Album Review: Tweedy- Sukierae (2014)

Tweedy- Sukierae (2014)

Right out the gate, there’s no mistaking this for a Wilco album. Which, considering Jeff Tweedy’s centralised position within the group, is impressive. And secondly, Spencer Tweedy can drum. Jeff Tweedy’s first solo album, featuring his son on drums, is an interesting release from the Wilco frontman. Not for what’s new, but because Tweedy is essentially writing the same types of songs as he has since the formation of Wilco 2.0, though they don’t sound as such here.

Named for his wife (and Spencer’s mother) Sue, who was recently diagnosed with lymphoma, the album is a fine testament to Tweedy’s skills as a lyricist; he never exploits this to win his audience, and the lyrics never address it head on. Unless you were to look it up, you probably wouldn’t know that her treatment inspired the album. What that leaves us is a collection of songs that swing from and occupy the classic rock n roll that Tweedy has made a career of, and the smaller, and usually more potent, quieter songs. In terms of this structure, the album is reminiscent of Wilco’s sprawling statement Being There, which while good, at times felt strangled by it’s own scope; think of a dog with a length of rope tied to its tail- what would happen if the dog kept running in circles?

On Sukierae, however, this doesn’t become an issue. Composed by Jeff and Spencer Tweedy, there’s a sonic cohesion to this album that is largely carried by the younger Tweedy’s percussion skills. The influence of Wilco’s Glenn Kotche is felt subtly here, less in the sound, than in the way the drums function as their own instrument, capable of expressing emotions; there’s something more complex to them than simply a series of timed hits that keep time and the beat. Right from the moment album opener, “Please Don’t Let Me Be So Understood”, it feels like the two Tweedys’ are challenging each other for control of the song. Rather than sounding messy or cluttered, it works. Spencer Tweedy’s curious approach to drumming is the prime factor that separates Sukierae from sounding like a Wilco album.

On the standout track, “Nobody Dies Anymore”, the balance between Jeff’s emotionally wrought and low profile acoustic is matched by the almost hesitant and wistful drumming by Spencer. Considering the name of the song, it seems like the starkest address of the issue that lies at the heart of Sukierae. Despite this, the lyrics still remain ambiguous throughout, with the sparse yet elegantly arranged music carrying most of the potency of the song.

While the first half-and-a-bit of the album progresses easily and enjoyable, the last run of songs seem to exhaust the album’s already formidable running time; the last few acoustic/country songs seem to blend into each other and you feel the pull of the finale long before it’s in sight. While it’s understandable that the Tweedys’ desire to honour their matriarch is admirable and tastefully executed, in these last moments it becomes increasingly narrow, and you get the feeling that you’re watching from a distance while Jeff and Spencer speak in coded language to Sue, saying beautiful things that you’ll never understand, and aren’t mean to.

Despite this, Sukierae is an excellent release from Jeff Tweedy, and perhaps more prominently, heralds the arrival of Spencer Tweedy as a force to be reckoned with. With it’s mostly well structured and paced track list, Sukierae will provide Wilco fans with a lot to sink their teeth into pending the inevitable future release from the group. However, the Tweedys’ willingness to experiment with their sound creates a thoroughly standalone release that still remains accessible; there’s shades of every Wilco release on this album, though ultimately it leaves it’s own distinct impression. As with the best of releases, it takes time for it to fully play out it’s layers; I’m definitely excited to spend more time with this album.

Standout tracks: “Nobody Dies Anymore”, “High As Hello”, “I’ll Sing It”, “Diamond Light Pt. 1”

Retro Review: Wilco- Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)

Retro Review: Wilco- Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)

Everybody who’s ever read a review for this album knows the story behind it so I’m not going to insult everyone with all that. Similarly, anybody who’s even heard this album brought up in conversation knows its either the defining masterpiece of this generation or just a hazy sonic blur masking a couple of decent pop songs. Either way, it’s a talking point that also marks the divorce of Wilco from Wilco, best symbolised by Jay Bennet’s ejection from the band the beginning of ‘Wilco‘ the musical concept.

Regardless of the myth that the album has unintentionally built up around it, which at times seems as high as those iconic towers on the album art, it’s always a real possibility that the music gets left behind; indeed, that photograph is taken from the ground, looking up. Whatever you may hear, this album is more than the hipster/avant garde touchstone that it seems to be.

In simple terms of looking at an album, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is probably the finest piece of music I’ve heard in my lifetime. And I say that from the ground looking up, not in awe, but so as to navigate any of the extraneous bullshit that towers over this album.

While the idea of a soundscape, or a hugely sprawling and almost visual listening experience, isn’t new, and while it would be hard to accept this album in any musical continuum which judges releases based on what has come before, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot nevertheless is original in a true sense of the word that I rarely get to use. Not that it changed music or has created some new tradition, but it’s complex arrangement of typical pop songs married with the ambiguous ambiance created something that is beyond replication; rather, it’s finiteness is what makes it so special, because it was simply the creative event of the individuals involved at the time. It’s distinctly unpretentious.

