Podcast Episodes 721 & 722 are live!
Mid-November midweek special
Two new episodes are now available.
Episode 721 features Throwing Muses, Eros, claire rousay, Moin, Zachary Paul, Voice Actor and Squu, Leya, Venediktos Tempelboom, Cybotron, Robin Rimbaud and Michael Wells, Man or Astro-Man?, and Aisha Vaughan.
Episode 722 has James Blackshaw, FACS, Laibach, La Securite, Good Sad Happy Bad, Eramus Hall, Nonconnah, The Rollies, Jabu, Freckle, Evan Chapman, diane barbe, Tuxedomoon, and Mark McGuire.
Wine in Paris photo by Mathieu.
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Proficiency at editing is just as prominent on the list of this quartet's skills as is their songwriting ability. Rather than presenting results along the way since recording commenced in 2002, Akron/Family have waited and produced a work that lends the project the air of appearing fully formed from out of nowhere.
The same musicians whoworked on the debut return, but with a completely new captain at thehelm, as Prekop creates a truly original work with shifting stylesmid-song, laid-back rhythms, and super smooth accents that surprise asmuch as or more than they entertain. These songs are not completelydifferent from what he has done before, but merely the logical nextstep and expansion of what he does best. The album's fourth track"Dedications" starts out like a lost Motown groove hit of the 1970suntil his voice and bright playful guitar come in. Next it's asingalong on the choruses, where universal feelings touch a chord thatall can appreciate, double-tracked vocals matched with the rightharmonies. Then, almost imperceptibly, at the end of the song, a blendof synthesizers appear from out of nowhere to close out the track in anigh-drone that instead tickles the cerebral cortex. One song, unlikeall the others but that still fits, as every track fills the formula bynot being like the last. Instruments come in and out, tempos change,and the whole sonic color wheel might be askew from before but it'salright: Prekop never treats the song like a mistress, using thetechnique and casting it aside. Every tone, every word, every note,every beat is a faithful lover, just with different back stories. "ASplendid Hollow" builds to a gorgeous climax from a quiet beginning; "C+ F" is pure pop with handclaps and thudding bass; and "Density" isalmost hip-hop, but done with pure lounge grooves instead of big beatdrums and processed bass notes, with the always welcome addition of RobMazurek. Some of the songs don't hit right the first time through, butthat's mainly because the intricacies of the arrangements are notimmediately apparent. This is becoming Prekop's strongest suit, and thelack of a question mark on the album's title is a sly wink, as well.It's a statement, as in "Sam Prekop is your new professor," and classis in session.
This time around, and true to thetrack's title, MacLean clears a more cybernetic causeway, creating a Trans-Europe Express-on-methamphetamineenergy that pushes the track into dizzyingly hyperactive and syntheticterritory that might have been better left unexplored. Along thisfuturistic highway, MacLean takes a few short off-ramps into stutteringbeat deconstructions, intriguing vocal samples and Commodore 64anachronisms, but ultimately the trip left me with nothing more than asore ass and a coin tray empty of toll money. "Less Than Human" on theflip side is even more self-consciously retro, a vaguely Teutonic(again) house exploration heavy on the analog side of things, thatfeels like it was tossed off very quickly and cheaply. This is notnecessarily always a bad thing, but in the case of this single, alittle more attention to detail might have been in order. Juan MacLeanhas a full-length LP due out this summer, and I can only hope that this10" is not an indication of a complete style change, as I honestlypreferred the early stuff. 
