PHILIP JECK - An Ark For the Listener (Touch)

What makes for a good drone/experimental record? I would argue that the success or failure of a record of this sort rests entirely on the subjective reaction of the listener. My favorite drone records are those that have either resonated with me emotionally as a result in shifts in the record's sonic dynamics, or those that I have been able to completely lose myself in through a process of audial immersion. Some of the best experimental records are rather dynamic with large arcs, squalls and swells, while others are completely static and meditative. There is no one formula for what works and what doesn't, or, I should say, what connects with the listener and what doesn't. It's more of a feeling, and not something that can be reduced to a scholastic exercise, although certainly some would argue otherwise.

Philip Jeck has always been one of the more dynamic experimental artist in the field. Crafting soundscapes out of old records played on old record players and processed through effects pedals, Jeck is less a turntablist and more of a sound sculptor. I have had the fortune to see him perform, and I was amazed at the sound he was able to construct as he sat behind his turntables spinning nicked up and warped records. As with all things vinyl there is an immediate warmth to Jeck's sound, like sepia-toned memories. That warmth coupled with his ear for superbly effective dynamic structures throughout his compositions have made him one of the leading lights in experimental music alongside Fennesz and Tim Hecker. A simple look back at his catalog reveals some of the best records of the sort of the last ten years. "Surf" "Stoke" "7" and the massive "Vinyl Coda" series are all essential and necessary releases for any self-respecting fan of experimental music. So when a new Philip Jeck record drops, it is cause for more than a little excitement.

Jeck's last record "Sand" was somewhat of a let down in that it was comprised of smaller scale pieces not necessarily tied to one another either thematically or sonically, which brings up yet another commonality among truly great experimental recordings - they almost always take you on a journey from the time of the first tone to the fade of the last shimmer. They are records to be taken as a whole in one sitting without pause. "Sand" attempted to stuff Jeckian epics into shorter non-related pieces, which wasn't entirely a bad idea on paper, but it didn't quite succeed like his other more immersive recordings. "An Ark For The Listener" finds Jeck returning to the album as a journey template. Inspired by "a meditation on verse 33 of "The Wreck of the Deutchsland", Gerard Manley Hopkins' poem about the drowning on December 7th 1875 of five Franciscan nuns exiled from Germany," according to Jeck, the album remains consistent in tone and intent throughout. Even the two songs not related to the theme of the album; "All That's Allowed" and "Chime, Chime (re-rung)," which are remixes of two pieces from another essential Jeck release "Suite: Live in Liverpool," sound like they were created as part of the whole here.

Although Jeck has returned to a more consistent whole with "Ark," the album differs markedly from his previous records in that it is a much more subtle affair, with many of the dynamics easily glossed over during a casual listen. It took me days to unpack these recordings, and only when I strapped on the headphones did the album fully reveal itself. What initially sounds like simple and unimpressive (by Jeckian standards) drones on the first few listens eventually open up to expose their complex and dense layers of sounds. This isn't a record like "7" where pieces immediately reach out and grab you. You have to come to the song, spending time with it before you can fully submerge yourself in "Ark's" soundfield. The reward for that investment is a richly textured record that is both as challenging as it is meditative.

"Ark" is a bit darker than previous Jeck releases. Not that Jeck's dense sound worlds were ever a ray of sunshine, but there were often moments throughout his recordings of levity and brightness. Here the tones are mostly muted and smudged grayscale, with far less sepia. There is also a liquidity to the sound courtesy of some bass guitar, an instrument that Jeck seems to have gained an affinity for of late (check out his recent excellent solo bass ep "Spool" to see what I mean). All of these characteristics are only fitting for an album inspired by the drowning of a group of nuns. And trust me, by the time you are able to fully digest and submerge yourself in this recording, you will feel an affinity for those nuns, because like them you will find yourself feeling buried under walls of water slowly choking out your last breath. It's just that dense and claustrophobic of an affair at times.

"Ark" certainly wouldn't be the first record I would recommend for a Jeck novice, it is far too inaccessible. For the uninitiated I would suggest "7" or "Soak." But, for those of us who have found solace in Jeck throughout the past decade this is one of his most challenging and complicated works, but also incredibly rewarding. It will cause unease, and it will bury you both with its intent and execution, but it will astonish you with its clarity of vision as well as Jeck's ability to carry it out. This may not be the first record I will reach for in Jeck's collection, but it is the one I will grab when I don't want to take the easy way out.

"Thirtieth/Pilot Reprise"


"The All of Water"

THROWBACK MONDAY - Kurt Vile/Guided By Voices

Ok, so it's not Monday, it's actually Tuesday and it's not a throwback post, but actually a preview of the delights that await Indianapolis and the surrounding area come this final Friday of Rocktober. First up Kurt Vile in an increasingly rare acoustic solo set right here at Luna on 52nd. Starting at 5 p.m. on the nose you can marvel at Vile's wholly original take on roots music. Vile is nothing short of a poet both lyrically and musically, who adds a slightly warped and surrealistic edge to his brand of Americana. He's kind of like Jack Kerouac singing Hank Williams. Yeah he's that good.

Check out a couple of live acoustic clips here:

"Dead Alive"


"Overnite Religion"


Once you've checked out the Luna in-store you can mosey on over to The White Rabbit Cabaret in Fountain Square for Vile's full band concert later that evening. Show starts at 8, and features the Soft Pack opening.

OR you can hop in one of the many vehicles headed 50 miles south to see indie rock legends Guided By Voices at the Bluebird in Bloomington. Unless you have been living under a rock for most of 2010 you already know that the classic line-up of GBV has reunited to take a well-earned booze-soaked victory lap around the states so that we can once again revel in that other great American band to emerge from the 90s not named Pavement. Since it's Halloween as well this weekend, let's tie this all together with a little GBV singing about ghosts and demons...

"Demons Are Real"


"A Salty Salute" from Matador 21


And the classic line-up back in the day...

BELLE & SEBASTIAN - Write About Love (Matador)

Way back in 1996 life itself became just a little brighter with the mere existence of one of indie rocks greatest acts - Belle & Sebastian. They were like a security blanket against the twists and turns of failed relationships, shitty jobs and the general cruelty inherent in the human condition. They sung about damaged people in damaged times, but theirs was a voice of understanding and comfort that made the slog not only tolerable, but somehow beautiful. Their wit and wisdom would save many a rainy day, and when they played happy, you couldn't help but get caught up in their infectious joy. It's been four long years since we have heard from Belle and Sebastian, but now the band have returned with their eighth album "Write About Love" just in time for autumn, when they sound even better, although they always sound great.

