The title of Loss's new album "Despond" may be the most literal title in the history of music. This is one of the most crushingly depressing albums I have ever heard, it's also utterly amazing. Glacial doom with quiet interludes that make Harvey Milk sound well adjusted, Loss is music to be listened to alone in a dark room while contemplating the abyss. Did I mention that the vocals sound like a dying beast? Because they do, which only adds to the despair. But, goddamned if this isn't one of the most powerful records I've heard this year. It's also rather beautiful in it's own melancholic way. Instant doom classic.
Here is what we do know about WU LYF: they are from Manchester, England, there are four members, their manager is Warren Bramley who worked with the infamous late Tony Wilson at Factory Records, their record is self released for apparently philosophical reasons, and what lyrics can be descerned from their barked vocals appear to be political in nature, a suspicion supported by the overtly political nature of their videos, also LYF stands for Lucifer Youth Foundation, which is kind of cool. The rest is apparently a mystery, which is also kind of cool. None of this is nearly as cool as the band's ability to channel the sunnier side of post-punk into their urgent sounding call to arms. "Go Tell Fire To The Mountain" is solemn as fuck agitpop heavily indebted to afro-beat, making the band's rage as enjoyable as it is inspiring. While the band's earnestness is sometimes jarring, it's also incredibly refreshing in a musical landscape full of bands whose apathy and denial in the face of incredibly dark times finds them fiddling as Rome burns. WU LYF makes bands like Twin Shadow and Wild Nothings smaller than they already were. People are already predicting that WY LYF will take 2011 by storm. I kind of hope so, because it would be nice to have a band that actually stands for something other than faux 80s-nostalgia to rouse the sleeping giant of youth into action.
You could describe Chelsea Wolfe as post-punk lo-fi goth, but that just doesn't quite do her justice. She bares a passing resemblance to early Zola Jesus, but really she is more early Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. In the end no matter how you try to classify her, you are going to come up short. This is dark, seething stuff that somehow still manages to be comforting. It's little wonder that she recently covered Burzum's "Black Spell of Destruction" and turned it into a hypnotic hazy nocturnal soundscape that seduces the listener before revealing it's nightmarish nature. I'm not sure why, but with the exception of Brandon Stosuy's much deserved recognition over at Stereogum, this album has been criminally overlooked for the most part.
I realize that Jesu has been around for a minute now, and Justin Broadrick much longer, but he continues to put out superb records without much deserved fanfare or attention. "Ascension" is Broadrick's most accessible work yet, and while long-time listeners may initially fear a more pop Jesu, their concerns are unfounded. This is still heavy, anthematic stuff, and there are plenty of slow crushing shoegaze metal epics in-between the bouncier fare. What is most rewarding about this album is that it is denser and more complicated than "Conqueror," requiring close repeated listens to unpack all the greatness inside. In other words; it's a grower, which are the best kind of records.
We are currently in the middle of a heavy metal renaissance to be sure. While there are endless configurations and types to be enjoyed right now depending on your particular proclivities, no metalhead, no matter what their tastes, can deny the simple power of the riff. The riff is what makes bands like Queens of the Stone Age and High On Fire above reproach. You can't be metal and not love those bands, it simply isn't possible. Red Fang know this, and on their new album "Murder The Mountains" they master the power of the riff, riding it to heavy metal ecstasy over the course of ten, all killer no filler, songs. This isn't one of metal's many subgenres, this IS metal.
Dubstep artist Zomby has never really fit nicely into a pigeonhole. He combines elements of techno, dub, ambient, IDM and on "Dedication" a touch of that 80s synth-horror that all the cool kids are into these days. Although this is hardly subdued stuff, there is a spooky nocturnal vibe that runs throughout the record. At the same time, these tracks are nothing like Burial's hazy post-dubstep, instead the sound is extraordinarily crisp and clear. There is also a lot of energy here, but it is nervous and skittish. The end result is something rather deep, dark and thoughtful. "Dedication" may be more suited to contemplation than dancing, but it's easily one of the most exciting electronic albums of the year.
Best doom album I have heard in years. Hands down. This duo's harrowing songs are given an extra layer of massiveness by producer extraordinare Sanford Parker, who mixes traditional psych-doom with the kind of colossal heaviness and genre blending that made Twilight and Nachtmystium's albums so amazing last year. This is essential doom metal that will destroy every single molecule in its path. Every listen exposes something new and more devastating. I am continually captivated by this record.
