popwreckoning

At just over an hour and ten minutes long, the only way I’m going to get through this review is by keeping it as summarized as possible. Short story: Field Music‘s Field Music (Measure) double album sounds like Of Montreal mashed with Herman’s Hermits, minus the druggy trip, and dragged through the BBC in 1966. Twenty songs long, Field Music (Measure) isn’t necessarily in flux, but it does carry enough variance to keep you interested all the way to the purely-for-delicate-noise instrumental exit, “It’s About Time”—what a fitting title.

And for such a double album released from a band composed solely of two brothers (David and Peter Brewis hold it together; Andrew Moore didn’t return for this reprise, and just recently have they committed to full-time replacements) and after each brother’s side project took them away from Field Music focus, it’s a completion of artistry done with smarts. They’re known for a pop-like sort of mellow, with former albums sounding a bit more jangly (Tones of Town more so than the sweeping self-titled debut).

“Them That Do Nothing” is the first single I ended up paying attention to, since “Measure” was released as a teaser back in October (but I was off concentrating on neon chucks or something). It’s shocking that I did miss the preview, but I’m glad I did, because I would have been way more stoked than I am now. The album is good—it’s still intelligent and well-paced in pop, signature vocals, and the free form of past folky love reminiscent of Lindsay Buckingham—but “Measure” has a brilliant string opening that leads to a catchy plucking that evokes banjo breakdown. “Let’s Write a Book” is romantic in staccato lyrics, diggy bass hooks, off-the-cuff xylophone, and some haunting synth. I reformat what I said in the beginning—this can be a druggy trip of a listen, but not in a modern hit, think back to the vinyl and eight track days (or remember your parents talking about it), and that’s more what you’ll get. Read: Led Zeppelin.

If you at all are a fan of mid-60s era Beatles, or trancy-but-groovy synth pop, HAL or Royal Wood, Bishop Allen, or just really dug that “You Don’t Send Me” Belle and Sebastien song, this will put a smile on your face the whole play through. A notable grit does pop up, boosting the original sound of Field Music, but they remain hook-repetitive. Apparently when you’ve got a good base, you just keep going until someone breaks out with an improv lead. A tight album wrapping “Share The Words” will definitely be the next single, and if it isn’t, you should at least groove to it once a day. In fact, any song that uses the lyrics “I’m hot for myself” paired with loose guitars and a backing off-tempo set should always make it onto playlists everywhere. “Effortlessly” keeps the repetitive theme, but carries it beyond what’s more than welcome—watch out for those. There are only a few tracks that goes off course, but when they do, it’s a rush to hit the >>| button.

I still maintain that 2009, besides being a crap year financially and personally, should have not focused so much on which albums were better than others, but on what kind of crazy collaborations the greater indie genre saw (think Discovery, Karen O. and The Kids, etc.). The announced project that came out of the meshed minds of Danger Mouse and James Mercer in September, Broken Bells, would hold its own in that list with the their blippy, bloopy, but otherwise sophisticated (thank you Mercer vocals) smooth starter debut single in December: “The High Road.” It promised a serious balance of The Shins and electronic to symphonic elements with the edge of a producer who has given a proper noise to everyone from Gnarls Barkley to Beck to The Black Keys.

The resulting self-titled full-length doesn’t sound as cutting edge and genre-blasting as I would have expected. But classifying it just isn’t easy; saying I’ve heard the sound before would be too much so. The duo recorded all their own instruments, which definitely boosts the cool-factor of the final result. If you imagined The Republic Tigers broadening their scope by suddenly including, wait, by including Danger Mouse, well you might just get the same effect. You could sub Danger Mouse for another searcher of solo spotlight—Julian Casablancas. The album is catchy after a few listens, and it’s nice to use the words “electronic elements” to describe some highlights of the album, and not have to follow up with an eye roll. The lyrics–for all you weather-beaten and serial status updaters out there–are quite an eyebrow raise of life lessons: “Come on and get the minimum/Before you open up your eyes/This army has so many hands to analyze.”

