PANDA BEAR - Tomboy (Paw Tracks)

I am not even going to pretend to be objective about my feelings toward Animal Collective and member Panda Bear’s solo output. I have not been interested in either for some time. Yes, I know that Animal Collective are oft considered the best band of a generation, and that Panda Bear’s “Person Pitch” helped redefine indie rock over the past five years and that many think it’s one of the top three albums of the aughts. I am just not one of those people. I liked Animal Collective enough when they first emerged as Avey Tare and Panda Bear with the incredibly forward-thinking “Spirit They’ve Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished.” I almost became a true believer around the time “Feels” dropped, and after seeing them perform live I was open to the possibility that they really were the best band on earth. I even enjoyed the majority of “Strawberry Jam.” But then came the much heralded “Merriweather Post Pavilion,” which left me wondering 'what the fuck?'. I personally detested that record. Aside for a few tracks, I thought it was a half-baked, meandering mess. The words I used to describe it were "a bad jam band playing music for a rave." I felt pretty much the same about “Person Pitch,” an album that has done nothing but bore me to tears every time I attempt to give it a second, third, fourth chance. I realize this puts me on the wrong side of indie-rock history and I realize that both albums are important as historical documents, having influenced more than a few musicians and records, nevertheless my opinion has not budged and I will take it with me to the grave.

So imagine my surprise when I sampled the “Tomboy” single last year and kind of lost my mind over it in a good way. That single was the first in a series of 7”s that would eventually come to comprise a good portion of the “Tomboy” LP. To my own astonishment I found myself seeking out and snatching up every single that Panda Bear released in the lead up to the release of "Tomboy," often paying top price to get my hands on what were essentially limited-edition previews. If someone had told me at the end of 2009 that I would be stalking Panda Bear with such voracity, I would have laughed in their face. And if someone had told me that I would call “Tomboy” a shoe-in for Album Of The Year in 2011, I would have told them they were fucking crazy. I would have also have been completely and utterly wrong, because from where I am standing “Tomboy” is a game-changing classic.

Although “You Can Count On Me” opens the record with the kind of hallucinatory expansiveness that characterized “Person Pitch,” the sound quickly becomes colder and more insular on the title track that follows. “Tomboy,” the song, has more in common with Radiohead’s “King of Limbs” than it does “Person Pitch,” it’s also better than anything on either of those records. It’s a dense number featuring claustrophobic guitar and synth effects built on the kind of steady pulsating tribal beat that Animal Collective used to be known for. There is an urgency to “Tomboy” that is entirely foreign to Panda Bear’s solo output heretofore. Things grow even bleaker and better on “Slow Motion.” Originally appearing as the b-side on the “Tomboy” 7”, last year this song rooted itself inside my brain, repeatedly playing as part of my internal soundtrack. To this day it continues to mesmerize me. There is a M.C. Escher quality to the track which is built on ascending and descending reverbed effects that slowly, but surely, hypnotizes. Panda Bear's vocals float dreamily over the music giving the track an otherworldly quality, even as it threatens to pull you down toward darkness. Yet, just as Panda Bear threatens to jump into the abyss, he changes things up with the sparkling anthematic “Surfer’s Hymn.” The track recalls the music of Steve Reich and Philip Glass if either composer took copious amounts of amphetamines and sequenced a synthesizer piece. It’s hyper, shiny and immediate, and one of the best songs I've hear this year.

While there is certainly an increased heart rate that beats throughout “Tomboy,” Panda Bear does take time out for the languid “Last Night At The Jetty” and minimalist numbers like “Drone” and “Sheherazade,” both of which are deeply indebted to 20th century experimentalism. Each track is a nice departure, but ultimately it’s songs like the chilly pulsating “Alsatian Darn” and downright frantic “Afterburner” that makes the record so spectacular.

Apparently not everyone agrees. Some long-time fans have been put off by the shift in focus here, and by that I mean there exists an actual focus here. I personally think that Panda Bear, and Animal Collective, operate best when there is more, and not less, structure to their songs. I am a huge fan of formless experimental music, but Panda Bear and Animal Collective's failure in this realm is proof that it takes a special kind of talent to successfully produce such music. With "Tomboy" there is a structure and tightness that has been missing from previous Panda Bear efforts that resembles pop music, even though this is hardly a pop record. Unlike “Person Pitch,” this probably won’t be soundtracking anybody’s summer parties, but that is only because it is far more substantive and cerebral. I would even go so far as to say it is the most successful experimental indie-rock recording since Radiohead’s “Kid A,” an album that also challenged expectations when it was released, but is now recognized for the masterpiece that it is.