Jeff Tweedy’s distant and disconnected vocals say everything and nothing: “I am an American aquarium drinker” and “Take off your Band-Aid because I don’t believe in touchdowns” are two Absurdist sentiments from album opener, “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart”, yet rather than playing like an amusing country satire of the Pixies, it feels just right in a way that isn’t explainable. Rarely do songs achieve such genuine emotion without a lyrical guide, with the only seemingly significant words coming at the end of it’s 7 minutes, as the song falls into a sleep of strange ambient noise: “I am trying to break your heart/ but still I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t easy”. While I’d love to sit here with mock-intellectual verbosity and analyse all the things it could mean, it seems simply like a darkly and subtly funny line with as much significance as the words that preceded it; it’s the punchline.

Not to take any credit away from Tweedy’s lyrics; when he sings “I’ve got reservations/about so many things but not about you” on album closer “Reservations”, it is a poignant and potent statement of pure feeling.

The rest of the album continues in a similar vein, creating beautiful and mysterious songs that evoke things in you that feel right in a wrong way. It’s like a painting done perfectly, but with the wrong colours: you know what you’re looking at but not how that is.

Not that the album needs to be elusive to be understood; the smallest moments also inform those of the greatest beauty: “Tall buildings shake/voices escape singing sad sad songs/tuned to chords/strung down your cheeks/bitter melodies turning your orbit around” sings Jeff Tweedy on the hauntingly nostalgic “Jesus, Etc”. A stunning, wistful song about the experience of listening wistfully to a stunning, personally significant song.

The idea that I’m starting to scratch here is that I could quite easily dedicate thousands of words to this review, analysing the songs and explaining everything away, though ultimately on this album, the form is the function. These songs do nothing more than employ what is needed for the songs to sound good. Excesses like genre and cultural or musical tradition are absent in favour of songs which, while complicated, are so deceptively simple and easy to listen to that the only barrier to a listener hearing this for the first time is the expectations and learnt culture that they bring with them.

The two towers on the album art seem massive and insurmoutable, but the person is on the ground; so too are Wilco not looking down or standing on top of them. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is still open to interpretation and seems to bow at the weight of it’s own mythos. But one of it’s greatest triumphs is it’s amplification of small moments of meaning, and how it exists in a moment where when you listen to it, it becomes its own small moment. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is noted as significant for the times that preceded and succeeded it, but ultimately, it’s importance comes from the singular time in which it was, and is.

Standout Tracks: “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart”, “Heavy Metal Drummer”, “Poor Places”, “Jesus, Etc”

Gig Review: Bin Juice @ The Lansdowne 5/10/14

Last night got rolling with an acoustic set by Dave “Skinny” Noble of All My Alien Sex Friends. To say it was good would be to place it on a timeline of value of things I’ve seen before; Skinny launched across the topics of skin cancer awareness, eating bad curry, having to drink f***ing light cream milk and who’s got a bigger dick. Armed with only an acoustic guitar, the result was a cross between Jack Black and The Violent Femmes, with both wishing they could have written songs this catchy. Perhaps what was so endearing about it, and is also the hardest part to explain, was the lack of pretension. At no point did it feel like a consciously tweaked projection of self image. The songs were catchy, candid, funny and well-performed, and it created exactly the sort of easy-going and relaxed mood that means the act succeeded.

Up next were Dr Goddard, who played a spacious and psychedelic type of space opera; my initial comparisons tended to fall towards Pink Floyd and The War On Drugs. Their rich, yet borderline minimalist sound was well realised, and to their credit, it sounded as clean and tight as I would imagine it would on a CD. By now the crowd had begun to expand slightly, and as is the testing point for any support act, I noticed more people were paying attention to the band than to their conversations. The inertia of their songs were punctuated by the drummer, which took the airy and melodic music, and injected it with a forceful pound. The result was a great set of some original and fresh-sounding psychedelic music, performed very aptly by a very interesting group.

After a break for everyone to get another drink and have a few cigarettes, it was time for Bin Juice to take the stage. If anybody has ever seen them before, you might have known what to expect. If not, then I’m going to be struggling to describe it accurately here. Put shortly, Bin Juice are still capable of blowing the roof of the venue whenever they play. Crowd surfing, stage diving, singing into the mic; the crowd took to the mostly new set list with aplomb. The band themselves only seemed tighter than ever, though that might be because its been a while since their last show, or it might be because there didn’t seem to be a song over 4 minutes in the entire set. The shorter songs only accelerated the crowd, as if they knew they only had a limited time to lose their shit. The moshpit of mostly topless and (very) sweaty guys linking arms for each chorus so that they could fly around the dance floor together was as infectious as ever. By the time they reached their closing song, everybody, regardless of where they were, was entranced. Then they played Immigrant Song. Yes, by Led Zeppelin. I’d love to explain every glorious detail of it, but I’m sure you can imagine: unbelievable.

At the end of the night, it felt like the end of every Bin Juice show: you’re sweaty, you’re out of breath, you’re getting a beer at last call and mingling with the rest of the fans. Last night was the same, except as Bin Juice prepare to head out on their first national tour, you get the feeling it won’t be this small for a long time. Show’s like this don’t go unnoticed for too long, and as the band continues to out do themselves, it’s only a matter of time. In the meantime, get your ass down to one of their shows.

Garage Land Feature: Impressions of Impressions Vol. 1

Garage Land Feature: Impressions of Impressions Vol. 1

Thought I’d take a new approach to reviewing some albums; partly because I’m listening to way too much to give each the full, comprehensive review I’d like, and secondly, because it’s nice to try new things.