As far as internal movement, there are moments of subtlety and inner-focus, where you hear a lot of keys and minor percussion and sweeping, swooning vocals. Those are plays like “Sailing to Nowhere,” which is great in its entirety as it breaks down to a few hooks of acoustic confession and bass drum spotlight and then flips into dramatic swings and a piano rift straight out of the 20s. “Trap Door” is also mellow, keeping in tune those low-key “electronic elements” with a hand clap-style back beats and even an inclusion of “mmmm” that I definitely dig, and you’ll appreciate. To switch gears to something a bit more upbeat and add some attitude, immediately set your dial to “The Mall and Misery” and feel a bit closer to a DJ state of sound as you bounce your head to a mini percussion lab. The lyrics here play out a tad more spiteful, “Your tiny vengeful life might pass through my mind, but I blink and it’s over.” Perfectly matches the bad-ass sound that the Shins never got to break out.

The remainder motion of this debut gift of an otherwise stellar partnership (because who knows how long it will last, so let’s not get too involved in the fling), flirts with southern acoustic (“October”), Mars Volta-reminiscent overdramatic echoes (“Vaporize”), a Bee Gees-style sound of soprano heights and hand-claps (“The Ghost Inside”), and lyrics that are more observatory than “God, I’m so heartbroken, lonely, introspective and abused.”

This album can’t be better likened to anything less obvious than a sigh. A freaking sigh. You don’t really know you needed it until it runs through your entire soul, removing all frustration, confusion and clutter by giving you the ‘You Time’ that’s deserved. Add to that some famous guys and a fling with electronic tics and you have something that should feel even better when you know what to expect.

Track Listing:

1. The High Road
2. Vaporize
3. Your Head Is On Fire
4. The Ghost Inside
5. Sailing to Nowhere
6. Trap Doors
7. Citizen
8. October
9. Mongrel Heart
10. The Mall and Misery

It may have taken four questionable years, taken the inevitable “it’s not you, it’s me” by Polyvinyl Records and a cataclysmic soul searching for the entire band of Decibully for their third album to happen, but here it is. And so here is another reason why the “worth the wait” saying gets more annoyingly true.

World Travels Fast is a myriad of instrumental talents, as all six members bust out their best nerdy work sounding out sleigh bells, accordion, banjo, lapsteel, shakers and other random accompaniments to a well-rounded rock project.

It’s definitely a deeper (both emotionally and progressively) album than either of the previous two; besides being so musically talented, you’ll immediately hear an overwhelming presence of reverberation that keeps a ribbon of drama flowing evenly throughout the whole thing.

“You love sad songs,” William Seidel repeats in “Hour Of Noise” (which has the best musical effect on the entire album—a creepy, haunting saw), and you can expect a similar tone the entire listen. I’d pair this play with a day driving in cold mid-western slush, trying to figure out what you’re going to do next with your life. It’s the perfect partner, because rather than leave you crying in your Starbucks, it will soundtrack a solid revolution (auto-biographical, I imagine). Listen to echo-ey “Don’t Believe The Hype,” you’ll get it.

There are slower acoustic performances like self-titled “World Travels Fast” or strings-sidled “Little White Girl,” if you are indeed looking for a sappy soul-damaging tryst with musical heartbreak. There’s an amazing track called “Baby’s Mama,” that must be some homage to Sting right before he got all ethereal on us.

For an upswing, push play on the tracks fired up with enough Mutemath and The Music that again, keep out an air of depression (that would be “Somewhere In The World” and “Get In the Car,” for starters).

Some other thoughts while digging this (as you inevitably will), is that you realize it’s just damn well beautifully sung. And it seems as if something is missing. Could it be…keys? Heaven forbid an indie band bring back a modern day revival missing some dripping piano hook. And true, they use an insane amount of instruments that may confuse the listener on what genre to book it in. But here it’s not a bad thing, the full presence of noise is so sophistically placed that you, too, may want to start learning how to break out a saw and make it croon.

If an album isn’t heartbreaking, but it isn’t empowering, and can’t really be spun when you need a sick beat for a dance party, what do you call it? You bring to mind this one, and use it to exemplify reality.

You can stream, buy, download or do whatever you want here.

Decibully: myspace

If you’re a first time listener, a few things most likely won’t surprise you.

1. These boys are UK-made and thriving
2. These boys are huge on the radio waves
3. These boys have seen serious family heartache

With Athlete’s first hit album, Vehicles and Animals, listeners heard more electric-tinged motion, and it included a quirky ditty, “El Salvador” that popped up on The Last Kiss soundtrack and gained quite a fan base. Fast-forward to year 2009, and Athlete is now releasing record number four, and has been mood music to “One Tree Hill” four times.