So yes, I’m calling Panda Bear’s “Tomboy” a shoe-in for Album of the Year (although I’ll concede that Bon Iver is lurking out there still). Fans looking for "Person Pitch 2" be damned. For once Panda Bear sounds like he is living up to his potential, and not just painting impressionistic sound worlds for cool kids wanting to chill on a vibe. This record has even renewed my interest in Animal Collective, hopefully they will follow suit and create something as innovative, engaging and rewarding as "Tomboy."

"Slow Motion"


"Surfer's Hymn"


"Alsatian Darn"

GROUPER - AIA: Alien Observer/AIA: Dream Loss (Yellowelectric)

Grouper, a/k/a Liz Harris, has generated a devoted following since the release of 2008’s spectacular “Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill.” That album found traces of melody and variation emerging from Harris’ trademark spectral haze in a manner that we hadn’t yet heard from her. It rightly found its place on numerous year-end lists (coming in at number 2 on this writer’s tally) and put Grouper at the top of the experimental underground. Since then Harris has released a series of singles and split lps, each of which sold out in the blink of an eye. Among the devoted, the songs that trickled out over the past couple of years have been like bread crumbs leading desperate listeners through the forest toward Grouper’s next full-length. Now, after much anticipation, Harris has rewarded fans with two recordings, although in truth they are each a part of a whole.

In theory “AIA: Alien Observer” and “AIA: Dream Loss” could be taken separately, but clearly they are intended to be experienced together, and not just because they share a common title. “Alien Observers” sets the stage with a subtle minimalist approach, while “Dream Loss” builds on the hypnotic quiet of “Alien Observer” and gradually grows denser and darker in sound. Taken as a whole “AIA” is an immersive listening experience unlike any other in recent memory. Time expands to the point of breaking as these records play out, lulling listeners into a zen-like state that is part dream and part awakened-awareness.

Utilizing little more than piano, guitar, vocals and loops, Harris doesn’t so much as change her formula here as she delves deeper into the layers and textures of her distinctive sound to craft recordings that split the difference between the melodicism of “Dragging A Dead Deer” and experimental drone music. “Alien Observer” opens with “Moon Is Sharp,” a track that builds from a few disembodied voices into an expansive piece that features a buried, but beautiful, melodic structure and an increasingly overpowering drone that begins to disintegrate toward the end, calling to mind William Basinski. The song is built on noise and melody, containing within it all of the elements that will be reduced, picked apart and exploded throughout “AIA.” Title track “Alien Observer” follows and features Harris stripped bare. The song features little more than a minimalistic repeating note pattern over which Harris’ haunting voice conjures the track’s melody. It’s an incredibly stunning recording that proves that sometimes less is more. “Vapor Trails” is more languid, but no less engaging. Subtle washes of ghostly guitar float across the track, inviting the listener to sink deeper into “AIA.” Even at nine minutes long the track never bores, instead it hypnotizes and seduces, so that by the time you reach the equally epic “She Loves Me That Way,” you find yourself submerged entirely into Grouper’s sound-world. The album ends with the gorgeous “Come Softly,” a fragile number that could be a lullaby or the soundtrack to the most intimate of encounters.

“Dream Loss” opens with the darker and more ponderous “Dragging The Streets.” It’s a disquieting number that builds upon the languid haze of “Alien Observer” but reduces that record's dispersed color patterns into grayscale. “I Saw A Ray” is even bleaker, featuring a buzzing distorted drone that maintains a menacing intensity throughout. Harris’ voice sounds even more distant and submerged underneath the slow grind of “Ray,” making for a hallucinatory experience. “Soul Eraser” is subtler, but no less disturbed. There is almost a formlessness to the song as the vocals and instrumentation barely breach the surface of the track’s lulling hum. “Atone” provides some respite from the gloom. Built almost entirely on vocals, the track's gentle ascending note progression offers a slight ray of hope among the fog of “Dream Loss.” Yet “Wind Return” dashes what little hope there is to be found. It’s a muddy, tumultuous impressionistic track that is more about feeling than any melody or structure. As the record progresses it becomes increasingly disembodied, much more so than anything on “Alien Observer." Yet, played back to back these records compliment each other; “Alien Observer” mesmerizes and puts the listener into the exact state necessary to appreciate the more formless ambient haze of “Dream Loss," which is certainly the more difficult of the two recordings.

