Accordian McShane

Oh Luke Vibert!! Anytime this Cornwall native comes out with anything from one of his monikers, it's an instant must listen for me. He records under his given name, Plug, and Wagon Christ, which has been described as ambient and experimental hip hop, but I tend to think there are funk undertones as well. Plug has been devoted to drum and bass and jungle, and the albums under his own name blend post-techno electronica with dub and minimalist techno.

Toomorrow won't be full of many surprises for seasoned fans of Wagon Christ, yet it's not entirely the same ol'stuff either. Clearly he has a penchant for a particular make of synthesizer and drumming presets and similar rhythms that one may have heard on his prior work, but that is more about style than lack of imagination. What I always enjoy are his entertaining song titles such as "Manalyze This!", "Ain't He Heavy, He's My Brother", "Sentimental Hardcore", and "Lazer Dick." "My Lonely Scene" could be a commentary on how he might be a genre of one compared to what other electronic acts are up to currently, as no one really sounds like him anymore and perhaps he is struggling to stay relevant or he just doesn't care about that anymore and accepts his position in the annals of electronic music. He surprised me with some of the slower numbers on this album, yet the song sequences seem to alternate between mellow ambiance, funk, and quirky glitchy numbers. This kind of A,B,C formula reminds of Crystal Castles (II) with its alternating beautiful numbers against more abrasive structures. As one delves past the 7th or 8th track, the album starts to become somewhat predictable. Despite this, I strongly feel it is still worth a listen and definitely a purchase for a collector of late 90's electronica or for those who do not have any Vibert in their collection.

Listen to Accordian McShane here.


Get your own copy of Wagon Christ's Toomorrow here.

New York City’s The Strokes have been around since 1999, bursting onto the scene in January 2001 with Is This It reaching critical acclaim in the U.K. I admit, I have never been a fan, as I always felt like there was something missing in the hook for me and that they were the kind of band that was deemed compulsory listening. I’ve never been one to jump the bandwagon and the more hype surrounding a band, the longer I will take to even give them a listen.

You can imagine my surprise at Angles. What’s that? Synthesizers? With its slick, polished production, safe enough to be played at Starbucks without offending anyone sound you’d think I’d hate it. Yet it is precisely these factors that intrigue me—the shift in production, turning away from Julian Casablancas doing all of the writing to the entire band exercising the songwriting. This change is palpable as it creates a very cohesive album that flows along seamlessly and not just the same note over and over. Perhaps I’m getting old, but I find that a well-produced album is a good thing and there is always a time and a place for lo-fi. Also, I can’t help enjoying the modicum of controversy surrounding the making of the album: firing of producers resulting in the band producing the album themselves, people not getting along and all the classic studio sessions riff raff. To this I say, “Hmmph! Interesting!”
My featured track, Games, is a catchy, new wavey gem. Angles is a short 34 minutes, mixing soaring melodies, post punk, power pop and synthesizer. It’s an album that needs to be recognized if only for its cultural cache and for the comeback from a five year hiatus to a warm reception.

Listen to Games here.


Buy your own copy of The Strokes Angles here.

Born This Way

C’mon little monsters, put your paws up!!

I may still be suffering from a GAGA hangover from seeing her on the 4th, or it may just be a somewhat uninspiring new releases week, but the featured track this week is “Born This Way.” This might be your time to vomit, navigate away from this web page, or just shrug your shoulders, but pure, unabridged, ridiculous pop music gets the nod from me from time to time. Mainstream Pop is getting a much deserved kick in the cojones from one miss Stefani Germanotta. Sure, she’s pretty much the Madonna for the younger generation, as the song itself unapologetically rips off both form and content from “Express Yourself”, but hey, if Her Madgesty (Madonna) isn’t pissed, then neither am I. Gaga says she was channeling ‘80s Whitney Houston for the vocal stylings and was afraid that she couldn’t pull it off. Whether she does or doesn’t, Elton John names this as the new gay anthem for the decade. So wave your rainbow flags kids, and get behind this song of pride and self-acceptance! Whoo!



Get your own copy of the Born This Way EP here

In the Air 1

This week it's time to get conceptual again. When new albums come my way that are out of the ordinary I feel obliged to turn the spotlight on them. Tim Hecker's Ravedeath, 1972 fits into this category. There are plenty of synth and drone artists that make epic music but one of the unique things about Tim Hecker is his conceptual ability. Each of his records, from the cinematic rush of Harmony in Ultraviolet to the dreamed-up cartography of An Imaginary Country, explores a specific theme, often in great detail. For this album, Hecker says, "I became obsessed with digital garbage...like when the Kazakstan government cracks down on piracy and there's pictures of 10 million DVDs and CDRs being pushed by bulldozers."

That idea, the notion of music as a cheapened, battered object, touches nearly every aspect of Ravedeath, 1972, a dark and often claustrophobic record that is arguably Hecker's finest work to date. The album is based on a single day's worth of recordings in a church in Reykjavik, Iceland, where Hecker used a groaning pipe organ to lay down the foundation for its tracks. (Throughout, you can hear the vastness of this place, as sounds ricochet around, bounce off the rafters.) With help from Iceland-based producer Ben Frost-- whose ominous By the Throat is a touchstone here-- Hecker then finished the record in studio, digitally adding synth wash and wailing shoegaze crunch to his live recordings.

The result is a strange hybrid that lives somewhere between the digital and material realms, and it's remarkable how seamlessly the two are combined. For example, in a track like "In the Fog II", it's difficult to distinguish between the organic church sounds and the processed ones that came after. But while there is harmony between the source material, Ravedeath, 1972 is by no means about prettiness or tranquility. Hecker pits noises against one another in such a way that creates a constant push and pull between discord and beauty.

If you can conceptualize Ravedeath, 1972 as an examination of music threatened by technology, there are pretty clear threads that pop up over the course of the record to support that. For one, it seems that the organ sounds Hecker captured back in that Rejkjavik church represent a certain purity of sound and that the digital noise battering it throughout act as the enemy, the corrosive effect. It's important, then, that the album closes with "In the Air III", a track that features almost no interference whatsoever, just the plinking organ by itself. Perhaps Hecker focuses on the notion that music, in its purest form, survives no matter what you throw at it.

Take a listen to In the Air 1 here.


Get your own copy of Ravedeath, 1972 here.

Space Is Only Noise If You Can See

This week, let's get a little experimental and electronic. Space is Only Noise is the debut album by a 21 year old Brown University student. Nicolas Jaar incorporates lounge pop, African jazz, hip-hop, and sound collage in addition to house and pinches of dubstep. The textures and ingredients of Jaar's music exist in the context of techno-- rhythm and repetition are clearly important to him-- but Space is not dance music. It's too slow, sure, but it's also too diffuse in its methods and results. Pianos, organs, guitar strings, and, most surprisingly, Jaar's voice all fall under Space's sepia-toned veil. This sounds like a lot to take in, but Jaar goes to great lengths to ensure that Space settles lightly. The tracks are short, funny, and always hitched to a melody. He sidesteps impulses-- during the quivering "Almost Fell", for instance, or during "Specters of the Future", during which actual techno threatens-- to drift into full-on ambience, skronk, or extended beat passages.

Space never feels like a showcase for Nicolas Jaar; it's just a modest and well-decorated gathering place for some things he loves, a place for them to interact. This teetering restraint masks the true weirdness of Space Is Only Noise.

Lend your ears to the title track here.


Get your own copy of Nicolas Jaar's Space is Only Noise here.