So what can we amateur Americans liken Athlete to? Well, critics seem to agree that Coldplay’s mellow swells and slows are here, and the sweethearts of popular indie success, Snow Patrol, would dig this. Lead vocalist Joel Pott has a voice made for proclaiming tender life lessons with backup from echo-ey (not acoustic or biting) guitars, symphonic synth, and moments when the arena-jammed fans are wailing “ohhh wooahhh ohh” right along with him.

Black Swan seems to have a steady plot; the whole arrangement was named appropriately for life and its cataclysmic turns. “We read an article about Nassim Nicholas Taleb and his book The Black Swan,” as Pott puts it. “He was saying that our lives are made up of a handful of significant shocks, good or bad. That’s exactly how our journey has been over the last six years. We’ve had lots of unexpected highs and lows, as a band and as people.”

That being said, there are definite winners in the mix, and then moments where it just seems too FM-ready. For instance, “The Getaway” is the first single and massive fan favorite in the U.S., and one listen will bring you to the conclusion that yeah, it’s perfectly produced and breathtakingly well balanced. The lyrics, starting with, “I never really know who you are/you could be a ghost for all I know” let you know that this is the track you want motivating your all-too confusing and bipolar love life. However, the cheesy clincher explodes later in the song, “please break my heart/just so I can feel.” Come on…cue the montage.

But not all tracks sound like a band-backed Matt Nathanson, Howie Day, Travis, Damien Rice, enter-any-other-young-adult-nighttime-soap-indie-band-here. “Love Come Rescue” really is beautiful, on any facet. From the finger plucking of the acoustic, to the resonating crooning of Pott’s voice, and even the tender lyrics that aren’t made for crowd pleasing; these are the lyrics that seem to be talking only to the subject, whoever that is. This should have been the single, in all its honesty and secrecy. But it’s a short track, at under three minutes. And so I elect another, “Superhuman Touch” to grace the radio for a while. It’s fun, and still has moments that, although not too innovative, seem unique.

The album is good enough to pass with a thumbs-up, but it should come with a warning to indie-absorbed snobs like this writer—overplay is an absolute possibility, if not guarantee. Come next spring, this sucker will be in ALL the bars.

Track List:
01. Superhuman Touch
02. The Gateway
03. Black Swan Song
04. Don’t Hold Your Breath
05. Love Come Rescue
06. Light The Way
07. The Unknown
08. Awkward Goodbye
09. Magical Mistakes
10. Rubik’s Cube
11. Black Swan

Athlete: website | myspace

Here at PopWreckoning, we’ve officially hit a level of mail that makes it impossible for us to give full reviews to every band. However, this does not mean we believe that these bands shouldn’t be granted some for of press. It simply means we have to scale it down a bit. Therefore, we have opted to create a feature called Bite Size Reviews, which shall appear several times a week. This feature will contain 5 reviews each under 100 words and links to the albums website, MySpace page or label. We believe this is the best use of our mail and hope you too enjoy the reviews. They are as follows:

Thao – Know Better Learn Faster

With a 33-second intro of a chain gang chant, complete with handclap poignancy, you’ll expect a jumper and a revolutionary from albums past. Well, let’s just say that the Thermals split they did earlier in the year for Record Store Day was a preemptive move, since you have a little of the Thermals pop persistent throughout. Maybe even edging out their Alterna-Folk ground that was evident on We Brave Bee Stings And All. Social-mixer-and-mix-tape-friendly, with even a few tracks to dance to, like “Easy” and “Body.” “Fixed It!”, however, is a song made for Wednesday night group karaoke.

website | myspace | @ First Unitarian Church | @ Electric Factory | @ Terminal 5 | interview with | @ Liberty Hall

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Lucero – 1372 Overton Park

This album should be taken with a box of tissues, as Lucero rounds a hill of ragged southern blues to its repertoire. Word is, that this record sounds more like Rebels, Rogues & Sworn Brothers and Tennessee, but those slower unrefined drawls bring on an even stronger Memphis soul, with a seriously smoky edge. True, that “What Are You Willing To Lose” maintains that upbeat organ choir uprising, but the album is a toying game between emotions—rebellious cries both amorous and longing. At least with Tennessee the instruments were creative and full, whereas 1372 just sounds like you’re outside a motorcycle rebel dive bar or a truck stop diner.

