Ted Leo And The Pharmacists - The Brutalist Bricks (Matador)

"The new millennium is tough, for some more than others, what a ridiculous understatement," snarls Ted Leo on "Ativan Eyes," a document of economic class struggle set over bouncy pop punk from his latest "The Brutalist Bricks." The song is a catchy energetic piece of agitprop that would make a perfect soundtrack for a sunny day, even if the subject matter is nothing to smile about. Yet that dichotomy is what has defined Ted Leo throughout his career. He makes snappy addictive pop songs fashioned out of a patchwork of punk, folk, reggae, ska and Thin Lizzy-infected rock and roll. His music is like a shot of adrenaline that comes in handy during long drives or when you need that extra push at the gym, while his lyrics are thought-provoking nuggets of political and personal discourse. Leo has been called an idealist from time to time, and I often wonder if that isn't more because of the often lively disposition of his music than it is a reflection of his politics and lyrics. But then again, what else do you call a guy who has the red/black anarcho-syndicalist flag planted in the middle of his lyric sheet with the words "The Truth Is In The Garden" printed over it?

Following the somewhat disappointing "Living With The Living," it was hard not to approach "The Brutalist Bricks" with trepidation. As one reviewer wrote, it was possible that "Living" marked the beginning of the sunset years in Leo's much respected musical career. Those fears are quickly laid to rest as soon as the needle hits the groove on "A Mighty Sparrow." The song kicks off with Leo's distinctive voice calling out "when the cafe doors exploded, I reacted to, reacted to you." Soon thereafter the Pharmacists explode as well, sounding as lean and tight as ever. It's a good sign that heralds a return to form for Leo, which continues throughout an album full of solid bangers.

For the next 40 minutes, with the exception of the pleasant, but slight, "One Polaroid A Day," and the confounding "Tuberculoids Arrive In Hop," Leo and the Pharmacists lay down some of the finest pop punk in years. There isn't anything here that we haven't heard before from Leo, but that is okay. The problem with "Living," was that Leo attempted too many different individual styles of music, and in the end it came off as music tourism. This isn't to say that there aren't some great moments to be found on that album, but if I want to hear reggae I will listen to Lee "Scratch" Perry, not Ted Leo. On the other hand, if I want to hear pop punk, I can't think of anyone better to provide than Ted Leo, and provide he does with "The Brutalist Bricks." From the Oi Oi of "Where Was My Brain?" to the indie/garage/classic-rock mashup of "Last Days," Leo and the Pharmacists fully satisfy.

Two songs stand out and more than satisfy, they are goddamned spectacular. The first is "Mourning in America," which draws a direct line from the racial politics of Ronald Reagan's "southern strategy" to the "tea-baggers" and "birthers" of today. Leo's voice is at its most urgent here, while the Pharmacists play with all the requisite sound and fury befitting the song's subject matter. It is an angry and desperate piece that exposes the racism seated deep in the breast of America's right-wing, who increasingly resemble those white-hooded terrorists of old. Leo calls them out for being "long manipulated and willfully dumb." One of the great modern tragedies is that while there is plenty to be angry about, the real enemies, corporations and their bought and paid for politicians, manipulate peoples' fear, causing them to act against their own interests. So what else do you call poor foreclosed white folks who shows up to town hall meetings screaming that Obama is a Nazi for wanting to provide them with health care?

The other song is "Bottled Up In Cork," which begins with the same fury as "Mourning," with Leo singing about a "peace keeping" debate on the floor of the U.N. The song quickly turns from the political into a personal travelogue. The music bears the melodicism of a world traveller imparting insight. One gets the sense from the song that Leo loves the world he lives in, loves to explore it and loves the people he meets along the way, but that the misdeeds of Washington and Wall Street, which threatens those places and people, are never far from his mind. One line stands out in particular; "a little goodwill goes a mighty long way." If there is any expression to sum up Leo's approach to music and politics that would be it. Leo has always come in goodwill, even when he is singing about the atrocious realities of our time, and "The Brutalist Bricks" is another fine example of his agitprop pop.

"A Mighty Sparrow" live on Jimmy Fallon


"Mourning In America"


"Bottled Up In Cork"

The National - "Terrible Love"

Regardless of how very accessible and somewhat popular this band is, The National completely won me over last year at Pitchfork with their performance. I have admittedly been anxiously awaiting their new album, "High Violet," which drops May 11. They debuted a new track last night on Jimmy Fallon called "Terrible Love." It takes a minute to get going, but once it does it more than satisfies.

R.I.P. Mark Linkous 1962-2010

"Gold Days" is one of my favorite songs of all time, the album it was from, "It's A Wonderful Life," is a masterpiece as well. When my first daughter was born, this was the song I most wanted her to hear. I will miss you Mark. From the first Sparklehorse album to your excellent collaboration last year with Fennesz, you made haunting, beautiful and emotionally resonant music.

Titus Andronicus - The Monitor (XL Recordings)

New Jersey's Titus Andronicus' debut album "The Airing of Grievances" was the best bit of ramshackle, heart on the sleeve, basement-punk since the Replacement's "Tim." Mixing the righteous fire of the Clash, the loser piss-drunk heartland noise of the 'Mats and a dash of Celtic punk ala the Pogues, Titus Andronicus threatened to be one of those bands that really matters. So expectations are fairly high for "The Monitor," the band's sophomore followup.