I have wanted to like Thee Oh Sees forever, but have never been able to totally commit to them before "Castlemania." The perfect blend of British garage, psyche, lo-fi and plan ol' weirdo rock, "Castlemania" is the one album that I would love to have on while indulging in illicit substances with a thrill kill cult in southern California. It's demented, propulsive and downright fun. Imagine Roky Erickson as a late night-horror show personality fronting the Mothers Of Invention which happens to feature Ray and Dave Davies and you will have a good idea of what is going on here.
A couple of things I want to say immediately regarding Bon Iver’s (a/k/a) Justin Vernon) self-titled follow up to his spectacular debut album “For Emma, Forever Ago.” First of all, I need to state upfront that I am seldom a fan of the baroque branch of indie-rock that seems to sell so well these days. I’ve never been able to maintain any appreciation for artists like Neutral Milk Hotel, Decemberists, Sufyawn Stevens and Fleet Foxes. I’ve often found their pomp and circumstance a lot of sound signifying nothing compelling enough for me to pay attention beyond a handful of songs. At the same time, admittedly, I’m a big fan of Arcade Fire and The National, both of whom could easily be classified as baroque. The difference, I think, is that Arcade Fire and the National play with a certain punky muscularity and verve that does not rely on, but is nevertheless complemented by, their use of brass and strings, whereas so many other baroque acts hide behind their elaborate instrumentation in order to cloth what are essentially minor folk songs. “Bon Iver” inhabits a sort of middle ground between these two poles of baroque indie-rock. For some this may not be a problem, but for someone like myself I was worried that all that made Bon Iver so compelling in the first place; the stark minimalistic compositions anchored by raw emotion, would end up subsumed in layers of orchestration and effects. Unfortunately, for the most part, they are. Fortunately “Bon Iver” is still an incredibly compelling and beautiful album, even if, in the end it is not as satisfying as “For Emma, Forever Ago.”
The record starts off massive, with military drums and grandiose horns defining the not so subtle sound of “Perth.” The next track “Minnesota, WI” starts off with a spidery guitar motif that recalls post-rock before woodwinds and acoustic guitars change the hue of the song which eventually morphs into a an amalgam of deep bass, and a cacophony of spring-like horns and effects. It all sounds like a mess on paper, yet it is anything but. Once the track concludes, and it is clear that this is not “For Emma” redux, points of reference come flying fast and furious. Upon a couple of listens of this record I described it to a friend as Peter Gabriel collaborating with “Spirit Of Eden”-era Talk Talk. I stand by that description, but would add that occasionally Bruce Hornsby and Don Henley make guest appearances. If either of those latter names scare you off, they should, but worry not, they don’t spoil the album, or at least until the last song, but more on that later.
Vernon has always flirted with some of the less desirable sounds of the 80s and 90s, like the vocoder effect that makes a disconcerting appearance on “Wolves” from “For Emma.” He can’t seem to help himself here either, insisting on indulging in Hornsby and Henley-like adult contemporary keyboards and lite-folk-rock trappings that run throughout the record. On the first few listens these affectations stuck out like a sore thumb, but over time became bearable, even serviceable to the greater whole of the record that is until the inexcusable “Beth/Rest,” which sounds like a god awful yacht rock song. The song closes out the album with grating adult-comtempo keyboards and, the worst sin of all, jam-band like guitars. In listening to the song a few times I have come to realize that it isn’t a bad song at all, it’s just that Vernon’s choice of instrumentation is atrocious at times, and “Beth/Rest” is his worst crime against the senses yet.
All this may sound like I don’t like “Bon Iver,” yet nothing could be further from the truth. I think that aside from these occasional flaws this is an otherwise magnificent record, and only because it is so magnificent otherwise, these flaws are that much more disappointing and distracting. But enough about the bad, what about the good?
The good is the amazing heart of this album which starts around the gentle “Holocene” and ends with the unbearably beautiful “Michincant.” Both tracks hearken back to the minimalism of “For Emma,” yet each are far more ornate than anything on that album. Again, think Talk Talk, not Will Oldham, as a point of reference. In between is album highlight “Towers,” a lively quasi-country number rounded out with perfectly placed slide guitars and soaring backing vocals. “Wash.” is another incredibly executed number that recalls Volcano Choir, Vernon’s collaboration with Collections of Colonies of Bees. What sets each of these songs apart from a lesser track like “Hinnom, TX” is the restraint show both in Vernon’s vocals and his choice of instrumentation, a restraint that is let loose at only the proper moment.
Lead single “Calgary” is also a rather spectacular number, even if it does start out like something off of Don Henley’s “The End Of The Innocence.” The track soars when it hits its stride as Vernon and his accompanists fall into a propulsive beat accompanied by unadorned distorted guitars. “Calgary,” as well as opener “Perth,” proves that Vernon can do loud equally as well as he can do quiet.