In discussing "Write About Love" with any long time fan of the band, the first question out of their mouth is whether it sounds like "Life's Pursuit," and "Dear Catastrophe Waitress," the band's decidedly upbeat extroverted forays into 60s English pop, or whether it sounds like the 'old stuff,' which was the definition of twee - slight introverted songs heavy on emotion. So, let's just get that question out of the way at the get go: It sounds like neither. In a lot of ways the album combines all the places Belle & Sebastian have been and takes them someplace new - a place more refined and polished, but as equally effective as anything they have done before.

The record kicks off with what has become personally my favorite song of the year; "I Didn't See It Coming." Sarah Martin leads the song about down on their luck lovers who are determined to live life fully despite their woes. Behind her the band finds a groove with a slight shuffle that slowly builds toward a climax that brings frontman Stuart Murdoch out from the shadows to drive the song home with his pleadings of "make me dance, I want to surrender." The song is Belle & Sebastian in a nutshell; joyful in spite of crappy circumstances, happy, but not ignorantly so. And as someone who can relate all too well to the song's protagonists, every single feeling and word rings true. There is no wrong move, no false step in "I Didn't See It Coming," instead it imparts authentic hope - not hope that things will get better, but hope that you can find joy even when life is dealing you a shit hand.

The band stays upbeat, and slightly groovy with "Come On Sister," which sounds like old school Belle & Sebastian dressed up in all the bells and whistles of the band's increased instrumental repertoire of "Life's Pursuit" and "Catastrophe Waitress," mixing the best of both worlds and coming out on the other side grinning. By the time we get to the third track, the sleepy "Calculating Bimbo," which hearkens back to the band's classic acoustic driven sound, we know we are in for yet another satisfying outing from the band, a point driven home by the superb hard-charging (well, hard-charging by Belle & Sebastian standards) "I Want the World To Stop," which follows.

There are a couple of tracks that drag the proceedings down. Murdock's duet with Norah Jones on "Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John" sounds more like a Norah Jones song than it does a Belle & Sebastian song, and I don't mean that in a good way. Also the Stevie Jackson fronted "I'm Not Living in the Real World" sticks out like a sore-thumb with it's Austin Powers party on Piccadilly street sound. It's actually not a horrible song, it just a little too much. The band sound much better on the white-boy boogie of the album's titular track and the minor, but gorgeous "The Ghost of Rockschool," a religious song in nature, but one with an undeniable beauty that pulls at even the hardened heartstrings of an old atheist like me.

The band saves two of their best tracks for last. The drop dead perfection of the Martin-fronted "I Can See Your Future" recalls the wonder and beauty of the band's classic b-sides that were often better than anything on the a-sides. Complete with a string section, arching french horn break and Martin's smooth as milk vocals the song is a reminder of what made Belle & Sebastian so special in the first place. Finally there is the slightly darker jangle rock of "Sunday's Pretty Icons," a track that finds Murdock in classic form with lyrics like:

Somebody asked me what hell was like
Lunging and happening, parting of souls
Every girl you ever admired
Every boy you ever desired
Every love you ever forgot
Every person that you despised is forgiven

Because only Murdock would define hell as forgiveness for those who tortured you in life. It's part of his appeal - the sly wit, a biting misanthropy shrouded in tweeness, and the occasional authentic outbursts of empathy, sorrow, anger and joy. It's all here, and it sounds as fresh as it did fourteen years ago, if only tighter and more polished. Fourteen more years please.

"I Didn't See It Coming"


"I Want The World To Stop"


"I Can See Your Future"

SALEM - King Knight (IAMSOUND)

The advent of Salem as a "buzzband" is less a story about a band, and more of a commentary on the relentlessness and restlessness of music bloggers. Anyone who has ever read an interview, or viewed a live performance realize that Salem really don't give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks about their music - they are making it for themselves and themselves alone, and if you want to come along for the ride, or the "drag," then so be it, but don't expect them to tailor anything toward your trend-hopping ass. They didn't set out to create a genre, they didn't set out to make for a movement, but that is just what they did, through no fault of their own. How this happened has nothing to do with the band's intentions and everything to do with the frenzy by which bloggers attack anything new and slightly original. The band combines various forms of electronic music, dance and hip-hop to come up with something that resembles a rave on ambien. It is original? Kind of - in that no one else really sounds like this, but a close listen will reveal every single element derivative of something else. Be it goth or crunk, it's in there and apparent. The fact that the band combined all of these elements under one roof and made it sound, for the most part, pretty damn good had bloggers scrambling to digest, categorize and name this new, somewhat different sound, thereby creating a pigeonhole where one did not exist before.

A cursory review of attempts to capture and contain Salem's music reveal such reviled terms as "witch-house" "haunted-house" "drag" (my favorite because it is derived from a maligned and misunderstood quote from an interview with member Jack Donoghue, showing how desperate some were to categorize this music) and finally the infamous "rape gaze" (another favorite because following the fall-out that accompanied the overeager use of this term by Pitchfork in their review of "King Night" they quickly retracted it, thankfully Hipster Runoff has decided to not let them forget it). All of these descriptors bespeak of a ravenous music press vying for a shot at becoming the next Simon Reynolds (who infamously coined the term "post-rock" in his review of Bark Psychosis' "Hex" album, thus helping to shape and define a new kind of sound) by coming up with a name that in essence forces the creation of a whole new musical genre, regardless of whether or not that genre actually exists outside of the context of that name. So Salem is "witch house" "haunted house" "drag" and/or "rape gaze" all because some music writer somewhere wanted to be the first to bag and tag a sound that sort of kind of sounds different from anything else, but ultimately not really.

Once the genre was named, the descriptors started flying; "scary" "terrifying" "dark" "bleak." If you didn't know better, you would think Salem were a doom or black metal band, not a dance-oriented electro act that really isn't any of those things. And what do Salem think about all this rush for judgment, this baseless hyperbole, this embarrassingly overwrought analysis? They could clearly give a fuck care less. Like I said, they just want to make music they like, and if you like it; fine, but you don't really have to. It's really no big deal to them either way. They didn't create this beast, we did with our incessant need to hype, consume and categorize. Once you get past the idea of Salem as a "buzzband" and the baseless stupid attempts to create a genre out of their sound, Salem are actually not half bad. I kind of like what these guys and girl are doing for themselves.

Semi-born out of a sordid history of drug abuse and prostitution, the Chicago/Michigan trio create a dense electronic sound that is sometimes gritty and sometimes beautiful, and often a mixture of both. Take the album's title track; it sounds like a dirty slowed down UK garage single but is quickly elevated by bubbling synths and a tweaked choral rendering of "O Holy Night." It's massive and absurd and cool all at the same time. "Asia" follows and sounds even larger, with gently soaring distorted synths and ethereal vocals over quasi-military drums mixed with a simple industrial beat. It's even more absurd, maybe even outright stupid, and yet if you let it, it will move you. This dichotomy of high and low art is what makes Salem work. Throughout the band's debut they seamlessly mix the sublime with the grime, crafting layers upon layers of sound to make for their own unique take on electronic dance, and even though each element has been done somewhere by someone else before, it hasn't been mashed together into a cloth sack like this before.