In the end, "AIA" is an epic sonic journey that rewards as much as it challenges. Over the course of the two recordings, the music slowly but surely disintegrates into almost pure ambience, running the course from Harris' most engaged to disengaged songs to date. I am not claiming that this is an easy listen, but it is a powerful one if you let yourself become submerged in the dense nocturnal fog that surrounds these records. In some ways this is a step away from the near accessibility of "Dragging A Dead Deer," and in other ways it is a culmination of Harris' work to date. Either way, fans will not be disappointed, and newcomers will discover plenty of reasons to give themselves over to the haunted beauty that is Grouper.

"Alien Observer"

Grouper - Alien Observer from Hamish Parkinson on Vimeo.

"I Saw A Ray"


"Come Softly"

TV ON THE RADIO - Nine Types Of Light (Interscope)

Back in 1996 Wilco produced a doozy of an album called “Being There.” As a follow up to the band’s competent, but less than groundbreaking, alt-country debut, “Being There” was a massive leap forward that mixed delta blues, hazy acoustic numbers, Sonic Youth-like epic guitar squalls, and straight forward rockers. It all came off like a modern day “Exile On Main Street” and announced the arrival of America’s great new band. Wilco broke from their alt-country roots entirely on follow up “Summerteeth,” a druggy, experimental collection of psych-pop. If “Being There” was “Exile,” “Summerteeth” was “Pet Sounds.” Throughout the band’s development, their fan base grew and when it was announced that Wilco would release their fourth album, “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot,” the anticipation reached a fever pitch, especially since the band was dropped by Warner Brothers because the record was deemed to be too experimental and inaccessible by the suits. Of course, “YHF” went on to become one of the most critically acclaimed American recordings of the past forty years. Critics soon began referring to Wilco as the “American Radiohead,” and not without cause. Then Wilco released “A Ghost Is Born,” which was a step back from the vanguard that they were leading. There were still a few decent, challenging tracks on the record, but there were also many straightforward, no-frills numbers that failed to impress. What came next became a sort of musical flashpoint, and not in a good way. The band released the utterly underwhelming “Sky Blue Sky,” to a general reception of “meh.” “Sky Blue Sky” was rightly labeled “dad-rock” and I’ve since heard it used as a term of derision when referring to a mediocre recording by a previously great band, as in ‘this pile of shit is their “Sky Blue Sky” moment’. But this review isn’t about Wilco, it’s about the other “American Radiohead"; TV On The Radio. So why the hell am I talking about the rise and fall of Wilco? Well because TVOTR’s newest record “Nine Types Of Light” is dangerously close to their “Sky Blue Sky” moment, and most certainly their “A Ghost Is Born” moment.

Like Wilco, TVOTR have made a career out of deftly melding disparate elements into a seamless and unique whole. Both bands have enjoyed wide audiences despite producing music brimming with experimentation, and have emerged as two of the most original and beloved musical voices of the last two decades. Yet presently the former has been reduced to banality and the latter sounds close behind.

So what happened? To begin with, “Nine Types Of Light” sounds incredibly underdeveloped. In interviews the band have said they wanted to move away from the layers of sound that characterizes much of the band’s past work and make a cleaner record than they previously had. Certainly they have accomplished that with “Light,” but in doing so they have reduced the stature of their sound. As Wheeler, who is known to occasionally weigh in here with her lacerating one-sentence reviews, bluntly put it, TVOTR used to "blow your fucking mind, and now it sounds like they’ve given up.” Maybe that’s a bit harsh, but I get what she is saying. Listen to their first single “Staring At The Sun,” and you will still get goosebumps, but listen to “Light,” and at best all you can do is appreciate it. It isn’t entirely horrible, and there are some well-written tracks, but it does nothing to inspire. There are no rousing anthems like “Province,” no grand protest marches like “Dry Drunk Emperor,” no blasted rockers like “Playhouse,” no primal ‘I’m going to fuck you harder than you have ever been fucked in your life’ jams like “Wolf Like Me,” or even just weird slow burners like “DLZ.” Instead it’s all a tastefully presented copy of a copy of a copy of TVOTR.