Musicians typically do one of three things on their sophomore release; a) deliver more of the same, b) expand their sound every so slightly without upsetting their basic template, or c) overambitiously veer off into a new direction entirely. For their sophomore record, Titus Andronicus choose a little bit from column b and a lot from column c.

The album kicks off with "A More Perfect Union," which boasts the line "tramps like us, baby we were born to die." Lead singer Patrick Stickles' invocation of the Boss is more than a little prescient, since the fellow Jerseyite's influence runs throughout "The Monitor" as much, or more so, than any other. Later in the album Stickles declares "I'm destroying everything that wouldn't make me more like Bruce Springsteen." Unfortunately, epic "Thunder Road"-sized songs are not really what these guys do best. That doesn't stymie the band's ambition. Hell, even the album title is ambitious. Named after the USS Monitor, the U.S. Navy's first ironclad warship used by the Union during the Civil War, the album is inspired by that conflict and the ongoing unrest in the United States ever since. The band throws in quotes from Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis and Walt Whitman throughout the album to further the point. Stickles has explained their raison d'être as such:

"it is a record about how the conflicts that led our nation into that great calamity remain unresolved, and the effect that this ongoing division has on our personal relationships and our behavior and how they’re all out to get us (or maybe not?) and yadda yadda yadda.”

The dismissiveness at the end of that statement reflects the dichotomy of Titus Andronicus; one minute they are earnestly attempting to understand, and decry, the injustice of the world they live in, and the next they are throwing up their arms, screaming 'fuck it!' That vacillation is part of what makes the band so enjoyable. They aren't trendfucking hipsters who are too cool to be unironic, nor are they overly earnest self-righteous sourpusses. The problem with "The Monitor," though, is that musically that vacillation just isn't half as interesting or fun as you want it to be.

The band burns through the first four tracks without blinking an eye and it sounds as if they are on course for another winner of a record. Eric Harm's drums bash and pound with proper aplomb, guitarists Stickles and David Robbins throw off memorable guitar licks right and left, while Ian Graetzer's pulsating bass gives the band a strong core from which to fight. Battle cries like "The enemy is everywhere!" and "You will always be a loser!" define the songs and demand to be screamed joyfully at the top of the lungs. The band's golden run culminates with "Richard II," the best song on the album. The song is a punk rock Celtic ho-down as good, or maybe even better, than the best Pogues song. It's a militant revenge fantasy that finds Stickles declaring "There's only one dream that I keep close, and it's the one of my hand at your throat," and only seconds later claiming "I will not deny my humanity, I'll be rolling in it like a pig in feces." Dichotomy? Yes, but one that is easily understood by anyone who grew up listening to the Clash, or ever wore a Che Guevara t-shirt and meant it.

As the album proceeds, those epic "Thunder Road"-sized songs start piling up. The problem is that, with the exception of the amazing "Four Score and Seven," the songs just aren't that memorable. The nearly nine-minute "A Pot In Which To Piss," has moments of real brilliance, and certainly the final minutes of the song are some of the finest on the album, but no matter how many times I listen to it, I just can't really remember much about it once it ends. "Theme from "Cheers" is a celebration of drinking and loserdom that suffers from sounding a little too much like a generic barroom anthem. "To Old Friends and New," a duet with Jenn Wassner of Wye Oakis, continues the band's quest for blackout drunk with an attempt to fashion a closing time hymn. It is as slow and deliberate as a drunk's steps toward the couch at the end of the night. While it isn't a bad song, it just kind of brings the party way down, and again does nothing to differentiate itself from similarly situated songs. The album ends with "The Battle of Hampton Roads," a fourteen-minute epic that sounds like an old Bright Eyes outtake, but only reminds you that back in the day Connor Oberst did this kind of thing a lot better. Stickles' lyrics are properly indignant and self-loathing enough, but again the music just sounds like a generic epic rock anthem.

The lone exception, as noted before, is "Four Score and Seven," here the band takes that epic-song template and loads it full of moments of real inspiration. Beginning with strummed guitars, mournful fiddle and harmonica, the song builds to a gorgeous fanfare of horns and percussion before the band explodes at the halfway point with another punk-inspired war cry that would make Joe Strummer proud of his children. The song proves that the band has it in them to write nine-minute epics, but its shining brilliance only underscores the drab blandness of every other lengthy track here.

In the end, "The Monitor" is a picture of Titus Andronicus shooting for the moon and coming up just a little too short. One can't write off the album as sophomore slump, in fact the problem is just the opposite - too many ideas, too much ambition. As a result the album's second half is just kind of a mess, and not the ramshackle mess that one hopes for from a band that was so clearly poised to take up the mantle of the Replacements circa "Let It Be" and "Tim." Oddly enough, because of its flashes of genius and excellent first half, "The Monitor" will make the listener anxious for more from Titus Andronicus. These guys clearly have what it takes to be at the top of the indie world in them, and one can't fault them from thinking big, but they also need to play to their strengths, which are plenty, rather than chasing the shadow of that other, more well-known, Jersey giant.