Occasionally Salem slips into affectation as on "Sick" "Trapdoor" and "Tair," a smattering of 'chopped and screwed' hip-hop tracks that quickly wear out their welcome. Each song interrupts the album's momentum to some degree and detract from what, at times, is a pretty powerful release overall. The band is better suited toward the cathedral-sized ambient dance of "Redlights" and the goth-driven coldwave of "Hound" and "Killer" than they are DJ Screw. But whatever, they seem to have an affection for it, and this isn't music for me, it's music for them. I just can't remain on their codeine-inflected hip-hop hayride for too long. It's the point where I have to fast forward to the next bliss-inducing track full of sheets of synthesizers and angelic vocals.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that regardless of what has been written about Salem, their music isn't the least bit scary, so don't believe that hype. If you want scary contact me and I'll set you up with scary. If this is "witch-house" then we must be talking about Glenda the Good Witch and not witches at black masses.

Will "King Knight" sound good in two years? I don't know. I think it will. Ultimately, I don't really care, nor do Salem probably. Right now, though, this is sounding pretty damn cool and comforting, and it is ripe with harbingers of the band's potential. They could go in many directions from here both mundane and amazing. This isn't to say that they haven't already created some great music, because they have, it is just to say that unlike most bands, Salem sounds like they could be something extraordinarily special and important, or drop off the map after a year.

"Asia"

SALEM - ASIA from SALEM on Vimeo.

"Hound"

THROWBACK MONDAY - Pentagram

Halloween is just around the corner, turning our attention to darker, scarier things - the kind of things that heavy metal, as a genre, so often explores and glorifies. It's generally agreed metal originated out of Birmingham, England when Tony Iommi constructed the song "Black Sabbath" out of the musical tritone known as the "diabolus in musica", or "The Devil's Interval." While most bands that came to be known as heavy metal in Sabbath's wake were really just hard rock bands, one band shepherded Sabbath's gloom and doom, cultivating it throughout the 70s and 80s until the eventual doom explosion of the 90s and aughts vindicated their tireless and troublesome efforts. That band was Arlington, Virginia's Pentagram. Fronted by the oft-colorful and consistently self-destructive Bobby Liebling, the band's revolving door of members left behind their early blue-rock trappings to become one of the most highly regarded underground heavy metal acts of the last 40 years, whose legend has only grown in time. Above is a picture of me and Bobby after Pentagram's train wreck of a show in Indianapolis last winter. Living up to legend, the night before the band's guitarist had quit forcing Bobby to recruit a new guitarist on the fly to play the show. Needless to say it wasn't exactly a stellar performance, but it was admirable that Liebling would not give up, making sure that the show would go on - much like he has throughout the years toiling away in obscurity and in a haze of hardcore drug abuse that probably should have killed him years ago. So for this Halloween turn down the lights, turn up the stereo and give props to the band that virtually defines Rocktober...

"The Ghoul" live


"Live Free and Burn" live

ANTONY & THE JOHNSONS - Swanlights (Secretly Canadian)

Some records are immediately accessible and easy to digest in a short period of time, other records take weeks, months, maybe even years to plumb the depths of and grasp in full. Antony & The Johnsons "Swanlights" is the latter. So anything I write here is going to be cursory at best, since even after two weeks of listening to "Swanlights" I am really only just beginning to unpack its contents. All of Antony's familiar themes are here: nature, mortality, transformation and rebirth. He begins and ends the album declaring that "everything is new," after, of course, a cycle of physical and/or metaphorical death and rebirth. That part of the album is fairly easy to grasp. And, par for the course, Antony's preternatural voice elevates his sometimes knotty naturalistic poetry to heights unimaginable by other artists, but this is what we have come to expect from an Antony & the Johnsons album. Even though each of these characteristics are extraordinary in comparison to other artists, for Anthony & the Johnsons these kind of achievements are just another day at the office.

Where "Swanlights" gets heady is in the album's expansive and often complex musical compositions which back and complement Antony's vocals. The group draws on a vast musical pallete to create a far less accessible record than before, but one that is deeply rewarding. Following "I Am A Bird's" concise, baroque pop approach, Antony & the Johnsons have been moving further and further away from "Bird's" soul and pop underbelly toward 20th century classical music and experimentalism, "Swanlight" is the culmination of that shift away from conventional song structures toward something more resembling Talk Talk's "Laughing Stock."

Most of the album adopts an incredibly minimalistic approach, rather than overblown orchestrations. "Everything Is New" begins the album with subtle plucked strings and piano before expanding every so slightly with understated violin and percussion. Yet there is an odd dynamism throughout the song that finds the group playing feverishly at times, even while maintaining a generally restrained approach. "The Great White Ocean" is, at heart, an acoustic ballad, but stripped down to the point that it verges on formlessness. "Ghosts," on the other hand, leaps immediately from the speakers with a Steve Reich-like motif, but grows sparser as more spacious piano and strings come to characterize the piece before returning to the frantic repetitive minimalism of the intro. The album's first half ends with the springlike "I'm In Love" that features a cacophony of instrumentation centering around organ, woodwinds and percussion that juxtaposes the repetition of 20th century minimalism with the sway and swoon of more romantic idioms. It's the musical equivalent of a blossoming flower, or a butterfly emerging from the cocoon, but again it is ever so subtle as the band continues to resist a maximalist approach.

The album's centerpiece, and highlight, is the title track. "Swanlights" begins with Antony singing "living is such a golden thing" over a somewhat menacing guitar drone. Halfway through the song a stately piano progression cuts the atmosphere, and Antony's layered vocals grow more soulful and powerful. It's really a simple piece once you dissect it, but it's also the album's most powerful moment. "The Spirit Was Gone" follows and maintains the darker approach of "Swanlights" with skeletal piano and strings backing Antony's lyrical meditation on mortality.

The album's single 'conventional' moment comes with the excellent "Thank You For Your Love." Reminiscent of "I Am A Bird's" brighter moments, "Thank You" swings like an old Lou Reed track before the band works themselves into a mild frenzy of vocals, horns and galloping drums. The album returns to a meditative stance with "Fietta," featuring Bjork on vocals backed by Antony. The song vacillates between haunting sparseness and lively purpose, and is generally what you would expect from such a pairing.