It would be easy to simply blame the lack of layers for what is an underwhelming listening experience, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. The biggest fault with “Light” isn’t just the omission of distorted walls of noise, it’s the omission of the band’s groove. Certainly the album has a groove, but it isn’t TVOTR’s groove. With the exception of “Will Do,” which is not surprisingly the first single from the record, nothing here moves bodies and minds like the material on “Dear Science” or “Return to Cookie Mountain.” In fact, it’s all rather forgettable.

This would be a let-down from any band that had previously produced something great, but coming from TVOTR it all seems somehow incredibly disheartening, even upsetting. Remember, this is the band that produced two of the most dynamic and thoughtful records of the Bush-era by blending righteous anger with dance-grooves more effectively than anyone since Fela Kuti. Now they have produced an album that could soundtrack a dentist’s office without raising an eyebrow. Recent interviews make it clear that they are more than aware that shit is still bleak, and that voting for a bumpersticker slogan hasn't improved much, but that insight and urgency is entirely missing from “Light.” Instead the band seems content turning in neo-soul love songs while Rome continues to burn.

In the end I am not going to begrudge a band for following their muse and doing what they want to do, and if TVOTR want to chill-out and make slow jams then that is their choice, but don’t expect me to be overly-thrilled about it and forget that just a few years ago this band made some of the most forward thinking music of their time. Hopefully they can rouse themselves once again before completely drifting off into the “Sky Blue Sky. “ If not, I’m sure there are plenty of clothing boutiques in LA that will gladly give the mellow sanitized groove of “Nine Types of Light” a spin.

"Will Do"


"Second Song"


"You"

VIVIAN GIRLS - Share The Joy (Polyvinyl)

Vivian Girl's third record "Share the Joy" opens with the expected onslaught of guitars and drums before suddenly, and surprisingly, dropping off into the band's most spacious and longest song to date, "The Other Girls." The nearly six and a half minute track finds the band turning down the punk fury of old and patiently producing a slow burner rife with possibilities as limitless as the desert sky. If the cover art to the band's last album "Everything Goes Wrong" had a soundtrack, "The Other Girls" would be it. It's a fairly bold move by a band known for their short bursts of melodic garage punk, and one that denotes a sort of stability that seemed lacking from past releases. If there is one thing that Ian Cohen got right, in his otherwise indefensible review of this record for Pitchfork, it was that when Vivian Girls first burst onto the scene they did sound like they "would nail it the first time, flame out, and then disappear forever." Yet throughout "Share The Joy," the Girls sound more poised, serious and solid than they ever have. "The Other Girls" reflects a certain fortitude that the band began to hint at on "Everything Goes Wrong," but which is fleshed out in full here. Even though most of what follows after the album's epic opener rarely breaks the three minute mark, each song sounds more mature and focused than anything the band has done before. Of course, all of this talk of growth might leave one wondering if the band has lost any of the raw power that made their earlier work so great, and the answer is absolutely not. "Share the Joy" rocks, even as it introduces more dynamics and restraint.

Admittedly, Vivian Girls have always been my favorite among the slew of lo-fi girl groups to have emerged over the last few years. What makes Vivian Girls so special is their no-fuss approach to music. Best Coast are great, but their bubblegum tendencies temper their ability to completely rock. The Dum Dum Girls, while probably the most talented of the bunch in terms of songwriting, sound cold and distant at times, like they don't want to sweat too much least they sully their pristine vintage wear. Vivian Girls, on the other hand, play like they are going for broke, with little regard for fashionable affectation. There is a purity to their sound that simply no one else has.

That purity is evident throughout "Share The Joy," even as the Girls tighten and diversify their sound. For example, the darkly-hued "I Heard You Say" is a more subdued version of the band's garage punk, but what stands out as the song progresses is lead singer Cassie Ramone's emotional vocal work toward the end that soars above the band's trademark harmonies. It's to the bone stuff that joyfully betrays any restraint musically. Album highlight "Lake House" finds the band blasting their way through the track like a proper punk band, but the song's melodicism and the Girl's deft control of harmonies and instrumentation elevate the number far beyond yet another two minute garage song. Then there is the darker, but rollicking, "Trying To Pretend." As Ramone sings "I'm not the one trying to pretend," although her words are directed to a lover, they could easily be taken as the band's raison d'être. Each song contains the raw strength of their earlier work, but it's all slightly more polished, toughened-up and taut as a result of natural progression, and not because of the over-reaching or re-invention that some bands succumb to at this stage in their career, often to disastrous effect.