For each entry, I will be putting down some thoughts and impressions I’ve had after listening to each for anything ranging from a small while to a couple of times through. As always, thanks for reading and comment your own thoughts below. But nicely. YouTube trolls are not welcome (unless hilarious).

The War on Drugs- Lost In The Dream (2014)

Adam Granduciel’s issues with depression and anxiety flow throughout this record so prominently it’s as if the needle on your record player itself was made of some not-so-nice stuff. From opener ‘Under The Pressure’, we are exposed to the expansive musical landscapes of where exactly his mind was during the recording of this album. It’s daunting and hard to gauge; what emerges is an album less concerned with songs, as we recognise them, than with a mental portrait. Granduciel’s influences are all there, though run through a crucible from which none emerge fully intact; with Granduciel’s Bob Dyan-esque whines flitting in and out, Lost In The Dream is a difficult piece to engage with. I can only take a stab here and say it will be rewarding in the long run, but at the moment, I’d save this one for a rainy night when it can occupy your attention. The songs don’t really lend themselves to any other type of listening. As with most things, this is equal parts good and bad.

Is It Worth Listening To: As one of 2014’s most highly regarded releases, yes. As something to enjoy? The jury’s still out.

Shellac- Dude Incredible (2014)

I’ve always been familiar with Steve Albini, albeit more his production contributions that his musical pursuits. I’ve very briefly been exposed to Shellac before, so I picked this one up without many expectations or pre-conceptions. I’ve listened to it all the way through twice now, and I feel I can say that it’s totally awesome. From the lopsided and hard grin of the self-titled opener, it adds a fresh and essential new entry to the canon of “post-hardcore/punk/somethingorother”. ‘Riding Bikes’ is really the must-hear track though, both for it’s own merits and as an indicator of the album’s sound. Patient, menacing and brooding, before all hell breaks loose- except instead of the usual guns-blazing manner, it’s quiter and infinitely more effective. From Albini’s drowned out wails to the stop-start of the instrumentation, it’s a fine moment in an already prestigious musical career. If you’ve ever heard In Utero, Surfer Rosa or especially the Jesus Lizard, you owe it to yourself to check this out. Easily one of the best albums this year.

Is It Worth Listening To: Definitely. Albini takes abrasive noise rock and lends it a voice that you can follow. Highly recommended.

Cloud Nothings- Here And Nowhere Else (2014)

I gave Cloud Nothings my first try after reading some rave reviews for their latest, Here And Nowhere Else, though I have to say the final result was somewhat disappointing. While the album functions well, and presents some clarity to it’s well worn “hardcore” standing, I was left wanting more. The vocals aren’t as drowned out as they want to be, but the words were still murky and, in my opinion, unremarkable: “I go outside and see all these things that should be real”. Though by no means is it a bad album, it’s simply not anything I haven’t heard before, either directly (Pinkerton) or by proxy (Black Flag). I wouldn’t even call it mediocre, as its still well above some of the crap I hear, but there’s still a long way for this band to go in terms of pulling together something more original before they’ll warrant the attention they’re receiving.

Is It Worth Listening To: If you’re bored of your iTunes library and want to hear something new, then you could do a lot worse than this. If you’re listening to stuff you really love, maybe keep this one in the “maybe” pile.

Foxes in Fiction- Swung From The Branches (2010)

Warren Hildebrand is a guy I’d love to have a few drinks with and pick his brain. I decided to check out Foxes in Fiction’s previous release before listening to their new one, to acclimatise myself to what I read was a fairly different sound. The phrases “bedroom pop” and “dream pop” appealed to me, though didn’t really prepare me at all for the album itself. Swung From The Branches opens with a series of songs (if that’s what you’d call them) that play like a score from a film. No discernible song structure, more like an artwork done in incredibly broad strokes; it’s less of an image than an idea of an image. If that’s confusing, that’s because it is. The album does open up however, though very slightly. It let’s up after around 7 or 8 tracks and while any traditional songs are still not present, you begin to understand it, just a little better. If all of this sounds incredibly vague and ambiguous, then I’ve explained it pretty well. Despite the lack of any sort of value judgement, my personal opinion is that it’s a very interesting listening experience. While it’s definitely not for everyone, it’s less ambient than an active soundtrack to your own life. Walking to the train station or waiting for a bus, the music feeds into your mood and alters it in accordance with what it’s trying to express.

It’s strange, it’s far away yet immediate, and above all, it’s original.

Is It Worth Listening To: While all articles of this nature are subjective, this one is even more so than usual. If you’re open to some different interpretations of music and what is can involve, this is a good place to visit.

Mikal Cronin- Mcii (2013)

I’ll come right out and say it: I fucking loved this album. Still do. It’s one of the singular instances I’ve had of putting on an album, and being totally infatuated with it before the first chorus even hits. Ty Segall’s frequent collaborator and touring bassist has created a piece of music that stands proudly and very far from the fuzz-driven haze that he’s become known for. Mcii is an incredibly personal album, though with the very best of that tradition, its highly open and very relatable to young adults. Fear of the future, growing up, how to commit and how to adapt to those changes inform Cronin’s very passionate and mature consideration of issues we’ve all faced, or will face. That’s a lot on just the themes of this album.