The album closes with the gorgeously melancholic "Christine's Farm." As with much of the album, most of the piece features Antony singing over subdued piano, but the the rhythm that his voice creates as it interacts with the instrumentation is mesmerizing. There is something absolutely hypnotic about the way Antony's almost becomes yet another instrument in the band's arsenal. Throughout "Swanlights," and in particular on "Christine's Farm," the vocals, piano and strings work together to construct a seamless musical movement, where each instrument, vocals included, works to serve and complement every other. It's an effective approach and one that can make for a powerfully moving experience.

Of course, that is what "Swanlights" is ultimately; a powerfully moving experience. I say "of course" because that is what we have come to expect from Antony & the Johnsons by now, and maybe that expectation blunts some of the excitement of "Swanlights." It is undoubtedly an incredibly constructed and profound record, but upon listening to "Thank You For Your Love," one can't help but to wish that Antony would switch things up a bit more. Yes, he has a perfect voice for the kind of classical experimentalism that populates "Swanlights," but he also has an amazingly soulful voice that is served equally well within more conventional pop settings. Both sides of Antony are equally great, I just kind of wish he gave both equal time. Having said that "Swanlights" is a culmination and perfection of Antony's experimental side, and one that will both challenge listeners, and engage them emotionally every step of the way.

"Thank You For Your Love"

"Thank You For Your Love" by Antony and the Johnsons from Secretly Jag on Vimeo.

"Swanlights"


"Christina's Farm"

NO AGE - Everything In Between (Sub Pop)

Up until now I had little use for No Age. Their first proper album "Nouns" was released in 2008 amidst a slew of similar lo-fi indie rock (emphasis on the rock) bands. Times New Viking, Vivian Girls, Wavves and Titus Andronicus all released lo-fi albums that same year that rocked harder, and were ten times more dynamic and captivating than anything on "Nouns," critical hyperbole aside. I know that what I am saying is the minority opinion, particularly since No Age were rewarded with a top five spot on many year-end lists and I could barely have a conversation about music that year that didn't eventually contain the question 'have you heard No Age?' followed by the incredulous response 'really? I thought they would totally be your thing?!' once I versed my lack of enthusiasm for "Nouns." Now, I understand why people would be shocked that I didn't dig "Nouns." It was fuzzy and loud, which are two of my favorite musical qualities, and it hearkened back to the glory days of bands like Dinosaur Jr., Sonic Youth and Guided By Voices. But fuzzy and loud, as well as mining the bones of indie rock's past, can only get you so far. I need hooks, melodies and other sweet nothings to keep me interested after the allure of walls of lo-fi noise wears off. Even now as I listen to "Nouns" I cannot get past the monotony of that album. Sure, there are a few songs here and there that kill, but for the most part I stand by my initial assessment. "Teen Creeps" is a keeper, but as the album wears on, it grows increasingly flat and just plain boring, with few hooks, if any, to keep a discerning listener engaged. So when Dan, the man who hooks me up week after week with new shit to review, said "we go the new No Age in," the most excitement I could muster up was a shrug of the shoulders and a barely audible "meh."

Given my general apathy for "Nouns," why in the world am I am writing a review of their second proper release (third overall) "Everything In Between"? Well, admittedly on occasion I read what other reviewers say about music and I noticed the high praise that "Everything" was receiving. Somewhere in the back of my head my subconscious said that since lo-fi fuzz rock bands were now a dime a dozen, most of these critics were probably not giving extra points for the novelty of No Age's approach, as might have been the case with "Nouns," when the lo-fi movement was really starting to build. Soon there after I had the opportunity to see No Age open for Pavement, and I heard songs I didn't recognize from "Nouns" and they were good, really really good. So I thought, what the hell, I'll give "Everything" a spin. What's the worst that could happen? I lose 45 minutes of my life? If I can listen to Neon Indian's album at least three times trying to 'get it,' then I can give these guys, who are at least a real rock band, another shot.

I am incredibly glad I did. I still have general apathy for "Nouns," but "Everything In Between," may just end up being on my year-end list's top five. This is a hell of an album. It's more dynamic and diverse than "Nouns," and demonstrates a major evolution in songwriting for the duo of Randy Randall and Dean Allen Spunt.

The album begins with "Life Prowler," a song whose atmospheric guitar intro is undercut by a steadily pounding beat that turns what would be an almost post-rock ambiance into a pulsating anthem even before it turns into a proper forward lurching rhythm. It's an uplifting track that draws upon the emotionality of post-rock and the power of well crafted indie pop, and the best part is that it's really only an intro for what is to come. "Glitter" follows with dazzling guitar effects and bop and sway drums. If "Nouns" was missing hooks, "Glitter" piles them up with each and every line. It's a perfect song that builds upon the ambient pop of "Life Prowler," and blows it out into the universe. This shit is life affirming and life altering. Seriously, it's that good. This is the kind of song that you want to hear live with all of your friends at a big festival where you can lose yourselves in the beauty of the moment and the music. If you've ever had that experience, you will know what I'm talking about.

The band returns to their punky roots with "Fever Dreaming," which sounds a bit like an SST band of old, with squelching guitars thrown into the mix. It's a rocker and, dare I say, a hooky earworm from the band I considered a yawn fest a mere two years ago. "Depletion" finds the band further mining those old hardcore roots, with a darker sound reminiscent of Hüsker Dü or early Dinosaur Jr. Having said that, I feel it necessary that to say that while No Age often gets compared to those indie rock legends, and while I am not one to let an influence or a rip-off go unchecked, No Age ultimately sounds like No Age. Their raw emotive guitar sound does indeed fall within the same general vicinity as the Hüskers and Dinos and Sonic Youth, but they do not sound like those bands. They have their own voice and their own unique take on lo-fi indie/punk fuzz that sounds more like an evolution in sound than it does a throwback.

Switching things up, Randall and Spunt offer up the desperate acoustic-based "Common Heat," followed by the kind of Animal Collectivish meets crushing guitar-drone that isn't quite evil enough to be Sunn 0))) "Skinned" just to keep things interesting. Did I say this album was diverse?

What comes next is the stuff of legends. "Valley Hump Crash" begins and proceeds like a proper engaging indie pop-rock song. It would have been a more than satisfying track full of melody and bounce if the band had just provided the right kind of bridge or solo to preserve it in the amber of indie-rock goodness, but No Age isn't interested in mere goodness on "Everything." By now it is clear they are shooting for greatness and "Valley Hump Crash" brings them that much closer to their goal. Yeah there is a bridge, and it's pretty cool, but after the band returns to the song's main melody they start to emphasize a bit of a darker chord progression before exploding into a Sonic Youth-worthy freak out, while never losing the script on the melody. And then, with barely a breath, comes the stumbling rhythm of "Sorts" that sounds like a drunken love-sick punk trying to find his footing. Once he does, the song falls into a lockstep groove that sounds like victory over whatever internal and external demons that plagued him. Tellingly, the song comes to a close with the refrain "lalala without you." Both "Valley Hump Crash" and "Sorts" are amazing in their own right, but back-to-back they pack a one-two punch that no other album this year has produced, pushing "Everything" over the top, and redeeming No Age once and for all in my book.