The band spends the second half of the album turning in more melodic and diverse tracks that mix in elements of 60s girl-group, the spooky garage rock of Dead Moon, and even a bit of humour as evident on the wink wink, nudge nudge of "Take It As It Comes." The Girls sound more relaxed and confident than ever on tracks like "Sixteen Ways" and "Death" making good on the promise of "The Other Girls." The band return to the six minute mark with the epic closer "Light In Your Eyes," a track that combines all of the elements the band have been cultivating throughout "Share The Joy." It's dark, punky, melodic, spacious and pretty much perfect. When it's over it's hard not to flip the record over and begin the journey again. And it is a journey, but one that you don't realize you've been on until you come to the end of the album. That is because there is a sort of buzzy transcendence that gradually builds from song to song that finally culminates on "Light In Your Eyes." Although every track stands completely on its own, once you step back from the individual pieces and view the record as a whole, you notice an undeniable arc to "Share The Joy," that makes it even greater than the sum of its parts.

This certainly doesn't sound like a band ready to flame out, instead "Share The Joy" finds Vivian Girls progressing perfectly toward becoming something truly great.

"I Heard You Say"


"Lake House" live


"Sixteen Ways" live

COLD CAVE - Cherish The Light Years (Matador)

Is 2011 going to be the moment when all of the promising bands of the last few years start producing uninspired albums? Or at least the year when those with staying power are separated out from those without? It sort of seems that way. So far this year the previously awesome Ducktails turned in an immensely underwhelming album, The Pains of Being Pure At Heart apparently forgot how to write distinct and catchy melodies on their sophomore (slump) record, and now Cold Cave, one of the most promising bands to emerge in the past few years, have dropped a generic synth-rock brick on their latest offering “Cherish The Light Years.”

What went wrong? Cold Cave began as the solo project of Wesley Eisold. Initially Eisold crafted wildly distorted experimental music largely indebted to industrial, goth and synth-pop. The music was often abrasive, but nearly always compelling. For his debut record, “Love Comes Close,” Eisold was joined by Xiu Xiu’s Caralee McElroy and Dominick Fernow, who is responsible for some of the finest dark noise of the last decade under the name Prurient. McElroy and Fernow’s contributions made for an impressive mix, and “Love Comes Close” ended up being an excellent collection of chilly goth-pop.

Now Eisold returns with “Light Years,” turning down the goth, ratcheted up the pop, and making a record full of sound and fury signifying very little. Missing from the picture this time around is McElroy, whose presence is sorely missed. Furthermore, Fernow only appears on a couple of tracks, leading me to feel - maybe without reason - that their absence is largely to blame for what is a lackluster album.

Although, lackluster may not be the right adjective. I wouldn’t want to give the impression that the album sounds dull or languid, rather the opposite is true. Nearly every song here is blown up into epic anthematic proportions, lacking entirely in subtlety. The beats pound, and the rhythms are frantic more often than not. Melodically, Eisold throws in just about every single 80s new wave influence imaginable, all on top of the predictable New Order wheelhouse of sounds. For example “Alchemy And You” sounds like a mash-up of “Substance”-era New Order and the English Beat…yes Virginia, those are ska horns you are hearing over that synthrock track. The problem with this approach is that “Light Years” barely lets the listener catch their breath long enough to feel anything but sensory overload. What made Cold Cave so great before was their ability to play with peaks and valleys, and make for dramatics through dynamics, rather than the frenzied pummeling of this record. It’s telling that the album’s finest track is “Burning Sage,” a song that starts out with an ominous bubbling synthesizer and minimal instrumentation. Eventually the song explodes with cold violence, but it takes its time getting there, and when it does you can actually appreciate the dramatic turn of events, because the band has allowed for the requisite space around the track’s climax to differentiate it from every other minute on this record.

Certainly there are also moments of guilty pleasure and enjoyable hooks throughout the record that prevent this from being a total wash, but next to “Love Comes Close,” it can’t compare. “Villains Of The Moon,” “The Great Pan Is Dead” and “Pacing Around The Church” are decent pop songs that I know I will return to from time to time throughout the year when the mood strikes me, but I doubt very much that I will listen to this album in full again once this review is done. Yet, even given this misstep of a record, I still believe in Cold Cave oddly enough. I can still hear promise even here. Eisold is more than a talented songwriter, it just seems that he is trying too hard to adopt a ‘bigger is better’ approach on “Light Years” that does a disservice to his songs.