website | myspace

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Panther – Entropy

Panther begins by playing a little with your mind. The first track, “Latitudes For Centuries” sounds a bit like a Broadway warm-up, with an echo of ethereal vocals overpowering an introduction of piano. From there, it’s anyone’s guess. True to its history, the play-through sounds like it was a one-man (Charlie Salas-Humara) act that gathered a partner and a brand new direction. This adventure is just that, less electrical and more dancy-melodic. “Control Yr Ships” will quickly be an album favorite—the echo-ey voices returning with definite vociferous and keys presence. “Springwater” gets a bit too Dirty Projectors for me in a short chorus, but what’s left off the record is sincerely intelligent fun.

website | myspace | @ berbati’s pan

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Fink – Sort of a Revolution

This is technically an artist doing the a.k.a. deal, whose real name is Fin Greenall, and whose day job is songwriter, producer, and DJ. A Sort of Revolution is masterfully crafted, from the writing to the production, and given his resume we’re not very surprised. The fourth album strings along Greenall’s beautiful rhythm and blues voice in matching syncopation with intensely focused acoustic guitar plucking. Simply speaking, a record made for chilling out with a slicker vibe. This definitely isn’t folk, so take that you acoustic demographic. And in a flawless addition to his already stellar collection of full-lengths, you’ll be happy to know that it was a John Legend collaboration that set this record to a new tier of awesome.

website | myspace

Trying to evaluate your favorite band’s latest album is sort of like how I imagine self-performed open-heart surgery. And to boot, having that band be Brand New—a gang that earns as much sharp-tongued bullets as it does hugs and wet dream objectivity—it’s like your words should be as ground-breaking as they come. They’re the reason I literally wear a nickel around my neck (a nod to “The No Seatbelt Song,” my dears).

This Daisy conglomeration of a rock-and-ail renegade reaction has been pleasantly ground into my ears so much that I needed a hiatus of personal opinion. So I took the inevitable route—I asked the dude that introduced me to my emotionally whip lashed boys to provide a few words. His review was so great that I had to take a back seat, because these next paragraphs simply nail the idea.

In a word: “distressed.” The guitars are distressed, the production’s distressed, the vocals and the lyrics… my God, the vocals and the lyrics may come to define distressed.

More so than Devil and God, they’ve removed themselves from the emo scrap heap that they were so closely associated with just a few years ago. And it doesn’t sound like a self-conscious decision to pursue their current sound; it sounds exactly as it should – a natural progression from where they were then to where they are now.

Musically (that sounds dumb, doesn’t it?), the band continues to not exactly break new ground, but serve as a fascinating mixture of their own sensibilities and those of their influences: a little Nirvana here, some Fugazi there, a pinch of Modest Mouse and Neutral Milk Hotel to spice things up. They’re songwriting craft remains solidly in the verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus vein, but they’re not afraid to take the songs down unexpected passages or pursue interludes that they may have shied away from before.

The production is much looser and jammier than anything they’ve done before. Less energy seems to be devoted to click-track perfectionism, and all of it seems focused on raw aggression and bashing away on their instruments. Which isn’t to say it’s lo-fi or sloppy – the guitars are still thick and sound fantastic in stereo, the bass and drums are still boomy and clear… it’s just that everything is done a little messier and rough around the edges.

The lyrics are darker and more tortured than ever. I know Jesse said Vinnie did the majority of the writing (you can probably clear up whether he meant with music, lyrics or both) but whoever wrote them seriously needs a hug. It’s one thing to sing about a millstone being tied to your neck; another thing to scream about your realization that your dead relatives are being eaten away by worms. At times it feels like their Your Favorite Weapon sense of humor is back, as the lyrics are SO morbid, you think it may be self-concious or satirical… but the ending refrain of “I’m on my way out” is genuinely disturbing and leaves a bitter aftertaste.

And because of the novelty, here’s a little song-by-song breakdown

- “Vices” – deliriously awesome, a mini raging animal of a song…when you get past the music box haunting start.