The only weakness here is the band's insistence on producing decent but ultimately forgettable instrumentals like "Dusted" and "Positive Amputation." Oddly, both tracks would sound great on lesser records, but they drag "Everything" down after a straight run of amazingly dynamic songs.

Thankfully the band returns to the fray once more with the blistering "Shed and Transcend." It's an indie-punk rocker that smells like mosh pit and spilled beer everywhere, and all the better for it. "Chem Trials" closes the album with vocals being exchanged between Spunt and Randall and finds the band returning to a more uplifting fuzz-pop stance that brings the record full circle.

In the end "Everything In Between" is a sonic journey full of highs and lows, joy and despair, love and disdain curated by two men who's songwriting ability has grown by leaps and bounds to the point where it is no hyperbole to say that this album is a reflection of life itself - all of it's beauty, and all of it's unbearable shit. It is also a watershed album for the lo-fi movement; an album that shuns affectation for substance.

For a band that I never gave a second thought to, No Age has set a new standard for other lo-fi artists to aspire toward. All that is left to say is highest recommendation possible.

Very nice fan video for "Glitter"


Another example of badassery fan video for "Sorts"


Shitty sound, but awesome video with dancing kids of "Depletion" live

THROWBACK MONDAY - Basic Channel

In 1993 Mortiz Von Oswald and Mark Ernestus formed Basic Channel. Both a record label and techno act, Basic Channel became one of the main progenitors of dub-techno, which has recently enjoyed a healthy revival via Deepchord and its related artists/releases. Combining minimalistic German-techno with the hazy warmth of dub, Basic Channel crafted a sleek, but comforting new sound whose echoes can be heard in the skittish dissonance of Pole's first three classic releases as well as Burial's ghostly dub-step. Here's a small sampling of these Teutonic legends...

Scion Arrange and Process Basic Channel



"Quadrant Dub I (Part 1)"

BIG TROUBLES - Worry (Olde English Spelling Bee)

One of the more subtle influences in the whole lo-fi revival of the last few years has been shoegaze - that genre of early 90s music characterized by walls of distortion built from heavily textured guitars effects. Yet for most lo-fi bands shoegaze's gauzy sound was only a single, and often small, element in their sound. Sure Wavves and Vivian Girls played behind walls of distortion, but both bands were far more indebted to punk and garage rock than My Bloody Valentine. Now comes New Jersey's Big Trouble wearing shoegaze on their sleeve (btw, what is the water in New Jersey all of a sudden that it keeps producing so many great bands?). I would hesitate to call them a proper shoegaze band, because they are as equally indebted to C86 and lo-fi, making for a near perfect mix of sonics, but there is a very strong element of Jesus and Mary Chain's "Psychocandy" and MBV at work on their debut album "Worry."

Of course all of these references mean that inevitably Big Troubles are not fostering the most original sound ever, but even if "Worry" is composed of recycled pieces of early 90s indie rock they are the best pieces. Tracks like "Modern Intimacy" sounds like "Slanted & Enchanted"-era Pavement covering My Bloody Valentine. If that description doesn't at least make you want to soak in the band's retro mash-up of lo-fi and shoegaze, then I don't really think I wanna know you.

What makes the album a keeper is the amount of diversity between tracks. Some songs like "Freudian Slips" and "Bite Yr Tongue" are pure C93 pop sweetness, others like "Slouch" and "Georgia" sound like long lost Lush b-sides. Then there are the rockers like "Drastic and Difficult" that go into the red only to be followed by the mellow and beautiful haze of numbers like "Boomerang," one of the album's best tracks, even if it does come close to sounding suspiciously like Jesus and the Mary Chain's "Darklands." And, I haven't even mentioned yet how these guys totally have Pavement's "Watery, Domestic"-period down to a tee on other tracks, but they do.

Usually when a reviewer falls back on comparisons like I have throughout this review it is indicative of lazy writing. Sometimes music is hard to describe for writers, so they simply say "this sounds like xyz," even when it really doesn't (I wish I had a dollar for every stupid review that compared countless drone, post-rock and metal bands throughout the aughts to Godspeed You Black Emperor, if I did I would be writing this to you from a sandy beach near the equator). I promise you that isn't the case here. It is just that "Worry" truly does sound like a whole lot of other bands, and it would be dishonest to pretend otherwise. That doesn't detract from or necessarily make this album superfluous. It isn't like this is a remake of "Loveless," and it isn't like Pavement made a shoegaze record, so at least Big Troubles have excellent taste in music going for them, as well as an uncanny ability to combine styles into a seamless whole. Besides, a majority of indie's brightest lights over the past few years are guilty of pillaging the past, why should Big Troubles feel any shame in doing it and doing it well?

"Modern Intimacy"

BIG TROUBLES "MODERN INTIMACY" from OLDE ENGLISH SPELLING BEE on Vimeo.

"Bite Yr Tongue"

BIG TROUBLES "BITE YR TONGUE" from OLDE ENGLISH SPELLING BEE on Vimeo.

ZOLA JESUS - Valusia (Sacred Bones)

Earlier this year Zola Jesus (a/k/a) Nika Roza Danilova caused what could be considered a stir among music obsessives with the release of her "Stridulum" ep. The record was a sharp break from her previous lo-fi 4AD proto-goth. "Stridulum" maintained Zola's dark roots, but was a far more polished affair, so polished that fans of her work had to radically adjust their expectations in order to digest what was, in the end, a pretty solid release. At the same time, some wondered if this was really indicative of a change in direction for Danilova, or if it was a one-off experiment. While I understand the desire by some to hold out hope that she return to the hazy atmospherics of her superb "The Spoils" LP, typically when an artist goes from grime to shine, they don't go back. Unfortunately, "Valusia" drives a stake right through the heart of any hope for a "Spoils II" (as does the fact that her new LP is slated under the title "Stridulum II" rather than "The Spoils"). Not only has Danilova dyed her hair from black to blond, but she's left Madison, WI for the city lights of LA and turned up the brightness on her sound even further. Thankfully she still has that amazingly soulful voice to see us through these drastic changes.

"Valusia" starts off with "Poor Animal," a song that virtually qualifies as a pop single when compared to Danilova's past work. It still bears the imprint of 80s post-punk and proto-goth, but it tilts further toward bouncy dancy new wave. Yet just when the track threatens to relegate itself to a fate less than stellar, a bit of that Zola Jesus of old returns injecting some much needed dynamism into the proceedings with a dramatic bridge of strings, a single steady beat and her incredible voice. Once over she maintains the intensity to finish the song out on a high note. It maybe a far cry from her past, but if you can get over that "Poor Animal" will grow on you, and you'll find yourself humming it from time to time like any good pop song.