The music? Holy Santa Claus shit. It’s beautiful. I’d use the term “power pop” but I hate the connotations it invokes. Cronin notes that he learnt the power of a distortion pedal from Segall, and the way he uses it here- sparingly, forcefully- elevates the already stellar arrangement and song writing to a higher level. When that power hits in the chorus, you feel it. With some super catchy riffs, and some absolutely great pop songs, Cronin comes into his own artistic sphere where he succeeds so wonderfully at realising his own vision, and just how good he is at what he does. I could say so much more but ultimately I would just urge you to listen to it. It’s accessible and pleasant, and there’s a lot to love.

Is It Worth Listening To: Yes. (duuhhhhhh)

Tame Impala and the Psychedelia of Percussion

 

Tame Impala and the Psychedelia of Percussion

I’m listening to “Runway, Houses, City, Clouds” for the first time. It opens slowly, methodically, before roaring out of the tunnel and into the sunlight in a burst of synth. It carries on until the chorus, which is a release, and characterised by the urgent staccato bang-bang-bang of the drums. It moves onto the next movement, which is similar but larger, as if we’re seeing more of the picture. This continues again, until the final chorus lands with such power and momentum that I have to sit down and really start listening. The song is atmospheric, stratospheric and all about movement. I look up lyrics and realise it’s about flying and transit: “It’s true that some things have to change” is crooned through the chorus, almost hauntingly, and you begin to direct your thoughts inwards. It’s a masterful moment from a masterful musician. Kevin Parker, for all his humility, can make music this immediate and forceful not once, but multiple times across two albums. So much of this is down to the drums and the percussion.

As the man who writes and records almost every Tame Impala song on his own, Kevin Parker takes after the musical virtuosity of greats like Jay Mascis, yet one could be mistaken for not hearing this immediately. Tame Impala songs are considered and carefully measured. They receive critical acclaim for updating psychedelic music into the modern era. Indeed, nothing else sounds quite like it.

The difference is the drums.

It took a while for it to click, but as they say, once you hear it, you can’t un-hear it. Tame Impala songs are dominated by their drum track, it’s the X-factor, if you will. Lot’s of other bands have the same instruments, in fact, basically all of them have a guitarist and a drummer (get out of here, Royal Blood). Almost just as many have a bass player, and a worthy amount have synth/keyboard/piano. So what makes Kevin Parker’s songs sound the way they do? The drums and percussion, and more specifically, his approach to them.

Beyond the production and mixing of them, the simple configuration and arrangement of the percussion makes them worthwhile. While he makes exceedingly melodic sounds, he skews this with the constant staccato beat of the drums, the constant but gentle penetration through the movement of the song. It’s less about the flow, or the force, but the flow of that force and how it impacts the song. It sounds intrusive, and almost crude, but that’s where the mixing comes in. It’s why you hear the distinct Tame Impala drum sound, and not a guy randomly bashing the snare and kick during an otherwise great song. Think about some of the noteworthy Tame Impala songs: “Solitude Is Bliss”, “Be Above It”, “Apocalypse Dreams” and especially “Elephant”. When you hear that loud and muted ‘thump-thump-thump-THUMP’ you’ll realise that it offsets the melody and skews the traditionally acid-washed haze of most psychedelia. The reliance on the rhythm section, while not unheard of, is nevertheless done in a way that leads to an original sound. There’s certainly a lot more going on in these songs that I can cover here, but as some food for thought, I found it super interesting.

Garage Land Feature: Some Australian Bands You Deserve To Hear

Some Australian Bands You Deserve To Hear

Depending on who you talk to, the Australian music scene is either resoundingly silent in quality and releases, or oversaturated to the point of white noise. Maybe it depends on who your friends are, what they’re listening to, and which radio station you’ve got it tuned to. Either way, it’s hard to deny that there is a tidal wave of releases coming out of Australia at the moment, across so many genres that it makes it hard to find the genuinely interesting releases.

Especially on the rise is underground rock (yes I release the irony of that sentence). With Violent Soho and ‘Covered in Chrome’, their ubiquitous ode to moshing with a righteous and loud chorus while screaming “Hell fuck yeah!”, it seems reminiscent of a highly localised case of The Day Punk Broke, take two. Instead of Nevermind, it’s Hungry Ghost, and now every kid with repressed anything is itching to pick up an instrument and join the angry march into the capital. With the eventual proliferation of guitar music, it’s worth singling out a few of the special groups who are rising above the rapidly growing pile of (crap) cliches, and playing some good music.

Also, these are clearly bands that match my tastes, so please don’t consider it an exclusive or authoritative collection. If you feel outraged I missed anyone, please let me know, I’d love to check them out.

Tame Impala

Let’s start this off with a basic one: if you don’t listen to Tame Impala, and haven’t been living in an igloo kissing people with your nose for the last few years, then you have some serious steps to take in correcting your life. While they’ve been critically acclaimed all over the world, and represent a critical high point for an Australian group, as always, it’s easy to get lost in the hype and hear that instead of the actual music. Not to say that it’s incapable to genuinely just dislike the music, but I’ve found that the more time I devote to Tame Impala, the more I appreciate them. Between Innerspeaker (2010) and Lonerism (2012), there’s a lot to sink your teeth into. I’ve got a bit more to say about them in an upcoming post, so I won’t go into it too much, but I will say that the first time I heard “Apocalypse Dreams” remains one of the most transgressive and memorable moments in my whole time of listening to music.