Stream the entire album at the band's MySpace page

Joanna Newsom - Have One On Me (Drag City)

Joanna Newsom unleashed her three album long "Have One On Me" last week to nearly universal acclaim. Interestingly enough, critics received advance copies of this behemoth only a week prior to its release. Now normally I wouldn't come right out and question the legitimacy of my fellow writers' praise, or their comprehension of what they are writing about, but I kind of find it hard to believe anyone really got a grip on this overly dense work in time to declare it the masterpiece that it is being hailed as. Barring someone in a bunker at Pitchfork listening to this album repeatedly for seven days straight, their ridiculously high score of 9.2 seems more than a little suspect. Some critics have tried to downplay the length of the album. 'It is only 18 songs!' some cry in defense. What they neglect to mention is that song lengths average 7 to 8 minutes. Furthermore, Newsom isn't exactly a verse chorus verse songwriter, the songs either meander or change like the weather, so it takes many repeated listens to determine the merit of any given song.

Having said that, what makes what I am about to write any more legitimate? Nothing really, other than I waited an extra week before I took on the task of writing a review of this unwieldy album, and I can assure you, my gentle readers, that I dedicated ever minute of free listening time to this album, which I might add was sometimes an unbearable task. Whether or not that makes me better qualified to tackle "Have One On Me" is for you to decide, but let's be honest and admit that probably no one is qualified at this point in this record's release to declare it a failure or a masterpiece.

Let me begin by saying that I thought Newsom's "Ys" was one of the best albums of the last decade. It was epic, complicated and gorgeous every step of the way. So I come to "Have One On Me" as a fan of Newsom. Lord knows there are plenty of detractors. Some people hate that warbly voice of hers, some can't stand the renaissance fair affectations, some think she is too obscure or wordy. I am not one of those people. Fortunately for most of her critics, the warbly voice is almost entirely absent on "Have One On Me." If there is one thing I can say for certain about the album it is that Newsom has learned to sing.

What of everything else though? Well, in a nutshell this is an album that eschews the epic scope of "Ys" as well as the simple digestible nuggets of "Milk-Eyed Mender," for something more difficult to get a grasp on, something more languid and, at times, frustrating. Some songs feature understated orchestral and band arrangements, some just Newsom at her piano or harp.

Broken up into three discs, the strongest tracks come early in the program. "Easy" and the title track bear a slight resemblance to the tracks on "Ys" except where those tracks were full orchestral affairs, these a chamber pieces and not nearly as epic in scope. They are still slightly knotty arrangements that need to be unpacked over time, but they aren't as dense, or, in the end, as rewarding as the tracks on "Ys." Yes, they are pleasing, but they seem like a degraded copy of what Newsom has done before. "'81" follows and is an immediate standout. Essentially just Newsom and her harp, the piece sounds lusher and more romantic than her chamber arrangements. As with the best Newsom songs, there is an ache in her voice and music that underscores the delivery of lyrics centered around a quest for innocence. It's gorgeous stuff and a perfect Newsom song.

The album's real highlight is "Good Intentions Paving Company." Here Newsom draws upon early American composition to craft a rousing ragtime motif for the song's backbone. It is a peppy composition that works partly because in between all the smiles and sunshine is a complex Newsom arrangement that throws in an extended meditative middle section that elevates the track beyond a simple pop affair. It's one of Newsom's best pieces to date, and signals a new direction in sound for her. Unfortunately any exploration in that direction is going to have to wait for another time, because following "Good Intentions Paving Company" Newsom turns toward an almost unbearably languid approach throughout the rest of the album. This isn't entirely a bad thing, but one can't help but wish that some of the light from "Good Intentions Paving Company" would shine a little bit more throughout "Have One On Me."

The problem with the rest of the album is that it is so subdued at times it is barely even there. Certainly there are exceptions like the masterful "Soft As Chalk," but songs like "Baby Birch," "In California" and "Occident" require an extremely attentive listen to appreciate. As someone who will sit and listen to a drone record for an hour, it is safe to say I possess the requisite patience, the problem is that at times Newsom's songs just aren't compelling enough to make me want to sit and listen that closely. You really have to be in the mood for this stuff, I mean really in the mood. Having said that, there are rewards aplenty for the patient listener, I am just not sure how many people are going to want to dedicate themselves to such an undertaking. A few listens to "Jackrabbits" or "Go Long" satisfy immensely, and give hope that the struggle to endure "Have One On Me" is worth it. Ultimately each listener will have to decide on their own whether or not they are in for the long haul here. I propose that ultimately "Have One On Me" is worth it, warts and all. I can't say that it is a masterpiece, because it is a laborious listen, and at times you have to force yourself into it. At the same time, none of it is actually bad, it just isn't that compelling overall. In the end, you can't help but simply like Newsom here. Once upon a time she was a love or hate proposition. For better or worse "Have One On Me" allows listeners to simply like her, and while this record may broaden her appeal for some, it does so at the detriment of her music.

Listen to "'81"


Listen to "Good Intentions Paving Company"


Listen to "Jackrabbits"


Listen to "Soft As Chalk"

Burzum - Belus (Byelobog Productions)

Burzum, a/k/a Varg Vikernes, is the most problematic figure in the musical underground. He is a murderer, an arsonist and a racist, yet his music is some of the most important in the last twenty years. He was the single most essential member of the Norwegian black metal movement, and is responsible for shaping the sound of black metal more than any other musician, save maybe Bathory. His hypnotic style of black metal launched countless imitators all in search of the transcendental power of what has come to be known as the "Burzum Buzz" - that blizzard of sound that Varg creates using tremolo-picked guitars. His influence has stretched far beyond the world of black metal, with ambient/experimental artists as well as post-rockers and even the occasional indie rocker calling upon the magick of Burzum from time to time. Despite his failure as a human being, the power of his music is undeniable.