"The Great Pan Is Dead"


"Villains Of The Moon"

THREE EPS: DUM DUM GIRLS - He Gets Me High (Sub Pop)/BEACH FOSSILS - What A Pleasure (Captured Tracks)/BURIAL - Street Halo (Hyperdub)

2011 has already had a decent showings of eps from fairly important indie artists, so before I get to the down and dirty with the new Bill Callahan and Cold Cave full lengths, I'd thought I'd take some time spotlighting a few recent eps by some of my favorite current acts. Nothing really connects these artists other than proximity to release dates, so rather than write some sort of intro paragraph that attempts to link the Dum Dum Girls with Burial, I'll just get right down to the individual reviews...
Last year the Dum Dum Girls turned in my number five favorite album of 2010 with their girl-group garage-punk wonderwork "I Will Be." Although the record was marked by the remnants of lo-fi production, lead woman Dee Dee's songwriting and vocals made the album stand out in a field saturated by tin can garage rock. Best Coast may have gotten all the attention last year, but when it came down to it the Dum Dum Girls were grittier, more complicated and ultimately more rewarding. "He Gets Me High" finds the band eschewing lo-fi altogether for beefed-up cleaner production that places the focus directly on Dee Dee's writing and the band's playing, and guess what? It's deliriously good. "Wrong Feels Right" and the ep's titular track are pop gems that sound very much like the Dum Dum Girls of old, but with crystal clear production which allows all of the group's dynamics, depth and layers to be heard without obstruction. The real treat comes with the gut-wrenching and gorgeous "Take Care Of My Baby," a ballad about loving a person who has a hard time loving themselves, and the inevitable self-destruction that follows. When Dee Dee sings "I would watch as you were sleeping to make sure you were still breathing" in earnestness it carries the heartbreaking weight of a classic country song. To round out the ep the girls take on the much beloved and sacred "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" by the Smiths. This could easily be a recipe for disaster, but not in the hands of the Dum Dum Girls. Instead, they beef it up and make it into a "these go to 11" rocker, while still retaining Johnny Marr's spectral guitar effects throughout. It's one of the best cover songs I've heard in...well, forever. More than anything the Dum Dum Girls sound more confident than ever on "He Gets Me High," invoking even greater anticipation for their next full-length.

"He Gets Me High"

Dum Dum Girls - He Gets Me High (OFFICIAL VIDEO) from Sub Pop Records on Vimeo.

The Beach Fossils are another previously lo-fi act that have taken a more polished approach on their new ep "What A Pleasure." This rather generous eight song offering finds the band sounding less submerged and hazy than they did on their wonderful debut record, which also made my "best of" list last year. Admittedly this batch of songs is less compelling than their debut, which may be why the band is offering it up as an ep. You can get away with toss off tracks on an ep and not get dinged for it. Most of the tracks are casual fit-for-spring songs, at the same time they lack the enduring charm of the band's debut. "Pleasure's" two best tracks "Face It" and "Distance" have already seen the light of day on the band's excellent 7" release earlier this year. Both are perfect Beach Fossils' songs that explore slightly (and I mean ever so slightly) darker textures than the band did on their debut, while still retaining memorable hooks and melodies. If you missed that 7", "Pleasure" is worth it for those tracks alone. "Calyer" is another highlight that finds the band effortless turning in a rocking easy breezy number that sounds far more developed than some of the other tracks here, proving that the band more than has it in them to produce another full length of wonderfully understated indie rock.

"Face It"