It took some time between “For Emma,” which was originally self-released in 2007, and this much anticipated follow-up. In between Vernon has been involved in a wide variety of projects ranging from the experimental Volcano Choir, to the spectacle that was Kanye West’s “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.” It’s clear that he has picked up more than a few new colors to add to his canvas, and I can’t help but thinking that “Bon Iver” is in some part an experiment in trial and error as he tests out different approaches. Most of them succeed wildly, while some simply do not. If anything, “Bon Iver” has not whetted my appetite enough; instead it has created even more anticipation for what comes next for Vernon. It could go either way given the highs and lows evident here, thankfully there are vastly more of the former than the latter, making me hopeful that Vernon will take some lessons away from this recording and finally make a record that is worthy of the massive shadow that “For Emma” still casts, and that “Bon Iver” simply cannot escape in the end.
Every summer needs its soundtrack; a record to listen too while sitting on the porch and drinking beer, or relaxing in the pool, an album to play at parties, or in your car on a sunny day. It needs to be an album that is upbeat and accessible enough that it can satisfy a large amount of people and blend into the background at gatherings, but compelling enough to listen to alone while basking in the sun. Last year it was Best Coast's "Crazy For You," the year before that it was Phoenix's "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart," the year before that MGMT's "Oracular Spectacular;" all albums with hooks aplenty, but also numerous subtle nuances to please more discerning listeners. Cult's self-titled debut, a mixture of classic 60's girl-group sonics and melody with indie-pop is easily my vote for summer album of 2011.
Cults are Madeline Follin and Brian Oblivion. Originally from San Diago, the couple have since moved to New York City, but a sunny west coast vibe still permeates their music. Of course, that west coast vibe has been dominating indie-rock for the past few years, as has 60's girl-group sonics, but there is something just different enough about Cults to make them stand out. For one their instrumentation is far cleaner and sparser than similar artists Best Coast and Dum Dum Girls. Also their sound is far more indebted to Lesley Gore and the Shangri-Las than anyone else thus far.
Admittedly though, in trying to describe the band's sound, and do it justice, I am having difficulty. It would be easy just to say that these songs are coated in a Spector-like wall of sound, which they are, but even that doesn't quite sum it up. What is most compelling about the band's approach is that there is little to no distortion present on the record, instead beats, bass and drums drive the band's sound, while chimes and keys provide a shiny glittering atmosphere throughout. The album was co-produced by Cults and Shane Stoneback, who is known for producing Vampire Weekend and Sleigh Bells. There is a subtle co-relation in sound between Sleigh Bells and Cults that is likely a result of Stoneback's participation. Both bands rely on massive supporting beats, but Cults' are never distorted or overpowering, whereas Sleigh Bells' always are. Instead Cults let the beats breath and focus on the pitch-perfect voice of Follin to provide the album's many addictive melodies. Those melodies are embedded in some rather intoxicating compositions as well. There are twists, turns, breaks and bridges throughout these songs, as well as what seems an infinite amount of subtle flourishes to please even the most discriminating listener (i.e. music snob). In other words, this is pop music with a brain.
Lyrically the band focuses on themes of abduction and escape, whether it be from a shitty relationship or more generalized repression. Oblivion explained the theme of the band earlier this year in an interview with Pitchfork:
"A lot of the idea of the band and its name is the idea of liberation, of choosing your own way of doing things. Madeline and I both had weird times in our life before we met up and got together and, through the music, got into a really good place. It's about finding your own meaning and how something that's potentially looked down upon doesn't necessarily need to be bad."
That lyrical emphasis on individual liberation only adds to the freeing, breezy nature of the album. If there were ever a feel-good break-up/fuck you album, this is it.
If summer is that time of the year when we cast off the constricts of winter and embrace the carefree nature of its long sunny days, then there simply is no better album for the season than Cults. Lyrically and musically, this record is tailor-made to soundtrack the best summer of your life, so buy it already and start living it like you should. This easily gets my highest recommendation possible.
"The Gorgon Tongue" opens with distant strains of Aaron Copland and John Fahey filtered through a lush dronescape. The track, "Finale," shares a passing resemblance with Tim Hecker and Fennesz, but it is a distinctly American piece of music, one that draws upon the mystic chords of our collective memory. It is also the most beautiful piece drone in recent memory. Yet before this record is through, Copland and Fahey will give way to Burzum and sheets of screeching black metal, offering the listener the wide range of tastes and sounds that is Horseback.