"Belus" is the first black metal album Burzum has released in 14 years. Paroled in 2009 after a 16 year prison sentence for the murder of Mayhem guitarist Øystein Aarseth, Varg immediately took to recording "Belus." To say that anticipation for this album is high would be a bit of an understatement. Given that Burzum's "Det Som Engang Var," "Hvis Lyset Tar Oss," and "Filosofem" enjoy a place in black metal history equal to that of Zeppelin's first four albums in hard rock history, or Sabbath's first five in metal history, the release of Varg's first black metal album following "Filosofem" is something of an event. Not only does it celebrate the return of the genre's dark lord, but it answers the question as to whether or not Varg is still black metal's most important and original voice. Fortunately for all of us, the answer is an unqualified absofuckinglutely yes.

"Belus" doesn't just meet expectations, it blows right through them and takes the "Burzum Buzz" to a whole new beautiful and terrifying place. Beginning with a short experimental introduction, the album damn near picks up right were Varg left off 14 years ago, with his famous guitar motifs and shrieking vocals spilling from the speakers. If there is any real difference between between Burzum of old and Burzum of new it is that the sound is tighter than before, with more complexity. "Glemselens Elv" is a prime example of Burzum's evolved approach. The song has that buzz, but a double track vocal of sung and screamed voices, a tumbling rhythm pattern bouyed by double bass, and a prominent bass guitar all make for a more developed approach than we have heard from Varg before. "Kaimadalthas' Nedstigning" offers another nice progression in the Burzum catalog. The song begins with a brutal sonic assault of guitars and blast beats, before the piece takes a left turn and turns the guitar attack down, drops the blast beats and changes up harsh vocals for unadorned spoken words. The song alternates between the two approaches before building toward a surprisingly melodic emotional finale. It's great stuff, and progressive without skimping on the hypnotic power that is at the core of Burzum's music.

"Sverddans" is another move sideways for Burzum. Owing more to punk and thrash than black metal, the piece chooses to stomp, rather than buzz. The album's final three tracks "Keliohesten," "Morgenrøde," and "Belus' Tilbakekomst (Konklusjon)" are three of Burzum's most hypnotic and powerful songs ever. Each takes the listener on an inward emotional journey. "Morgenrøde" eventually dissolves into simple buzzing guitar motifs that are almost ambient in nature, and which are continued throughout "Belus' Tilbakekomst (Konklusjon)." Such an approach is the logical conclusion to Burzum's atmospheric sound. If what makes Burzum so special is that buzz, then why not strip the songs down to their essence? It is riveting, trance-inducing stuff that has more in common with Sunn 0))) and Pandit Pran Nath than Mayhem.

To his credit, Varg has never incorporated his revolting politics into his music, instead looking to Tolkien and paganism for inspiration. He has gone out of his way to make it clear that "Belus" is not a political album in any way, even going so far as to drop the original title "Den Hvite Guden," which was translated as "The White God," to ensure that no one interpret the album in racialist terms. Instead "Belus" is about an ancient European sun god, his death, journey through the underworld and eventual triumphant return, it is also about the triumphant, and yes, problematic, return of Varg. If he were a second-rate musician it would be easy to simply ignore Varg, but there is nothing second-rate about his music. He is one of the greatest musical talents in the independent music world, and "Belus" is quite simply his masterpiece. It not only stands up to his earlier classics, it bests them in every way. Welcome back Varg, now please try to behave.

Listen to "Belus' Doed"


Listen to "Kaimadalthas' Nedstigning"


Listen to "Morgenrøde"

High On Fire - Snakes For The Divine (Relapse)

What I love most about getting a new High On Fire album is the process of unpacking it. The first album I ever heard by the band was "Blessed Black Wings," and it took me two weeks of straight listening before every single song became the massive monuments of metal that they are to me today. Their music is deceptive. What initially sounds like balls to the wall rock-n-roll, is actually fairly complex, requiring careful attention to the detail. High On Fire is not a band that can be appreciated with a sound sample or even a single dedicated listen.

"Death Is This Communion" wasn't quite as hard to digest, it took about a week before it was my new favorite album. Yet even today, it sounds richer and greater with each listen. So imagine my thrill at "Snakes For The Divine." At first the album appeared to be one of the band's most tangled works to date, meaning, I thought, that it held rewards aplenty to be sought.

But let's back up...High On Fire is the best heavy metal band in existence. Period. They are not doom metal, they are not black metal, they are not thrash metal, they are not glam metal, they are not stoner metal (regardless of their roots), they are not death, southern, prog, whatever...they are motherfucking heavy metal at its finest. Period (again).

As if to prove that point, band leader Mike Pike kicks off "Snakes For the Divine" with a guitar lick that wouldn't sound out of place on an 80's metal album before the band lets it rip at full throttle with their signature Motorhead/thrash attack. As with all great High On Fire there are tempo changes galore, kick ass breakdowns, bridges and lots of chest thumping drums and bass that sounds like an army on the move toward battle. The band doesn't miss a beat with "Frost Hammer," which continues their gallop toward war, and with lyrics about northern warriors it isn't hard to visualize the viking armageddon Ragnarok.