Then there is Burial's "Street Halo." I don't think it's an overstatement to say this is the most anticipated EP of 2011. If you don't know who Burial is, then you are probably reading the wrong blog. If so, I will attempt to illuminate you. Burial is by far the most creative, beloved and well known name in dubstep, his dark ghostly take on the genre set a thousand ships sailing, including Thom Yorke's "Eraser" and Radiohead's "King Of Limbs." You digging that new James Blake? Well, you can thank Burial for setting the stage for him as well (of course you can thank Massive Attack for setting the stage for Burial, but we will save that discussion for a different day). Anyway, we last heard from Burial in 2007 with the much lauded "Untrue" LP and "Ghost Hardware" EP. Unlike a lot of current musicians, his absence was noticed and rumors of possible new work was always met with anticipation, and until now, disappointment (I'm still waiting for that DJ Kicks album he was supposed to do). Finally we have an actual new collection of Burial tracks. Granted there are only three, and they total just over twenty minutes, but trust me when I say they were worth the wait. The tracks on "Street Halo" are the best that Burial has ever produced. Each track maintains his trademark spectral haunt, but contains a coiled energy unlike anything he has ever created. His approach is more streamlined, yet just as hazy and dark as his self-titled debut. Some of the pitch-shifted vocals of "Untrue" remain, but they are far more subdued, blending into the overall sound of each track here, rather than rattling about at the forefront. Elements of IDM and even techno and house are present, but it is far too cerebral an affair to call dance. There is also something deeply beautiful and cinematic about each of these tracks, even as they remain entirely restrained. I really can't say enough good things about "Street Halo." I only hope that this is a prelude to another full length soon. I don't think I can wait another four years for a new Burial record.

"Street Halo"

THE PAINS OF BEING PURE AT HEART - Belong (Slumberland)

The Pains of Being At Heart are one of the most hyped and adored new bands of the last couple of years. Admittedly, while there has never been anything original about their sound, their debut invoked a certain unbridled glee. While perfectly mimicking early Belle & Sebastian, shoegaze and C86, the band effortlessly tossed off catchy melodies, hooks and grin-inducing lyrics full of dour wit.

Now the band has returned with their follow-up “Belong,” and while a general survey of reviews prove that the band is still enjoying the good-will of a majority of critics, I would like to add my voice to the few brave dissenters in the midst of what is otherwise an unmitigated love fest. To begin with, I will say this: all the things that made their self-titled debut enjoyable - the casual twee arrangements, the easy to discern hooks and melodies, the smarmy lyrics - all of those things are entirely absent from “Belong.” There are two possible reasons for this, the first is the band’s choice of production.

The band enlisted 90s studio legends Flood and Alan Moulder to produce and mix the record and to give it a hi-pro glow, to this end the succeed wildly. Between the two of them, Flood and Moulder have been responsible for the sound of The Smashing Pumpkins, Nine Inch Nails, U2, Depeche Mode and other “alternative” heavyweights throughout the 90s. The band’s choice of production speaks to greater ambition far removed from the quaintness that made their debut so enjoyable. Certainly the band got what they paid for, and the record does sound bigger, glossier, and all of that crap, but in the process Flood and Moulder’s technical wizardry has flattened the charm right out of The Pains of Being Pure At Heart.

Maybe it isn’t Flood and Moulder’s fault, maybe it is just that this time around the band decided to dumb down their sound, throw away all of the hooks and go for something generically 90s alt-rock because 20 years ago that was the sound that sold records. And sure, The Jesus and the Mary Chain had a hit with “Automatic” back in the day, but once that record began collecting dust in used bins, no one in their right mind believed it a worthy successor to “Psychocandy” and “Darklands.” No one. Apparently though, The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart are not of their right minds. Take a listen to “Girl of 1,000 Dreams” and you will hear what I am talking about.

This isn’t to say there isn’t anything to recommend on “Belong.” The album starts out fairly strong with a title track that mixes loud and soft dynamics to great effect. Granted it’s not anything we haven’t heard before, but when Kip Berman smashes his foot down on the distortion pedal for a quick blast of 90s-patented heaviness, it’s pure heaven. “Heaven’s Going To Happen Now” isn’t too far removed from the easy breezy bounce of their debut, but it is shinier and louder. Things start to grow dull around “Heart In Your Heartbreak,” a simple by the numbers alt-pop song that save for a rocking breakdown in the center is just plain boring. “The Body” is a vast improvement, featuring a chorus that recalls the sort of anthematic alternative brit-pop that soundtracked John Hughes’ films. It’s an album highlight that could have easily sealed the deal on the record, but unfortunately pretty much every track that follows ends up sinking into a monochromatic gloss of generic alt-pop. Yes, it is shiny, and yes it is polished, but at heart there is nothing unique about “Belong” to recommend beyond a few tracks.

So I’m calling bullshit on the love-fest surrounding this record. If you really want to hear some generic 90s alt-rock, hit the used bins and pick up “Automatic” or an album by Curve or Lush. At least they had a modicum of originality going for them, something that will never be said for The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart.

"Heart In Your Heartbreak"

The Pains of Being Pure At Heart - "Heart In Your Heartbreak" from Mike Luciano on Vimeo.

"Belong"