Horseback is Jenks Miller, with the occasional help from friends. Over the last few years Miller has crafted works alternating between shimmering experimental sounds and blacked/dirge metal, while throwing in generous chunks of blues and psych-rock for good measure. For the most part, Miller keeps the two separated, although drone certainly plays a large role throughout. “The Gorgon Tongue” collects two radically different previous releases from Miller, yet oddly enough one flows into the other rather well, mainly due to the fact that both are based in drone. Although each recording is based in drone, there is nothing static about either. Rather each record is actually fairly dynamic.
“Impale Golden Horn” comprises the first half of “Gorgon Tongue,” and is Miller at his most beautiful and transcendent. Originally released in 2007, the album was Miller’s first release under the name Horseback. The four track epic is all shimmering effects, subtle organs, guitars and piano. There is an airy lightness to each track, even though they are incredibly dense compositions full of layers and layers of repeated melodic motifs and voluminous sustained drones. “Laughing Celestial Architect” and “Blood Fountain” introduces tinges of post-rock into the mix, which only ratchets up the emotionality already inherent in these pieces. It’s actually all kind of heavy, but heavy in the way that Jesu’s “Conqueror” is heavy. It sounds victorious and cosmic, rather than defeated and isolated. “Forbidden Planet,” on the other hand, is a much darker and claustrophobic affair.
Originally a cassette-only release from last year, “Forbidden Planet” finds Miller indulging his black metal muse. Certainly this six-song recording owes as much to drone and experimental music as does “Impale Golden Horn,” but played at the grey to black end of the color scale. The pieces are mainly comprised of drone-like tremolo-picked guitars and Miller’s snarling vocals, yet just as “Impale” contained snippets of melody throughout, so does “Forbidden Planet.” Also present are subtle, but powerful, rhythms. This mixture of black metal with dynamic drone is nothing new. One need only look to Sunn o)))’s “Black One” for precedent. That doesn’t make this recording any less spectacular. It takes a special talent to do this and do it right, and Miller is one of the very few in the wake of Sunn o))) that can. This is some seriously heavy and powerful stuff, and is not for the weak of heart.
Because of the radically different nature of “Forbidden Planet” and “Impale Golden Horn,” this record finds itself in the unique position of finding favor among a variety of people, some of who may otherwise not listen to one or the other. Yet for someone whose enjoys both ends of the light spectrum, “Gorgon Tongue” is a boon, as well as a major revelation of the substantial talent that is Jenks Miller. Add to this discography 2009’s incredible blues-psych-metal dirge “The Invisible Mountain,” and you have a rather diverse and formidable collection of recordings under the name Horseback by Miller. Needless to say this collection only adds to the anticipation surrounding future Horseback records. Thankfully we won’t have to wait long, since a split LP with the like-minded Locrian is imminent.
I have said repeatedly that Boris are one of the greatest bands in the world today. I say that not only because their music is amazing, which it is, but because of their ability to straddle and mix multiple genres into the unique whole that is Boris. Pop, drone, ambient, noise, doom, metal, indie-rock, even a little electronica are the colors that Boris use to create their always provocative compositions. You would have to look to Radiohead to find another band that is able to push boundaries and redefine themselves as successfully from album to album. Boris are also incredibly prolific. Although their output has slowed in the last couple of years, at one time it was nearly impossible to keep up with their release schedule that would often include differing versions of full lengths, numerous splits, live albums, eps and collaborations. It was somewhat surprising that following the release of the band's last proper album, 2008's "Smile," (which, of course, was released in two radically different mixes) they seemed to fall relatively silent (and by silent I mean they released a live album and dvd, rerecorded some of their old tracks for a Japanese only full-length, crafted an excellent series of 7" singles for Southern Lord, and put out a couple of split eps). Apparently the band have been saving up for 2011, because this year will see not one, but three new Boris records, and who knows what else. The first two come courtesy of Sargent House, rather than Southern Lord, who have typically handled the band's US releases. This move away from the stalwart doom/black/crust metal label is indicative of the shift in direction the band explores on both "Attention Please" and "Heavy Rocks." These are easily the band's most accessible releases to date, but accessibility does not mean that they are any less interesting or satisfying than the band's previous work.