The ep's darkest moment comes with "Tower," a synth-based blues dirge that recalls the menace and horror of Danilova's earlier work. Having said that, it is still a much more polished version that you can't help wishing was a little more charred around the edges. Still Zola Jesus does darkness well, and "Tower" is a welcome blackened pit in between bright and shining lights. "Sea Talk" follows and sounds a bit like a more upbeat version of Joy Division's "Atmosphere." It's not a bad song, but it is also the ep's least memorable track.

"Valusia" comes to a close with the stripped down "Lightsick." The track feature's Danilova's voice over staccato piano and effects. It's an incredibly pretty song, not beautiful, but pretty that features Zola Jesus' greatest asset - Danilova's voice - front and center. In the end, like "Stridulum," "Valusia" is a solid, if not spectacular work, and one that will require an adjustment of expectations for fans who have been with Zola Jesus since the beginning. Although, I think it's fair at this point to simply give in and acknowledge that this is indeed who Zola Jesus is now. She may be less mysterious, but she is nevertheless an engaging and unnaturally talented artist with a voice to die for. I wouldn't be surprised if her forthcoming full-length lays all present doubt about her change in direction to rest.

"Sea Talk"

Zola Jesus - Sea Talk (Official Video) from Souterrain Transmissions on Vimeo.

THROWBACK MONDAY - John Coltrane Quartet "Alabama"

Welcome to a new feature here at the Luna Blog. Recently, I was forced to change my writing schedule, and didn't like that there was more than a two day gap between weekly posts here, so I wanted to come up with something to fill the void, but something that was worthwhile on its own accord.

Often as a music writer your week is consumed with listening to the same couple of new releases over and over again to write a thorough and honest review. It's only on occasion that you get to take some time and chill with the records that populate your past and made you a professional music fan in the first place. That's okay though, I have always been a big believer in progression, and unlike a lot of older reviewers, I don't find any particular period of music better than any other. I think that new bands are releasing as good of records today as others were back in the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. So I get pretty thrilled when I hear what labels like Mexican Summer, Woodsist and Olde English Spelling Bee are cooking up, and pretty bummed with mid-age music reviews refuse to acknowledge any good music past Wilco's "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot."

At the same time, I encounter a lot of younger indie rock fans who don't even know Pavement's entire catalog, which I kind of thought was a pre-requisite to even be considered an entry-level alt. But that's cool. In everyone's life there is that first time in learning something new. There was certainly a time when I didn't know who Can was, and a first time that I heard their music. Now that I have, I find that I sometimes take music's past for granted while I seek out the newest and freshest sounds available. Also, having been as serious a fan of music as I have been throughout my waking life, I also take for granted that 'sure everyone knows who Can is, right?' so let's talk about this new limited 7" on Not Not Fun that sounds like Can, when, of course, they don't know who Can is.

Personally I find the progression of the popular music's history fascinating. I think it's interesting to watch as music evolves and mutates, and I think it adds to our appreciation to understand music's history and a particular artist's place in that history. Music doesn't exist in a vacuum, there are points of reference and context for everything we listen to, and I hazard to say that to gain a full understanding of whatever it is that you choose to listen to, you must understand its context.

So I thought, what if I feature a song every Monday as a way to give props to our past, and, who knows, maybe even turn some people on to sounds they missed in their personal development as a music fan. Further, I realized that most blogs are worried about staying one foot ahead of everyone else by exclusively focusing on the newest and latest sounds, rather than looking backwards. That is just the nature of the beast now and I am certainly just as guilty of that as everyone else. But, what if we take just one little post, one little day to shine the light on something old, which may turn out to be something new for the uninitiated? What could be the harm in that? At worse, maybe it will remind us of something we have long neglected in our record collection.

I'm going to shut up now and get this Throwback Monday started. For our inaugural post I offer up someone that everyone is probably aware of - the John Coltrane Quartet. Their music has influenced artists as far and wide as the Beatles to Sunn 0))), and, I would argue, they are the single greatest musical group in the history of popular music, and yes I am saying they are better than the Beatles. You can flame me in the comment section for that statement, but while you are doing so check out this 1963 performance of "Alabama" performed by John Coltrane, Elvin Jones, McCoy Tyner and Jimmy Garrison. Enjoy...

TORCHE - Songs For Singles (Hydra Head)

Torche's new eight song ep "Songs for Singles" carries with it a cover sticker with a quote from drummer Rick Smith, reading "It’s a bunch of radio rock bullshit." Smith's characterization, while meant as a joke, is a fairly accurate descriptor of the band's approach on the aptly titled "Singles." Legend has it that when the band set out to write their follow up to 2008's all killer, no filler "Meanderthal" they came up with an overloaded bunch of songs that they didn't quite know what to do with just yet. Rather than force an album, they stripped some of the tracks down and decided to work within the confines of an ep. The band's decision to scale back format, and thus expectations, was probably a wise choice, as "Singles" is an enjoyable if, at times, minor record.

Clocking it at just under twenty-two minutes, the ep is an onslaught of short, tight and fast tracks. Given the ep's limited breadth, the band focuses almost exclusively on their pop-metal side, rather than offering up the type of massive diverse statement of intent that "Meanderthal" was. The band burns straight through the first six tracks without pause, but even playing with a get in and get out approach, they still manage to make a hell of an impression. These may be quick and simple pop tracks at heart, but Torche plays them with all the power and heaviness of the sludge gods they have become.

The real payoff comes with "Singles" second half. "Face the Wall" and "Out Again," which time-wise account for nearly half of the total ep, finds the band slowing things down, pulling more serious faces and annihilating everything in their path. "Face the Wall" is a crushing atmospheric track reminiscent of Jesu that features neo-shoegaze guitar and plodding doom-laden drums. It's a thoughtful and welcome change of pace after the sudden rush of blood that was the ep's first half. "Out Again," returns to an upbeat pop format, but the track tones down the heavy and breaths a bit more than Torche's other slabs of pop-metal here. The track even has a bit of a groove that you kind of get lost in as it plays out. It's a nice change of pace proving that the band can rock hard even when they turn down both volume and speed.

In the end, "Singles" works as both a stop-gap between albums, as well as a worthy work in it's own right. It's certainly not a proper follow up to "Meanderthal," but it's not supposed to be. If you adjust your expectations though, these twenty-one minutes and some change will rock you nevertheless. It's fun, fast and furious, and easy to hit the repeat on. Just understand that minus "Face the Wall," this is mostly a simple snack in between (hopefully) two much more substantial meals of sludge metal greatness.