By the End of Tonight's style is mostreminiscent of mid-90's post-rock maestros like A Minor Forest and DonCaballero. The songs are generally instrumental indie-rock suites withvarious parts making up the whole. The marriage of these parts withinthe suites is where the band sometimes missteps. Individually, theseparts sound great. But when coupled together or sequentially followingone another, they sometimes clash and lose a little of their logic and,thus, their impact. The mashing together of these parts is akin totoddler jamming unmatched jigsaw puzzle pieces together, creating aforced harmony and an unnatural synthesis. The band's music writinglacks a certain discipline just as the toddler lacks a certain jigsawpuzzle faculty, but the absence of this discipline lends something elseto the music which is largely lost on similar bands: youth. By the Endof Tonight have a youthful brilliance and vibrancy which is entirelyrefreshing and fun. When you get beyond the kitsch of drummer JeffWilson using a child's drum kit, the band's youth is better consideredan advantage than a detriment. Though the songs can result in anentropic collection of sound, there is a lot to appreciate within them."4's, 5's, and the Piano That Never Made It Home" is a custom-built,hardcore-band opener. It begins contemplatively with dueling guitarparts, a measured bass line, and drums which set the pace humbly for awhile and then break out in an eruption of primordial pounding. Theother instruments follow obediently. Halfway through the song, thetempo switches glaringly and this is when you first get the sense thatthe band's glue does not always hold the songs together perfectly."Stop, Drop, and Roll Does Not Work in Hell" begins calmly enough butis heralded soon by some distant emotive vocals (shouted at instead ofinto the microphone) and then explodes into some more metallicsignatures, all the while remaining quite playful. The most memorablesong is "Setting Sail in April" because the song's syntax is the mostjarring and pleasing at the same time. The disparate parts here are notwelded seamlessly and yet they are so catchy and compelling that itdoes not matter. There are moments of pure pop-punk beauty here. Oneminute into the song, you could be listening to The Descendents. Twentyseconds later, there are guitars so triumphant it could make even themost hardened indie-rocker shout out in unrestrained optimism. The songthen descends (or, perhaps, ascends) into a mathematic jam sessionuntil, with about a minute left, there is an unamplified guitarbreak-down worthy of the most sentimental Blink 182 riff (dispel yourprejudices about Blink 182; their sometimes careful tunesmithing canproduce some honest pop punk gems and their membership in the emo clubis hardly ever recognized justly). It is a fitting benediction for thesix-minute suite. The final two songs follow along in a similar styleand do no less to both confound and contain the listener'sexpectations. By the End of Tonight are endlessly playful, surprisinglyenergetic, and certain to stimulate either ire or interest with thislatest offering. 
The performance on A Frames' latest couldbe called sloppy, except it follows an annoyingly predictable patternof basic and pounding rhythms and excessively dissonant melodies thatgo nowhere and barely change over the course of a song. Sullivan'svocals are bellowed out over this rather noisy cascade of sound likesome campy narration of a bad Frankensteinmovie and the result makes me want to flip straight through many ofthese already short and narrow songs. "Black Forest I" and "Experiment"aren't too bad in and of themselves; the first begins like a factorygetting ready to churn out the most evil and nasty of monsters and thesecond is an all-engines-firing burn that wheezes by in a haze ofstatic and bumping low-end frequencies, but Black Forest rarelyescalates into anything exciting beyond those tunes. Half way throughthe album (when the dull gray color of the entire album begins to showthrough most strongly) I'm ready to turn it off and by the end I'mtwiddling my thumbs waiting for something to happen that I didn't seecoming from two songs away. Over time certain songs become moretolerable, like "Galena" and "Death Train" or even "U-Boat," but in theend the whole package just sounds like an underperformed, cold, anddistant take on the basic formula of guitars, drums, and voices. 
Absence isperfect background music for urban blight: the dirty drum breaks andjazz loops hung on walls of blinding white noise and screechingindustrial droning are as hard and unpalatable as the Garden State'swater supply, and simply seethe with anger and indignation. Risingbarely discernible above the din comes Dälek's lyrics, denouncing thelandscape around him, without stopping at the Turnpike for social andpolitical damnation. With a new, savage directness reminiscent ofBoogie Down Productions and Public Enemy, he tackles all comers in acultural "war of survival." Poetically, Dälek is still in a class ofhis own, dealing the complex and varied material with aplomb and brutalhonesty. Justified white anger scalds on "Permanent Underclass": "What,now we equals cause we have a King's holiday?/ Coming storms here tostay/ They turned the noon sky heron gray/ Africans into slaves/ Say wefree/ but if we speak like Malcolm X they assassinate"; and "Culturefor Dollars" paused to muse but still demands tough answers: "Whotrades his culture for dollars?/ The fool or the scholar? Griot? Poet?Or White collared?" The newfound lyrical directness is a welcomechange, and perfectly suited to such in-your-face music. Dälek stillrequires considerable fortitude from their listeners. "Distorted Prose"alternates lyrics with noise in a chaotic call and answer that aftersix minutes leaves the aurally weak begging for mercy. War of survival,indeed. However, out of all the madness seep bizarre harmonies—thesymphonic hook in "Ever Somber" is hypnotic and absurdly catchy, arevelation that surprises and rewards an unsuspecting ear. Absence is Dälek at their best: consistently harsh, grim and bleak but disquietingly irresistible.