"Attention Please" is the most radical of the two recordings. Featuring vocals entirely by guitarist extraordinaire Wata, the record finds the band at their least heavy, most indie-rockish ever. To be fair, the band has hinted at this sort of release throughout the Southern Lord 7" series and on their "Golden Dance Classics" split. Tellingly, some of the music from that split appears here in an altered form. The titular opener is a silky sexy slow burner with a subtle dance vibe that will likely have the band's metal fans scratching their heads. For those whose tastes are as catholic as Boris', the track is an intriguing taste of what is to come. What is to come is a heady mix of alt-heavy rock, electronics and everything else Boris has ever dabbled in, but toned down. Rockers like "Hope" and "Spoon" absolutely soar, but have more in common with 90s indie-rock or, dare I say, Arcade Fire than anything Boris has done to date. Other songs, like "Hand and Hand" "You" and "See You Next Week," recall the ambient soundscapes of the band's "Mabuta No Ura" buoyed by the fragile beauty of Wata's voice. Some of the likely more divisive tracks are also some of the records most enjoyable. "Party Boy" is straight up electro-clash, and it's also downright addictive. "Les Paul Custom '86" is the album's weirdest pop experiment, featuring sparse instrumentation, blown out beats, effects, and a full-on groove, and it is also a hell of a lot of fun. I challenge you not to smile every time Wata goes "E-E." If you don't or can't, I don't think I really want to know you. There are unnecessary rough spots on the album, like the limp "Tokyo Wonder Land," but overall this record works and works well. More than anything I can see "Attention Please," bringing the band a few new fans who would be initially turned off by the crushing sludge of "Amplifier Worship" or the dour doom of "Smile." As for long time fans of the band's heavier material who might be put off by "Attention Please," they need not despair; "Heavy Rocks" ensures that Boris have not gone soft.
Boris revisits the title "Heavy Rocks" from time to time as they redefine their sound. This record is the third incarnation of "Heavy Rocks" moniker; the first being 2002's foray into tight Stooges-like barnburners, and the second being the more experimental Southern Lord 7" series. With this third installment, the band seems to be taking stock of their various metal and hard rock permutations up to now, and creating something a little leaner, a little more accessible, but no less heavy. Opener, "Riot Sugar" is a cavernous stoner-rock number featuring Ian Astbury on backing vocals that sounds similar to some of the band's work on their collaboration with Astbury on "BXI," but better. "Leak - Truth, yesnoyesnoyes" follows and finds the band returning to the psych-rock of their excellent "Rainbow" recording. "GALAXIANS" is the kind of barnburner which populated the first "Heavy Rocks," "Pink" and "Smile," so of course it rocks. "Missing Pieces," my personal favorite track from both albums, has the band returning to the epic ambient-doom post-rock that made "Flood" and "Boris At Last:-Feederbacker-" the classic recordings they are. It even includes a blast of sustained heavy-as-fuck doom drone. Like I said, this is the sound of the band taking stock and pretty much covering every base. No, it isn't as face melting as "Absolutego" or as brutal as "Amplifier Worship," but it will satisfy long-time fans nonetheless, while also offering an easy to digest sampling of the band's heavier side for new comers.
This wouldn't really be a Boris album, though, if it didn't add something fresh to the mix, and fortunately the band offers up new directions in sound on a few tracks here. "Window Shopping" mixes Brit-pop on top of one of their typical go-for-broke ragers, which breaks down into a doom stomp before starting back up again. The real treat is "Tu, La, La," a continuation of the band's exploration of 90's indie-guitar rock. Taken along-side "Attention Please's" similar forays into alt-rock, it sounds like the band has been listening to some serious Sebadoh, and that is a very cool thing, because they rock this sound completely. I could easily take an entire album of this kind of thing. Then there is the tease that is "Czechoslovakia." At only a minute thirty-five, the number inflames with a trash-metal workout that will leave you craving so much more, and is hopefully a glimpse of things to come.
Boris are going on fifteen years now as a band, but with their third album of the year on the way, they show no signs of slowing down, growing old or becoming any less restless as musicians. "Attention Please" finds them at their most adventurous, while "Heavy Rocks" finds them circling the wagons and maintaining their crowns as one of the, if not the, greatest heavy bands of the last decade, while still finding ways to reinvent themselves. Taken together, both albums may be the perfect introduction to Boris given the breadth and depth of the band's various incarnations presented between the two records. For those who are familiar with the group, these albums offer an equal blend of the known and the novel, and while I wouldn't go so far as to call either record the band's best, they are certainly vibrant documents of the group's seemingly undying originality and vitality.
The title of Loss's new album "Despond" may be the most literal title in the history of music. This is one of the most crushingly depressing albums I have ever heard, it's also utterly amazing. Glacial doom with quiet interludes that make Harvey Milk sound well adjusted, Loss is music to be listened to alone in a dark room while contemplating the abyss. Did I mention that the vocals sound like a dying beast? Because they do, which only adds to the despair. But, goddamned if this isn't one of the most powerful records I've heard this year. It's also rather beautiful in it's own melancholic way. Instant doom classic. 