- “Bed” – smooth, mellow, goes down like amber ale

- “At the Bottom” – kind of Modest Mouse-y, powerful chorus and a great, jittery bridge with an anthemic edge

- “Gasoline” – oddly constructed, but driving and memorable

- “You Stole” – really great… the initial melody leads you to believe it’ll be a poppier (albeit still minor key), shorter tune, but it turns into something a little more somber and lengthy

- “Be Gone” – short and haunting – I have no idea why they wanted a nasty, Southern bluesy acoustic interlude, but I’m glad they did

- “Sink” – rough and violent, but fun, if that’s possible

- “Bought a Bride” – a highlight: trippy, groovy, probably my favorite on the album, along with the opening track

- “Daisy” – I only listened to this a couple of times and can’t remember enough to comment on it; ironically the album’s disappointment

- “In a Jar” – Quite possibly the rawest climax, with eastern-influenced choruses and the signature Lacey sing-to-screech vocals

- “Noro” – a great, dense, lingerer. The epitome of closing perfection, it combines a formula of bass and percussion with spoken and sung verses

The major heartbreaking discovery that comes with the initial excitement of such an intense release is an interview the band did with European magazine Rock Sound last month. “Since we released our last album the idea of the band has really been laid to rest,” Lacey admitted, “it is dead now.” The point being–coupled with the fact that the band does little-to-no American press availability—that this record wasn’t made with a theme in mind; no expectations to meet; who really cares if it’s heralded or spit on? It was just a project, just a sound, just something I love to blast in my ears as I pound the sidewalk late at night headed into Chicago for a solo adventure…it’s my new favorite weapon (aw, shucks).

Brand New: website | myspace

Contributed to by: Ryan Carroll

Allowing me to be a bit brash for a moment, consider yourself lucky you’re hearing about this band now, well ahead of all your other friends who “remembers when” this and that band was hand printing stickers. Xylos will be your new favorite band. Xylos, a group that is composed of East Coast darlings, and who recently hit the “Bands To Know” L Magazine list, introduces themselves with a five song EP. And if you don’t pick it up immediately, you should be ashamed of yourselves.

They call it Bedrooms, but the album art features a skinny little thing in a bikini standing shy alone on a beach. As one giant 24 minute feast, it plays beautifully and can keep up with your musical A.D.D.

In fact, there are so many different sounds and influences—Spanish guitar, electronic, world beats, Jenny Lewis-like swooning, shakers, auto-tune, heavy and soft acoustic—that it should be all wrong. Except the approach is so slight and tender, that even those slow songs come out romantic and whole.

“In The Bedroom” opens with a sticky sweet rhythm and electronic accoutrement, a little like a good Discovery—in fact, if Discovery hadn’t overkilled it with such ridiculous vocal manipulation, they would sound as damn good as this Xylos tune. It’s not a boring first impression, even though the track carries much of the same sound, it’s a good sound, and the end hints at drummer Mike Greenfield’s talent.

If the opener was beachy, “Wrapped In A Page” is a foggy autumn evening on a porch in the mountains. Still lingering, still bringing about a newer noise with strings floating throughout. The xylophone and percussion do a quirky duet leading to an epic verse where dubbing and boy-girl proclamations give you goosebumps. And although “Yellow Flip Flops” sounds like a sunny one meant for a walk along Long Beach Island, we hear birds, some 70s folk, and that Jenny reference I mentioned (though singer Nikki Lancy has a better composition to work with). And once again, wait for the end. There’s an impressive solo bout that reminds me of a Bryan Adams riff. But pleasantly, not in that condescending, lame way. By the time “This House We Built” and “Testament” arrives, you’ll understand how the EP is mood-based, never pinned down with a certain theme or heartbreak.

The album was a basis for frontman Eric Zeiler’s haikus. And hell, if that’s what it takes, plus a group of childhood friends, a Craigslist post, and talented four (not one) songwriting minds entangling perfectly together, than expect more genius out of the English department.

I recently read that the band was so young (let’s hope they throw a killer one-year anniversary party this month) that they come across as amazing but raw; that they hadn’t found their sound yet. And I want to scream as loud as I can that if they change, I walk.

If you need more, like I did, there are some demos available on MySpace. They also drop their first full-length in the fall, to be followed with massive touring of the UK and our States. Pay attention—you’ll want to be front row, and those of you that are constantly awaiting the newest indie darlings, watch for who they bring to open.

Bedrooms is available now for free download on the band’s website. Get it here!

Xylos: website | myspace