 

Standout tracks: ‘Runway, Houses, City, Clouds’, ‘Apocalypse Dreams’, ‘Why Won’t They Talk To Me?’

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard

Here’s a group that is quickly on its way to earning to the title of “Most Prolific Band Ever”. As we all know, however, the speed of release is pointless if the quality isn’t up to scratch. That’s why it’s all the more impressive that King Gizz are on their way to releasing albums five and six, with their first LP, 12 Bar Bruise only being released in 2012.

And if this would normally be the paragraph where I describe their music to you in the hopes that some might be interested to YouTube them or something, think again. With the focus of a maid dusting all those little niches and corners, King Gizz are playing as fast and loose with genres as they are with release dates. With important influences like the garage-rock greats (Sonic Youth, Ty Segall, Dinosaur Jr) combined with an individual psychedelic weirdness, King Gizzard are quickly on the rise, and have safely joined the pantheon on Aussie psychedelic greats like Tame Impala and Pond; if Tame Impala are the older and studious older brother, and Pond was the guy you liked getting fucked up with, then King Gizzard would be the zany and kooky drug dealer who lives down the road. And I mean that in only the nicest, most complimentary kind of way. Listen to “Head On/Pill”. You’ll see what I mean.

Standout tracks: ‘Head On/Pill’, ‘High Hopes Low’, ‘God Is Calling Me Back Home’, ‘Float Along-Fill Your Lungs’

DMA’s

And now for something different. With only a single, 5-track EP out earlier this year, DMA’s are already making a lot of noise around the Australian music scene, with the story of their rise already seeping into myth and urban legend; it seems like everyone I meet who’s heard their single “Delete” wants to tell me how insane it is: how they had only played two or three shows before their national tour, how they have a stash of 100 unrecorded songs, how they got signed to I Oh You on these credentials after only a handful of demo’s in an apartment. While other bands might be overshadowed or enslaved to this hype, DMA’s step through it effortlessly, in the most sensible type of way: by making really good music. Being compared to Oasis, and with a sound I’d like to call AusBritPop (you heard it here first), DMA’s first self-titled EP delivered five radio-ready songs designed to make alternative music popular again.

Meeting the media with their striped-Adidas attire, speed-dealers and Instragram accounts dedicated to ibis’, their signing to taste-maker label I Oh You signals this as a band to keep an eye on. With a blistering live set, unique image (graffiti in Good God Small Club’s bathroom stated “DMA’s are not lads”) and highly infectious music, DMA’s could be the band to watch in the future, if only they would start releasing more music.

Standout tracks: ‘Feels Like 37’, ‘Play It Out’, ‘Delete’

Violent Soho

I have a feeling that people are going to take issue with this entry. After all, I just spoke of their ubiquitous single in my introduction. However, as is the case with such a phenomenon, the rest of the band’s work falls by the wayside. Which is entirely bullshit, because Hungry Ghost is the best Australian album I’ve heard since You Am I’s Hi Fi Way. From the unbearably heavy opener “Dope Calypso” to the understated, underrated and devastatingly effective closer “Hungry Ghost”, Violent Soho stepped up from their under-appreciated self-titled release, and really let loose. And while it seemed like it would involve going bigger and louder, Hungry Ghost shined the most in the quieter moments, with tracks like “OK Cathedral”, “Fur Eyes” and “Saramona Said” proving that there was more than met the eye.

Which is my point. We’ve heard “Covered in Chrome” so many times that they’ll be playing it instead of the national anthem at sporting events pretty soon, but to align Violent Soho solely with the power chord driven hammer of that song would be to discount the far more interesting work that they’ve done. And while they shine in those moments, they still manage to satisfy the moshpit with set lists that balance this mix deftly, and I wouldn’t hesitate to say Violent Soho are the best live band in Australia. When I left the Manning Bar after their show a few weeks ago, I was sweaty, bloody, missing my shirt and wallet, and feeling so battered I vomited when I got home. It was the best show I’ve seen in my life.

Standout tracks: Hungry Ghost– the whole album. Seriously.

 

Adalita

Unlike the previous entries on this list, Adalita isn’t a new artist or new arrival on the scene: it’s the opposite. Adalita, of Magic Dirt fame, is a matriarch of Australian music. In fact, it’s hard not to spend this whole entry telling you to go out and listen to Magic Dirt, because it’s what the good sort of people do. But Magic Dirt seem to have come and gone, with the band declaring themselves on “indefinite hiatus” since the death of Dean Turner, a founding member of the band (and for ten bonus points, he used to manage Violent Soho).

And front-woman and guitarist Adalita could have packed up, called it a day, and still gone down as one of the greats. But obviously she didn’t and here we are: with two fantastic solo albums, a new and more individual sound, and the tradition of high involvement personal live shows.