The band slows things down a bit for the sludgy "Bastard Samurai." This is exactly the kind of song that reveals itself through repeated listens. At first the piece came off as filler between testosterone fueled battle cries, but eventually the song develops its own killer presence that chooses to stalk, rather than tear full force, across the field of battle. As with all of the songs before it, "Bastard Samurai" gets an extra boost as a result of Pike's grizzled vocals. For a guy whose voice sounds like he has been smoking and drinking whiskey since he was an infant, Pike offers the perfect dynamic range for High on Fire's music, and his voice has become one of the band's most important instruments. One minute he is snarling, the next he is delivering choppy, rhythmic, almost punk-like, yelps, and often he will bring a song to its spine-tingling climax with a warrior's scream. High On Fire wouldn't be half the band they are without that voice.

The rest of the album ratchets the speed back up for one of the most consistent onslaughts of speed and fury throughout the band's career. In some regards, this approach works against the band, since toward the end of the album the dynamics in tempo that make for so many classic High on Fire songs are missing. "Fire Flood & Plague" is a fucking killer song, no doubt, but it isn't until it reaches a stomping breakdown where Pike begins screaming his vocals and the band pounds away behind him, rather than running roughshod over everything in sight, that the song develops any real personality. The lone exception to this approach is "How Dark We Pray," a midtempo burner that features some classic guitar solo work by Pike, and a killer finale that finds the band chug chugging their way toward the abyss. It isn't the band's best song ever, but it is a nice diversion from the full throttle approach surrounding it.

The bigger problem with the album, though, is that whereas the first half was initially challenging, rewarding the listener with repeat listens, the second half finds the band offering up what is, for the most part, a very straightforward approach. There is nothing wrong with straightforward metal, but the strength of High On Fire is that the complexity and creativity of their song structures offer a richer listening experience than most. When the band forgoes that approach for more basic structures it can sound kind of flat next to their dynamic pieces. It may be that I just need more time with the album's second half, which wouldn't be a surprise given my past experiences with the band's work, or it may be that the band has written some decent, but not perfect High On Fire songs this time around. For whatever reason, in the end "Snakes For The Divine" isn't as ultimately satisfying as either "Blessed Black Wings," or "Death Is This Communion." It is still a damn good metal album, and one that every fan will need, but it just kind of starts to sound bland toward the end, and bland isn't a word that I would have ever used to describe High On Fire before.

Listen to the title track here


Listen to "Frost Hammer" here


Listen to "Fire, Flood & Plague" here

Yellow Swans - Going Places (Type)

The Yellow Swans are dead! Long live the Yellow Swans! For a band that broke up in 2008, the Yellow Swans sure seem to have been busy. They continue to insinuate themselves into the noise and experimental world by producing albums that rewrite the rules with every posthumous release. "Mort Aux Vaches" was one of the best albums released last year, combining transcendent melodic ascensions with cascades of noise. Already this year the band has released a stunning third volume in their live series "Live During War Crimes," and now "Going Places," which purports to be their once and for all final album. Surprisingly, for a band who made a career out of shattering eardrums, they couldn't have crafted a more graceful exit.

Throughout the band's career there has been a continuous progression away from earthshaking noise and toward more nuanced dynamics and texture. The band's breakthrough album "At All Ends," from 2007 was, in many ways, a culmination of the band's work and a schematic for a new way forward, still shaking speakers, but doing so by way of a dynamic arc that was as emotionally beautiful as it was pulverizing. "Going Places" picks up where "At All Ends" left off, but turns the noise down even more. It is still there - the noise - but it is presented in the most subdued manner. If there was a simple phrase to sum up "Going Places," 'subtle noise' would be it.

"Foiled" begins the album with a trip down Kurtz's river. The song sounds as oppressive, humid and hazy as the nightmarish landscape in "Heart of Darkness." A consistent processed guitar pattern plays over a steady percussive beat, while squalls of moist noise flare up throughout the piece. It's dark and dank, but it also bares a striking resemblance to Rob Modell's ""Aloeswood." I mention this not because I think the Yellow Swans were sitting around listening to Deep Chord, although who knows maybe they were, but because it is a stark contrast to the band's noise background.

"Opt Out" continues the watery ways of "Foiled." The song sounds as if the band began recording it at the bottom of the sea. Air bubbles gently percolate until they become a steady stream the band follows toward the surface. Throughout the ascension surface light continues to grow and is reflected in shards of noise that disturb the song's tranquil beginnings. The highlight of the album, though, is "Limited Space," no song better bridges the Yellow Swans sound of old with the more subdued goodbye of "Going Places." The song begins with a distant guitar, some static and a prominent rhythmic bell that is eventually anchored with a steady drum beat. As the song unfolds, rather than simply upping the tension and volume, the band introduces pulsating and cyclical effects that give the impression of continuous movement in a massive amount of space; like the the tide of an ocean, or the sway of a crowd, before ending with an oppressive guitar squall that sounds not unlike an air raid siren during the apocalypse. Even with its menace the song is still restrained for the Yellow Swans. Yeah, it is scary, but it isn't going to shatter your eardrums, which is perfect, because "Limited Space" may be the earphone song of the year, given the numerous textures on display and the depth of space the song invokes.