"Face the Wall" live


"Cast Into Unknown"


"Out Again"

GRINDERMAN - Grinderman 2

Nick Cave. Really what the hell can you say about Nick Cave at this point? He is like the Clint Eastwood of rock and roll; the perennial bad-ass for the thinking man. He is an inch away from the legendary status of Iggy Pop, and if we are honest his music has been massively more consistent and groundbreaking throughout the years. This is the guy who gave us the brutality of the Birthday Party in the early 80s followed by the even more spectacular post-punk blues of the Bad Seeds, one of the greatest acts in the history of rock music. Period. And for the record, I'll fight any man to the death who says differently. His is a dark universe of indifferent and angry gods, lovers and murderers (who are often one and the same) and generally bad mutherfuckers; bad in the Queen's English sense of the word, as well as in terms of street cred. Even his ballads sound predatory for the most part, like a wolf meticulously preparing to overtake a more than willing victim. His characters are always striving toward either salvation or annihilation, and as a result his music and lyrics are laden with a romanticism. Like Johnny Cash before him, he is a prince of darkness striving for light, but simply can't quite get there because of some internal flaw put there by nature, nurture, god or the devil, depending on your reading of existence. To quote his tailor's assistant (and he is impeccably dressed like the devil in a Sunday hat) he is "terrifying, but always polite and courteous." In short he is Nick fucking Cave.

Having said all of that Cave took the Bad Seeds down a very different and, admittedly, less satisfactory road beginning with "The Boatman's Call" in 1997. He moved away from dark and violent narratives toward confessional ballads throughout the aughts until the advent of Grinderman in 2006. Consisting of Bad Seeds' members Warren Ellis (also of Dirty Three fame), Martyn Casey and Jim Sclavunos, Grinderman wasn't just a return to form for Cave, it was a fucking rebirth. Nearly as raw as the early Bad Seeds work, the four-man set-up featuring Cave on the most rudimentary primitive rhythm guitar was dirty, dangerous and raw as fuck. It also seethed with evil, so much glorious evil. Some critics called it Cave's mid-life crises, I prefer to think of it Cave's mid-life gift. Cave proved that mid-life didn't have to devolve into a cliche of cheating on your wife and buying a sports car, it could also be an opportunity to become an authentic individual again with the wisdom that a younger version of yourself simply couldn't begin to approximate. Grinderman kind of reminds me of a Louis CK quote: "I know too much about life to have any optimism because I know even if it's nice, it's going to lead to shit." After years of Cave's 'niceness' that pessimism and shit was Grinderman. Yet, in typical Cave fashion he played the part of predator, not victim, and it was glorious.

Grinderman not only featured Cave in the role he was born to play, but it also re-energized the Bad Seeds, who produced "Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!", their best album in over a decade in the year following Grinderman's debut album. "Lazarus" was full of the vim and vigor that made Grinderman so exhilarating.

Now Grinderman has returned with a follow up album that mixes the rawness of their debut with the diversity and semi-polish of the Bad Seeds' "Lazarus." The band tears through the first three dirty blues tracks with a coiled intensity that explodes during choruses wherein Cave howls his tales of sex and horror with a punk ferocity. Each song provides the type of visceral thrill that only an artist like Cave can invoke. There is a well-earned seedy danger to these songs that is so sorely missing from today's younger artists. The Black Keys and Jack Black's various projects are nice and all, but no one does this kind of twisted raw virile punk-inflected blues like Cave and his band.

Following the album's front-loaded rockers, the band slows things down for the slow burning epic "When My Baby Comes." Initially reminiscent of the Bad Seeds' work, full of sorrowful strings and lacerating guitar stabs, the song eventually culminates into a bombastic blues-laden finale that reflects the horrors of the track's lyrics, which paint a picture of personal and collective annihilation, institutionalization and delusion. Like I said, the White Stripes this isn't. It's one of the album's most captivating and fully realized tracks, combining the Bad Seeds' years of professional refinement with Grinderman's stripped to the bone approach.

The minor, almost freak-folk, "What I Know" follows before the band flexes it's muscle again with the stellar 'but this goes to 11' "Evil!" Over a chorus of voices screaming the titular word, Cave belts out his tale of obsession as Sclavunos' explosive jazz drums do battle with Ellis' violent guitar attacks while Casey attempts to keep them both balanced on the same axis with a bassline that acts as the song's sole backbone. It's an absolute barn burner of a song and one of Cave's best in years.

The album slows down again for the swagger of "Kitchenette" which contains one of the year's best verses:

What's this husband of yours given to you/Oprah Winfrey on a plasma screen/And a brood of jug-eared buck-toothed imbeciles/The ugliest kids I've ever seen

Kicking against the pricks indeed. That's the kind of invective that made Cave in the first place, and it's a welcome return to form. In typical contradictory Cave fashion he follows up "Kitchenette" up with the album's most uplifting, sincerely romantic track "Palaces of Montezuma" which recounts all the things he promises to deliver to his lover including "Miles Davis the black unicorn" and "a custard-coloured super-dream of Ali McGraw and Steve McQueen." With it's northern soul backing vocals and light-infused melody it's initially the most jarring song on the record, simply because it stands out starkly against the overwhelmingly violently dark tracks that populated the rest of the album. After repeat listens, though. the track emerges as a highlight, even if it does sound like the kind of inspired grand gesture of love that Bono used to write, and would probably kill an African child for just to get a taste of that kind of magic again.

The album ends with the psychedelic blues of "Bellringer Blues," bringing "Grinderman 2" to a proper shadowy close. Once the album ends, it's hard not to hit play again and again, and in fact that is what I have been doing going on a week straight now, and not only because I wanted to write an honest review of this record, but because this is Cave's best release in over a decade. It tops the first Grinderman record and is much more of a return to form to the classic Bad Seeds' sound, or at least attitude, than "Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!" Cave seems to have been working through some things over the past decade, and expressing it in a more introverted version of the Bad Seeds along the way, but "Grinderman 2" is proof that the wolf is back and he has no hesitation about going in for the kill and making it as bloody as possible.

Wheeler says: "If Nick Cave were the leader of a religious cult, I would totally join...and I would drink the Kool-Aid."

"Heathen Child" NSFW and batshit crazy in an awesome way video


Awesome live version of "Worm Tamer"


"Evil!"


"When My Baby Comes"

AUTRE NE VEUT - S/T (Olde English Spelling Bee)

More often than not when you put on a new record there is a courting period wherein you digest new sounds gradually and assimilate grouping structures within the music, while attaching emotional responses to what you are hearing, which can be changed based on time and context. Even albums that may end up being favorites, are not immediately loved. Most records, like any relationship, take time to get to know before you make that commitment to stick with it beyond a fleeting lustful fling. But some records...well some records jar you out of complacency like a bolt of lightening and make you feel something immediate and strong; whether it be aggression, excitement, sorrow or joy. Some records you have a connection with that surpasses the normal progression of incorporating music into your being. Autre Ne Veut's self-titled debut is one of those records. It's jarring, disorienting, familiar and comforting all at once; and insanely good.