Her most recent release, All Day Venus (no points for making that joke), was a deserving follow up to her first album, which in itself was unusual for an artist who had spent the majority of her career in the structure of a band. Instead, it feels like a personal imprint of her thoughts and emotions, without the baggage of an overly serious tone. Same for All Day Venus, which is a break-up album that made me laugh out loud a few times, either through her word play or complete

‘Fuck you!” message. I still think the album cover should have been a raised middle-finger; whereas female artists who have recorded break-up albums are unfairly grouped with the Taylor Swift melodramatic neurosis, All Day Venus was equal parts hurt and anger, emotion and thought, looking back and moving forward, with a refreshing lack of sap. So while you’re listening to all the great new bands and artists coming out and around the local scene, don’t forget that they come from a history. With Adalita continuing to make music of this quality, she’s only lifting the bar higher for bands looking to join that history. So long, Australian Idol winners.

Standout tracks: ‘He Wrote’, ‘Blue Sky’, ‘Hot Air’

 

Sticky Fingers

Simply put, Sticky Fingers are one of Australia’s funnest bands. And I know that’s not a word.

With their sophomore release, Land of Pleasure, only a few weeks old at this point, it’s safe to say that we can only expect great things to come from an already very successful band. Their debut, 2013’s Caress Your Soul, was a modern and seemingly effortless reggae/ska update which was all about the small moments. The prolific “Australia Street” speaks to how well this caught on, with it becoming the group’s most popular song. It took something familiar, and made it interesting, which is the best praise you can give a genre album. Land of Pleasure is a steep departure from this sound, and while it certainly does falter under the pressure of its ambition, it works better than it should, given that it ultimately sounds like Sticky Fingers making a dance record, or a stoned-summer soundtrack. You’ve probably heard “Gold Snafu”. Either way, it reveals a band that isn’t content to stand still, and if they can keep this momentum up in the future, they’re looking to make some promising sounds.

Standout tracks: ‘How To Fly’, ‘Bootleg Rascal’, ‘Laika’, ‘Gold Snafu’

Honourable Mentions

Hey Geronimo

I was torn for a while about switching Sticky Fingers out for Hey Geronimo. The only thing that stopped me was Sticky Finger’s larger discography. And while Hey Geronimo’s debut album is just around the corner, for the moment all we have are their two EPs: Hey Geronimo and Erring on the Side of Awesome. To be fair, these are great releases. Hey Geronimo put the fun back in pop music, more interested in people dancing at their shows than moshing, and a small but incredibly tight catalogue of infuriatingly catchy surf-pop gold. If you’re a regular on Triple J, you’ve probably already heard them. Either way, this group come highly recommended

Standout tracks: Co-op Bookshop, Girl Who Likes Me, Dreamboat Jack

Bin Juice

Having seen them play in Sydney four times this year, and having their debut album, Furious George, in my car for so many months, I feel safe in saying Bin Juice are a great band, with great music, who are on the rise. I’d recommend the next time you see the posters adorning Sydney before an upcoming gig, you should spend the $10 on a ticket, bring some friends, have some drinks, and be prepared to have a great time to some deep funk vibes. Plus you’ll have a new and unheard of band to show your friends, which proves your taste in music is the best. And we all like being the best, so check them out.

Standout tracks: Stella, Super Fantastic Adventure, Do Not Run

Album Review: Ty Segall- Manipulator (2014)

Ty Segall- Manipulator (2014) Review

Too often projects are crippled by hype. Whether it’s a film, an album or a novel, people become too excited and what might have normally been a perfectly fine and good release becomes crucified because it couldn’t live up to every expectation people had, and then fix their oven.

So it’s refreshing when something comes out and weathers the potential storm with nothing more complicated than simply being good at what it is. Ty Segall’s newest release, Manipulator, is such an album. Segall’s 7^th solo release (amidst a labyrinth of side projects and other works) is his most consistently strong album, bringing home all of his previous work and tying (ha!) it all together with aplomb.

Perhaps the most immediately noticeable change is the presence of acoustic guitar on most of the songs. Rather than the exclusive and introspective Sleeper (2013), however, it’s incorporated into Manipulator seamlessly, lending Segall’s existing sound a more considered and interesting flavour; it’s reminiscent of a sunny and pleasant Autumn day, as opposed to the “cruising around the boardwalk, music blaring, intimidating old ladies” fury of 2012’s Twins and/or Slaughterhouse. Manipulator still has its moments of sound and fury, including “Feel”, which culminates in what might be Segall’s loudest, most viscerally satisfying moment ever, however, Manipulator is more notable not for what is familiar, but rather for what isn’t. The 14 months that Segall took to write and record it are evident to anyone who has heard any of his previous releases; hearing it alongside Melted (2010), it’s hard to imagine such rapid progress in four years. Each song is meticulously arranged, and produced clearly and crisply, while also retaining the skanky-fuzz that is Segall’s trademark sound.

It’s also worth mentioning how dense Manipulator is; despite it’s 55 minute runtime and 17 tracks, it is absolutely packed with ideas and thoughts, though presented in a more polished form than is typical of Segall. The result is an album that features a steady tracklist of great pop songs. While “Susie Thumb” is a good choice for a single, really, it could have been any of the 17 songs. This isn’t meant as an insult; rather, Segall’s typically eccentric style of composing a tracklist has levelled out and there’s a feel of coherence to the progression of songs. It sounds like the album you should have in your car this summer, from the opening organ curiosity of title track “Manipulator”, to the smoky coolness of “Green Belly”, right up until the sweet smirk of the album closer, “Stick Around”.