The album ends with a couple of very subdued numbers "New Life," and the album's titular track. Both songs demand close listens to really appreciate. Like much of the album, these songs could have been blown out into the stratosphere, but the band dials the sound back and lets their music breath quietly, drawing the listener in more so than any of their other releases. What is so unique about this approach is that upon close inspection the Yellow Swans of old is still present. There is so much noise going on beneath the surface that it can be overwhelming and terrifying (in a good way, of course), but a casual listen misses that. Instead a lot of listeners will be thrown by how much more ambient than noise "Going Places" is, and yeah in some regards that is true, but listen closely and it is apparent the band hasn't soften so much as they have traded straightforward audio assaults in for deeply textured experiments in noise that are as emotionally satisfying as they are musically exciting.

In the end "Going Places" is bittersweet. It's a great album, by the best damn noise band that ever existed, but it is also their swan song (I am sure there is some lame play on words that some critic somewhere has made with that phrase given the band's name, but for me this band making their final album is no occasion to make a bad pun). During their career the Yellow Swans swelled hearts as well as melted faces. They proved that noise could be downright beautiful and inspiring. To say that they will be missed is an understatement. Thankfully we have an incredible catalog of music to return to again and again, and "Going Places" is the finale more than worthy of their superb body of work. The Yellow Swans are dead! Long live the Yellow Swans!

Listen to "Going Places" here

Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra - Kollaps Tradixionales (Constellation)

Beginning as a Godspeed You Black Emperor spin-off a decade ago, Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra (whose name has changed with nearly every release, albeit for the words Silver Mt. Zion), long outlasted Godspeed and have produced twice as many records. To the band's credit, although they utilizes the same basic template of chamber rock, each album has sounded unique, bearing its own personality. From the mournful minimalism of "He Has Left Us Alone, But Shafts of Light Sometimes Grace the Corners of Our Rooms" to the bombastic rock-n-roll of "13 Blues For Thirteen Moons," no Silver Mt. Zion album sounds alike. "Kollaps Tradixionales" is the band's sixth album and, unfortunately, the least distinctive of the band's oeuvre.

The album begins promisingly enough with "There Is A Light," a fifteen minute epic waltz that illustrates why Silver Mt. Zion is one of the most powerful bands on earth when they are firing on all cylinders. Combining folk, southern gospel and, of course, crushing agit-rock, the song soars to unbearable heights before smashing itself into bits. Lead singer and guitarist Efrim Menuck has the rare ability to sing rousing laments to idealism that easily rip your heart right out and bring tears to the eyes. This guy would absolutely kill at an Irish wake. "There Is A Light," is a perfect example of Efrim's gift, as he sings about attempting to craft a better world, facing defeat and striving to still believe in hope, even if there may be no reason to. It is gut-wrenching stuff that reaches beyond platitudes and into the most bare human experience of anyone who has ever looked at the injustice and horror of the world and said 'we can do better,' only to watch best intentions go up in flames. It is a sentiment that probably a lot of Americans can relate to these days. What further elevates the song, other than the music, is Efrim's, and by extension our own, complicated relationship with hope. At times he appears ready to abandon it, but then turns around and searches in earnest for its light.

"I Built Myself A Metal Bird" follows and explodes out of the speakers. All the musical subtly and beauty of "There Is A Light" is turned on its head as the band rips through an ugly tale of destruction. The song culminates with Efrim screaming "dance motherfucker," drawing on Charlie Sheen's horrific refrain during the torture of a disabled Vietnamese civilian in the film "Platoon." The fury of the band matches the fury of the lyrics. While folk and gospel may have been the musical inspiration for "Light," "Metal Bird" is pure punk rock, or rather chamber-punk. This is easily the band's most visceral song to date, and it is also one of their very best.

Unfortunately what started off so well slowly starts to stray off course. "I Fed My Metal Bird the Wings Of Other Metal Birds" is for the most part an instrumental reworking of the previous song, but deconstructed to its most basic elements. It is similar in nature to the post-rock drift that these guys and gals have been playing ever since Godspeed, but this time around it really isn't that interesting. There is a languid quality about the song that seems uninspired especially given that the band have just turned in two of their best songs ever.

"Kollapz Tradixional (Thee Old Dirty Flag)" continues the band's slide into mediocrity. It should be noted however that mediocrity for Silver Mt. Zion is usually better than most other band's best work. Part one of a triptych the song finds the band using the melody of "Scarborough Fair" to build a lament upon, and while that sounds like a good idea, the execution just isn't that interesting. "Collapse Tradicional (For Darling)" follows and finds the band continuing its languid approach, but the song is not a loss. Although it is the shortest song on the album at one minute and twenty-eight seconds, it is one of the album's most moving. Based on droning horns and strings, the band elevates the song by singing in unified upper registers. It is fragile, but gorgeous. The final piece in the title track trilogy is "Kollaps Tradicional (Bury 3 Dynamos)" The song finds the band back on solid ground as Efrim's guitar rips holes in the sky while drummer David Payant lays down a tribal march, and violinists Sophie Trudeau and Jessica Moss' strings soar above like a bird of prey. Drawing again on "Scarborough Fair," the song is part sea shanty and part battle march, and entirely awesome.