Let me attempt to convey what went through my head when I hit play and album opener "Tell Me" came rolling out of my speakers: 'This isn't too bad, it isn't like I thought it would be. Kinda sounds like a lo-fi TV on the Radio. Like that guy's voice, real soulful. Check out this freaky funhouse rhythm. Hmm, it's kind of like a chillwave version of TV on the Radio. Oh yeah here we go, that's the sweet spot! Sexy as hell multi-tracked chorus is pulling all the right strings. This is the fucking bomb. Hot damn!!! Oh keep it coming, keep it coming, please don't stop...' No, I didn't have to change my pants afterwards, but I did feel like I had finally found the one album this year that would come out of nowhere and kill. And if you don't want to read any more, I'll make it quick and let you know that yes, that feeling became reality once I came to the end Autre Ne Veut's debut. This is it. This is the album we've been waiting for to come and sweep us off our feet with precious little hype or buzz to precede it.

So, if you are still reading this and haven't already dropped everything to pick up a copy, let me try and convince you a little bit more. The mysterious act (don't know if they are a band, a man, or a unicorn) produce a quasi brand of chillwave that incorporates heavy doses of R&B as well as off kilter electronica into their mix of heartfelt songs. As a result they/he/it have crafted an original sound that is as challenging as it is comforting. It's soul soothing, yet jarring at the same time. The familiarity locked within the complexity of the music is what makes this immediately lovable, while at the same time rewarding repeated in-depth immersions into the album. Take a listen to "Emotional" and you will latch quickly onto the subtly tweeked R&B vocals, but be disoriented by the shuffled beat and keyboards that sound a bit like a drunk falling down the stairs. It is that mixture of the experimental with the straight forward that makes this an album for everyone. Dance kids can groove on it, IDM snobs will find much to sift through, indie rockers will love the emotionality, hell, I bet even your grandma could rock this, even though she might wonder if she doubled dosed on her pain meds.

I don't really know what more to say about this, other than a single moment more of life without it is not worth living. I'm sure I could stick around and come up with more comparisons and analogies, but that would waste your time in getting off the computer and picking up a copy of this incredible record, which is destined for year end lists for sure. I will end with one more addition to my description of Autre Ne Veut's debut and that is beauty. This is an incredibly beautiful record. In the manner that Pavement's Slanted and Enchanted carried with it so much beauty in between the noise, Autre Ne Veut's debut carries with it so much beauty in between it's topsy turvy electronic compositions, making the human heart at the center of all the machines the real star here.

AUTRE NV "SOLDIER" from OLDE ENGLISH SPELLING BEE on Vimeo.

AUTRE NV "WAKE UP" from OLDE ENGLISH SPELLING BEE on Vimeo.

LES SAVY FAV - Root for Ruin (Frenchkiss)

Three years ago Les Savy Fav returned from an extended hiatus with the rollicking and infectious "Let's Stay Friends". The album wasn't so much a return to form, as it was a new beginning for the band. The band's angular art-punk was toned down and dipped in a pop sheen for easier, but no less satisfying, consumption. What remained was the band's undeniable energy matched only by their mind-boggling live performances. As a result, "Let's Stay Friends" lived up to its name, never seeming to wear out its welcome on the stereo. Now the band has released their follow up, "Root For Ruin," which, in a nutshell, is a continuation of the sound the band cultivated on "Let's Stay Friends," and while it may not reinvent the wheel, it finds the band tighter than they have ever been before, refining their sound into crystalline nuggets of addictive post-punk pop.

"Appetites" kicks the album off with guitarists Seth Jabour, Andrew Reuland and drummer Harrison Haynes stabbing at the air with angular hooks, riffs and beats that recalls Les Savy Fav of old before the song begins to take shape as a pop-punk barn burner, albeit one sewn from the sharp jagged angles of art-punk. Lead madman Tim Harrington leads the charge forward from this point in an ode to gluttony. He closes out the song quoting the Silver Jews "Punks in the Beerlight" screaming "I love you to the max." It's a unifying indie rock insider moment that elevates the already anthematic song into battle hymn territory for an army of beards and fixed-gear bikes.

The band continues to tear it up on the superb "Dirty Knails." A bit darker and more ferocious, but no less anthematic, the track mixes a dirty blues rhythm pattern with spider-web post-punk guitars. Harrington sings with the passion of a preacher at a religious revival, even intoning "Holy Ghost, come get me now, I wanna hear those church bells sound," before coming back to earth with the brutal "watch me grovel, watch me bruise, watch me crawl across the fucking floor for you". In typical Harrington fashion he is able to blend the profound with the profane seamlessly while never giving pause to the fist pumping rockers his maniacal vocals breath life into.

The band slows things down a bit on "Sleepless in Silverlake" and "Let's Get Out of Here," and while "Silverlake" may veer into filler territory, it's still better than most other bands' singles. "Let's Get Out of Here", on the other hand, is a perfect chunk of indie-pop. With an addictive chorus that recalls "Doolittle"-era Pixies, the song is one of the band's most straight-forward and accessible pieces to date, yet substantial enough to satisfy longtime fans. "Lips n' Stuff" is just as poppy, but more perverse, painting a picture of drug-fueled sex, and full of a grin-inducing lyrics.

Not every song is a pop-punk rager though. The band returns to their experimental roots with "Poltergeist" which sounds like no wave played by Spacemen 3 backed by A Silver Mt. Zion. Not surprisingly the track is an immediate standout, and a welcome one at that. For all their delirious pop-punk awesomeness, Les Savy Fav have always been much smarter than that. More than any other art-punk band, Les Savy Fav has the talent and ability to craft songs with more energy and inventiveness than anyone, save, maybe, Fugazi. "Poltergeist" is a prime example of what the band can do when they shed pop trappings and push the boundaries of their sound. Album closer "Clear Spirits" is another break away from pop for the band and toward something approximating Public Image Ltd.'s brand of post-punk, and while not as immediately satisfying as "Poltergeist" it's another reminder that Les Savy Fav is more than just a hopped up pop band.

Admittedly the album is backloaded with some truly forgettable filler. "Dear Crutches" and "Calm Down," are not really worthy of the Les Savy Fav catalog, but despite their dead weight, the album delivers up more great songs than most. What the band will do next, after what is sure to be a tour chock full of outrageous live shows, is anyone's guess. Whether they continue down this post-punk pop road, or whether they return to a more experimental art-punk stance, "Root For Ruin" makes it clear that they have the intelligence, energy and chops to do whatever the hell they damn well want and still please their audience.

"Appetites" live


"Let's Get Out of Here" live