While that’s all well and good, the only thing missing from Manipulator are the spontaneous high’s that characterised his past releases, the standout songs from each album. While the album is undeniably strong as a whole, it lacks the punch of that single song that Ty Segall fans are familiar with from each of his previous releases; the lack of a “You’re The Doctor”, “I Bought My Eyes”, “Finger” or “Goodbye Bread” might leave some fans with a strange feeling of hollow satisfaction from the album, though I found that enjoying Manipulator as a consolidated album rather than a mere collection of songs was a nice change. As a way of tying together his output up to this point, Segall certainly covered his bases; as said above, you can feel touches of everything that Segall has released so far on Manipulator, though not to an overwhelming degree.

Which leads to the only real drawback of the album. While it leaves me interested in what’s to come for the San Francisco garage-guru, the double-length and consistency in the songs don’t lend that interest the same sense of urgency that I felt while waiting for Manipulator. By giving us such a sustained and concentrated effort, it seems to leave Segall trapped between recording styles: the previous proliferation that we’ve been familiar with, or the more considered approach that he took with this album. Now that he’s given personality and character to each of those recording methods, it feels like there’s little else for him to do. While I’m more than happy to be proven wrong, it seems like Manipulator is the full stop to Ty Segall’s career-spanning momentum, rather than the exclamation mark it seemed like it would be. Regardless, there’s still too much on this album to love for me to be too worried.

Standout tracks: Manipulator, Feel, The Hand, Stick Around

Gig Review: King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard @ Good God Small Club 22/08/14

Photo by Matt Viesis

Gig Review: King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard @ Good God Small Club 22/08/14

King Gizzard at Good God Small Club on a Friday night seems like a surefire success, and to a large extent it was; however, it only made the small disappointments all the more disappointing. However, let’s not forget the most important thing: King Gizzard rocked. Playing what seemed like most of their upcoming and unreleased album, they took a risk that payed off; the crowd were predictably insane, which made the choice of an unfamiliar set-list all the more impressive. However, talking to other people in the crowd, everybody was still excited to hear the ‘classics’, namely, “Head On/Pill”, which was a phrase that floated through the audience all night.

Unfortunately, a blown fuse after 3 or 4 songs, and a lengthy, 20 minute gap in the middle of the set stalled the significant amount of momentum that King Gizzard had amassed with their new material, including the fantastic and epic opener, which stretched to around 10 minutes. It was an unlucky stall, made all the more frustrating by the band’s similar sentiments, and the lack of any Good God stage staff for at least 5 minutes. However, after the setback, King Gizzard came back and used the crowd’s feverish excitement to send the show roaring along, where they pushed through most of their new material, and closed with favourite “Hot Wax”. The show ended on an undeniable high, though the missing songs left me wondering if it wasn’t a bittersweet example of a band on top of their game, because really, I only wanted to see more. After playing the only familiar song of the set, and having a borderline frothing crowd, they unceremoniously cleared the stage, amidst chants of “One more song!”, while the security staff stood on the stage trying to settle everyone.

While it would be unfair to King Gizzard to say they were anything but fantastic, the show felt half-baked, and it was through no fault of their own. It was simply an unlucky night for the band and their fans.

Garageland Interviews: Hey Geronimo Are Erring On The Side of Awesome

It’s been a while since this interview and I realise that it won’t be relevant in a while, so here’s my interview with Hey Geronimo from a few weeks back. These guys are super talented and pretty cool to boot, and any attempts on your behalf to think otherwise are silly. Now that’s journalism!

Photo by Dylan Evans

Who would be your favourite band to tour with?

Hypothetically? Tony’s other band, The Boat People. Cos then there’d be two Tonys and we could make them fight each-other. Also they’re really really good.

What’s each member’s favourite Aussie band/album, and why?

Pete: ‘Granddance by Dappled Cities. Such an amazing vibe. When making a record there are obviously lots of little decisions you make along the way that will affect how the piece ultimately comes together. For me it feels like Dappled Cities made all the right calls with this one. Just feels really genuine!’

Tony: ‘Drowning In The Fountain Of Youth’ by Dan Kelly and the Alpha Males. Dan Kelly is one of the best lyricists going around, and his melodies are great too. We’re big fans.’

Bill: ‘Lonerism by Tame Impala. So many bands try and do the 60’s psych vibe and end up sounding like a wax museum. Kevin Parker, on the other hand, takes some of the best elements of 60’s music and injects a whole lot of modern malaise and personality into his music. It never sounds like a pastiche. I loved their first album too but Lonerism was a massive step up. Can’t wait for their next album.’

Ross: ‘Outlands by Deep Sea Arcade. Wistful melodies, set over some of the coolest hooks ever. Pop music to get obsessed about, if you love classic songwriting.’

You guys toured India fairly recently. Can you tell us about that tour and the experiences involved?