The album ends with "'Piphany Rambler." The song is a microcosm of the whole, reflective of all the highs and muddled lows of "Kollaps Tradixionales." Starting with more post-rock drift, the song suffers from a nearly narcoleptic beginning. Around the five minute mark the band finally kicks in with a midtempo stomp that brings the waltz begun with "There Is A Light" to a dark and ominous close. Efrim hits on the same lyrical touchstones as "Light," but the band sounds like they are playing at the end of the world, watching all the light being snuffed out forever. Yet even here, Silver Mt. Zion finds a small glimmer by which to lift itself. The song is slowly transformed from a death dirge into one of the most rousing pieces of music in the band's catalog. Trudeau and Moss' violins sound like a soul climbing out of hell as they fight their way above Efrim's bombastic guitar and Payant's bashing. It is an absolutely stunning turn and worthy of Silver Mt. Zion's greatness.

In the end "Kollaps Tradixionales" is an imperfect work full of perfect songs. It begins with some of the band's best work to date, suffers from a soft middle, and returns with a furious end. The album is far from a disappointment, but it it isn't a masterwork either, yet there are certainly elements of both. Even with its inconsistencies, this is an album that I can't help but give a high recommendation. To miss it would be to miss some of the best songs ever by one of the last decade's greatest artists. Just keep that fast-forward button handy for the middle section.

Listen to "Kollaps Tradicional (Bury 3 Dynamos)"


Listen to "I Built Myself A Metal Bird"




Pt. 1 of "There Is A Light" live


Pt. 2 of "There Is A Light" live

Real Estate - Reality (Mexican Summer)

Last year's self-titled debut by Real Estate was loved by many, including here at Skeletons & Candy. Even though it was a late year release, it managed to land on quite a few year-end top 10 list. So the band's new ep "Reality" was received with much anticipation. Unfortunately "Reality" sounds more like a stop gap ep, even though no gap exists yet that would require the band to put out just any old thing.

Comprised of six tracks, "Reality" doesn't really take off until the second half. The first three tracks all bear the band's often charming laid back approach, but aren't developed enough. What made Real Estate's debut so striking was though it sounded effortless, closer inspection revealed it to be a carefully crafted album played by a band dedicated to its execution, even though the members often maintain solo and side projects whose priority may or may not be above their work in Real Estate. The first half of "Reality" sounds effortless alright, but not in a good way. "Basement" comes close to dazzling, but in the end sounds like an slightly above average Yo La Tengo rip-off.

Thankfully, the second half of "Reality" makes up for the lackluster first half. "Saturday Morning" is a nice foray into Ducktails' territory, guitarist Matthew Mondanile's solo project. "Dumb Luck" could have fit in nicely on the band's debut. As with the best Real Estate, the song is a combination of laid back bliss and rousing rock. The real highlight here though is the phenomenal "Younger Than Yesterday," which is one of the band's best songs to date. Eschewing the sun-kissed mellowness that characterizes many of their songs, the band introduces a more rocking, slightly darker vibe here. Hopefully there will be more of this kind of sound in the future.

In the end, "Reality" has some real highlights and some real no lights. "Younger Than Yesterday" and "Dumb Luck" would have made for a 7" to die for, but taken as a whole the ep is little more than filler to be consumed while we await the band to follow up their brilliant debut. If the second half of "Reality" is any indication, it should be another year-end topper.


"Younger Than Yesterday" Live

Richard Skelton - Landings (Type)

Until now Richard Skelton has produced some decent, but problematic, neo-classical works. His previous records as A Broken Consort, as well as those under his own name, were mournful and heartfelt, but they were also somewhat generic. In a field saddled by too much of the same, it was hard to feel overly passionately about Skelton's work. "Landings," on the other hand, is a different story entirely.

Composed over a period of four years, "Landings," is Skelton's most mature and expansive record to date. Mixing strings, acoustic guitar and shimmering drones, Skelton crafts songs that individually astonish, while simultaneously create a massive and flawless whole.

"Landings" begins with the familiar Skelton sound of bowed and plucked strings on "Noon Hill Wood." A circular string pattern plays throughout the piece which is as mournful as anything Skelton has released, but unlike his past efforts there is an added spaciousness and depth to the song that is downright haunting. "Scar Tissue" features a gentle, but no less haunting, acoustic guitar over subtle strings and field recordings of birds. It is a memorable little interlude that harkens to Loren Conners' best work and announces early on that this isn't going to be just another Skelton recording. "Threads Across the River" further emphasis that Skelton is seeking to expand his palette with greater variation. Although string based, "Threads" weaves drone after drone until building itself toward a denouement worthy of Henryk Gorecki or Arvo Part. "Greens Within Brook" follows with a shimmering drone that introduces a bit of color into Skelton's gray-scale canvas. Throughout the albums 12 masterful songs Skelton continues to mix strings, drones and effects in different but equally effective variations.

It isn't just Skelton's willingness to incorporate a variety of arrangements and elements that sets "Landings" apart, there is also a naturalistic feel running throughout the album that further enhances the work. "Landings" invokes a cool dimly-lit wood where fog hovers above dark damp leaf covered soil. That earthiness makes for a rawer sound than similarly situated modern compositions, and adds to the richness of Skelton's work.

It's sort of a shame that this album came out at the end of last year, since technically I can't list it on my year-end list of 2010, because this is by far the best album I have heard in the new year. If you have tried Skelton before and were left underwhelmed, "Landings" will change your mind, and if you have never heard Skelton's work before, this is the place to start.

Immortal

We had some really heavy snow this week, which got me in the mood for "Blizzard Beasts" Immortal, not that I really need an excuse, since these Norwegian gods are my favorite black metal band. Found some awesome live footage from a dvd which apparently is not available in the states, which is criminal to say the least. Enjoy...