It was a bit of a whirlwind really. Wildly veering across every possible emotion. The low point was realising our keyboard (which we’d borrowed) got smashed up on the flight. Which was almost entirely our fault. The high point, for me anyway, was jamming in a recording studio with some local musicians. Indian classical musicians are ridiculously skilled. We played at the NH7 Weekender festival and some side shows, drove around the chaotic streets from city to city, and ate a lot of delicious curry. Unfortunately there wasn’t too much time for sightseeing but I’m sure we’ll be back again one day.

How do you feel about the local music scene in Brisbane, and Australia at large, both through your experiences as a band, and members of the audience?

The local music scene is pretty vibrant. Pete and I go to a place called Trainspotters in the city every Saturday night to drink beer and watch bands. We get along well with the other Brisbane bands we’ve played with. One of the good things about being in a smaller pond, so to speak, is that you end up playing with and watching bands who sound nothing like you, so there’s a lot of artistic freedom and cross-pollination. The relative isolation of the music scene, and Brisbane and Perth are microcosms of Australia in that respect, in that it gives a chance for unique music to develop without being too homogenised.

You’ve got your debut album currently in the works, what can you tell us about it?

We’ve been trying as hard as possible to keep everything upbeat and entertaining, because if left to our own devices we’d probably all be writing depressing folk songs. We’ve put a lot of effort into our lyrics on the new songs, because every song has to mean something to us and to everyone else. It’s going to be an album of upbeat indie songs about the end of the world.

Do you feel a certain pressure attached to a first album, as opposed to releasing EP’s?

Definitely. The album is still the most important thing a band can do. It has to sound good in 5 years, 10 years time. And then you have to make your second one better!

What’s been your favourite part of playing together so far?

I don’t think anything beats total strangers singing along to your songs at a show.

Album Review: White Fence- For The Recently Found Innocent (2014)

White Fence- For The Recently Found Innocent (2014) Review

There was a bit of confusion when I initially listened to Tim Presley’s (White Fence) newest release. I couldn’t make up my mind what the album’s influences were, whether it was original or derivative, or whether I liked it or not. Most of all, I couldn’t tell if it was a good album or bad album.

It begins with a run of almost unbearably poppy songs, which at first listen are so sweet that they hurt. That is, until you listen to their lyrics. It’s amusing that Presley has decided to inject some (much-needed) darkness into these songs, and the result are some truly memorable 1960s nostalgia psychedelic pop songs. “Like That” and “Sandra (When The Earth Dies)” are two early highlights on the album, with the latter sounding like a twisted outtake from The White Album, by the Beatles, complete with carnival organs. Indeed, that was most obvious influence I heard when I first heard For The Recently Found Innocent, which is where the album enters into derivative territory. However, these songs are so densely packed with their influences that they maintain the energy, momentum and fun that characterises Presley’s previous releases.

And it would be a huge disservice to Ty Segall not to commend his production of the album; whereas Presley’s previous releases were recorded on a four track in his bedroom, for this release he was relocated to Segall’s garage, with the results of the change being apparent on the final product: the songs sound fuller, while maintaining that dog-who-lives-on-the-corner-of-your-street-that-everybody-loves scrappiness.

As the album moves on though, there are a few misfires. The attempts to ditch the zany psychedelia for the garage rock, while not entirely unsuccessful, don’t work with the overall pacing of the album; on a conceptual level, perhaps they do, as the album presents distress, fear and loathing as prominent themes, but in execution, the faster and louder songs seem to jar with the rest of the album. Not that each song isn’t well-crafted or written, but some would have been better off being left behind, with “The Light” being the most notable offender. Meanwhile, “Paranoid Bait”, the album closer, is a better example of how to compromise between both styles.

That being said, there are a lot of bright moments on For The Recently Found Innocent, with Presley putting forward some of his best work. “Raven On White Cadillac” is a love letter to the rock gods of the 60s and 70s, and it feels like a bit of Skynard, of Zeppelin and of the Beatles, without ever committing too much to either. It’s a fresh and well executed effort that goes a long way to solidifying Presley’s place at the top of the revivalist circuit. This is saying a lot, because it’s an oversaturated area in its own right.

While revivalist is where most people would place White Fence, and especially this album, I feel like the connotations, apart from being negative, are too definitive. For The Recently Found Innocent is less an attempt to re-capture an era, than it is Presley’s imagining of a different time, of a hazy technicolour landscape tinged with longing and romance, and perhaps a bit of fear. It would certainly explain the weird (“Wolf Gets Red Faced” is about an alcoholic werewolf) and the emotional: “Goodbye Law”, a standout acoustic track. The only problem here is that it’s an entirely subjective portrait.

When I said I didn’t know if this was a good or bad album after first hearing it, I can only say that I’ve decided, with no certainty, that it leans towards good. It’s certainly not as good as Presley’s previous collaboration with Segall, 2012’s Hair. With its sometimes stifling recreation of the 60s combined with its occasional pacing issues, For The Recently Found Innocent is an album that will depend on what you enjoy in your music. Originality, and attempts towards it, or a shameless homage (and attempt to re-capture) history? For both camps, there’ll be things to appreciate about For The Recently Found Innocent, and elements that just don’t work. Is this is a good or a bad album? I would say it’s a good album, but in truth, I still don’t fully know.

Standout tracks: “Sandra (When The Earth Dies)”, “Goodbye Law”, “Raven On White Cadillac”, “Fear”