"Withstand the Fall of Time"


"One By One"

Spacemen 3

To celebrate the vinyl reissue of "Sound of Confusion," "Perfect Prescription," and "Performance," I present to you some Spacemen 3, for all the fucked up children of the world...

Oneohtrix Point Never - Rifts (No Fun)

Oneohtrix Point Never is the brainchild of electronic artist Daniel Lopatin. Under the guise of OPN Lopatin creates electronic soundscapes heavily inspired by 70s progressive electronic artists ranging from Tangerine Dream and Cluster to horror soundtrack maestros Goblin and John Carpenter. Throughout 2009 OPN released three albums ("Betrayed In The Octagon," "Zones Without People," and "Russian Mind") along with numerous splits, cassettes, and cd-rs. The double disc "Rifts" collects those three albums in their entirety as well as a batch of material from OPN's other releases. Boasting 27 songs, "Rifts" can be a bit overwhelming to consume in one sitting, but not a single one of these songs is superfluous.

On paper, OPN sounds like another cheesy hipster take on retro-futurism, like a less dance oriented Tobacco or Black Moth Super Rainbow. One listen to "Rifts," though, proves Lopatin is going for something much deeper, treating his influences more seriously and clearly with deep respect, rather than simply appropriating them for shits and giggles. Musically "Rifts" has more in common with Aphex Twin's Selected Ambient Works than any retrorewind dance party. This is 70s and 80s inspired music alright, but it is 70s and 80s inspired music that could act as an alternate soundtrack to an Andrei Tarkovsky film.

To review any of the 27 songs here individually seems sort of ridiculous give the breadth and scope of OPN's statement with "Rifts." Some pieces pulsate with synthesizer arpeggios, some are deep cosmic drones, some are menacing horrorscapes, and some are a combination of all three. All of them bear at least a slightly introverted feel, causing a bit of an existential experience in the listener and their relation toward a world permeated by technology; think Dave in "2001," or identity and emotion in the world of "Solaris." Needless to say there is a welcome intellectualism here missing from a lot of other artists who trade in 70s and 80s revivalism. Make no mistake though, there is nothing clinical about "Rifts." If anything Lopatin's humanity power these electronic soundworlds as much as any synthesizer or computer.

"Rifts" represents an incredibly impressive body of work from an artist who seemingly came out of nowhere last year. Indebted to the past, but making music for a terrifying and uncertain future, OPN has quickly become one of the most compelling artists making music today. "Rifts" is absolutely essential.



"Computer Vision"


"Laser to Laser"


"Format & Journey North"

Jute Gyte - Old Ways (Jeshimoth Entertainment)

Jute Gyte (the musical moniker of one Adam Kalmbach) has created one of the most satisfying pieces of outsider black metal in some time with "Old Ways." Combining the sometimes plodding, sometimes epic, structures of Burzum with harsh industrial noise, Jute Gyte sounds both familiar and original at the same time.

"Waves" kicks the album off with a fantastic piece of woozy mid-tempo grim in the tradition of Burzum. What sets Jute Gyte apart very quickly though is his use of electronic effects that add harsh industrial noise to the classic NBM buzz. The song is held together by an oscillating guitar effect that is reminiscent of Johnny Marr's guitar work on the classic Smith's song "How Soon Is Now?" This isn't shoegaze black metal, though, this is raw brutal blackness updated with noise that sometimes pulsates, sometimes crackles and sometimes pummels. "Teeth" most certainly is in the pummels category. One of the album's best pieces, the song begins with a blown out noise assault before slowing things down to mid tempo. What makes "Teeth" so intriguing are the breakdowns that Jute Gyte creates mixing up tempos and rhythms throughout. Kalmbach keeps listeners on their toes, without ever overwhelming or losing them by blasting the noise completely into the red. Regardless how noisy things get one can discern each instrumental element as they work with and against each other. Just when the piece sounds like it might go over a precipice the piece goes silent save for a brooding solo bass before the song lurches back into action with a full-on black metal assault. It all adds up to a devastating listen that at times reminds one of Wold, but this is much more melodic than that band's industrial black metal.

"Round" follows with the closest thing to shoegaze black metal here, but it is still its own beast punctuated by alternating see saw notes on top of what could be a Kevin Shields' experiment in noise if Shields created cold metallic soundscapes instead of warm narcotic hazes. Unfortunately like all Burzum inspired black metal artists there is an all instrumental ambient piece present on "Old Ways," called, appropriately enough, "Interlude." Like nearly all Burzum ambient homages, it is best to just hit the skip button. Thankfully the album finishes out strong with "Peace," another plodding piece of mid tempo blackness, "Snail," which could be an outtake from a Khanate album and the massive "Death." Clocking in at over 15 minutes long, "Death" is an emotionally blistering piece of depressive black metal that manages to alternate between anthematic and fatalistic, beautiful and disturbed. It is here that Jute Gyte's penchant for electronic flourishes pays off in dividends and elevates the song from a typical mid tempo piece of blasted sadness into something that ascends toward something greater and ultimately more meaningful and emotionally satisfying. Justin Broadrick would probably be thrilled to come up with something this powerful and moving for his next Jesu record.

"Old Ways" is an album that deserves to be heard and Adam Kalmbach is a talent to watch. It is a weird and great feat to be able to deliver a sound that is both absolutely classic black metal and as forward thinking as this.

Listen to "Teeth" here