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For years, singer/songwriter/New Yorker James Balyut has fronted thegroup Versus, cranking out a parade of critically-acclaimed rocking poprecords. With this self-titled long-paying debut album, Balyut hasstepped out, almost entirely alone, into the playing field of thisdecade, merging crafty tunemanship with a heap of drum machines,electronics, and a super clean production that's only ever slightlyrough around the edges. When it's good, it can get really, reallyawesome, with feverishly catchy tunes like "The Queen of Detroit," andthe slow but undeniably forceful, "The Declaration of Independence,"and somewhat sexily messy bursts in "All I Have to Do is Make You."Balyut's acoustic fingerpicking skills are highlighted in numeroussongs, including "The Industrial Revolution," a tune to bring a smileto nearly any David Grubbs fan with a vocal style that has most likelygiven people like Sam Prekop and Marcus Acher more confidence to singwith their timid voices. However, some of the slower moments, like thealbum's opening and the cringeful repetition of "Yo Yo Yo," can be moreembarassing than listening to Pet Shop Boys at loud volumes in public.When a four-piece group is assembled for live shows, the format istranslated almost entirely over to standard rock instrumentation, andthere's never a weak moment. Hopefully with future records, Balyut willbe less wary of letting his teeth show, but for now, this rather quietand laid-back record is more of a bold statement and could easily bodewell with fans of the more electronic side of Clinic who ache for a lotmore musical proficiency and no irony.
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Okay, I'll be the first to say it: I just don't see it. Once again, aband has emerged from New York City making a huge name for themselvesin magazines, getting signed to Matador, getting compared to JoyDivision and other classic bands, and I just don't see it. At all. ThisEP is horrible.This band is horrible. There's nothing redeeming about sounding likeother bands, but these guys don't even sound like any of the bandsthey're compared to, so if they're throwing them out as influencesthat's a mistake on their part. This music is unoriginal,unimaginative, meandering, melancholy nonsense. When I saw the mentionin Entertainment Weekly recently, I should have known the game was up.But no. I gave them a chance. I opened my mind and ears to Interpol.And I'm not impressed/amused/amazed/excited or otherwise enthused. It'sjust bad. And not in that "it's just bad enough to be good" way,either. 'PDA' opens with a hard drum beat, and vocals that are mutedand washed out that sound like they're being sung by a Germanexpatriate. The melody is tired but has promise, and then the choruswith its "sleep tight/sleep tonight" is trite. It reminded me of one ofthe songs Darryl Zero sings. Then it's time for 'NYC'. Side note: ifone more band from NYC has a song with NYC in the title, I'm going tostart taking pills. It's slow tempo, it has silly lyrics ("the subwayshe is a porno/and the pavements they are a mess"), and it's just shyof a Mogwai melody with nowhere to go. And just when that one's over,'Specialist' starts and it seems, for a moment, like it might restoreyour faith. That bassline is catchy enough if the song would rock outand work hard for it's money. But then the vocals start. And they'reoff a little with the bassline because the guitars haven't come in yet.Then the song doesn't rock. It doesn't roll. It does nothingbut stink. A lot. A word to journalists: stop comparing this band toJoy Division. It's a disgrace to that band, and a mischaracterizationfor this one. And a word to the listener: if you liked this release, Ihave three words for you - Shudder to Think. They did this so muchbetter six years ago, and even then it was questionable. Avoid. Avoid,avoid, avoid this band.
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With their debut release Flesh Eating Ants have thrown their hat into the Pink Dots and related re-issue ring. Tanith was originally intended for vinyl but stopped short at CD. Now over a decade later it has arrived in a most admirable fashion: remastered on two 220 gram Direct Metal Mastered gray platters in a dazzlingly colorful sleeve, hand numbered up to 512. The first LP is Tanith proper, slightly re-worked for the format, and the second the extras: the two CD bonus tracks and three new demos written and recorded in the wake of 9/11.
 
As with much of Ka-Spel's solo work, the music is mostly comprised of keyboards and an almost found sound sort of miscellany (guitars, radio, percussion, melodica) and involves members of his extended musical family of the time. The album plays out like a patchwork of disparate lyrical novellas and instrumental passages. It flows rather well despite some fairly drastic changes: a pretty piano ballad here, a cantankerous synth fit there, a soothing sound loop here, a cutesy harpsichord ditty there, an overdriven vocal here, a not quite a capella lullaby there, etc. Ka-Spel's gift at imaginatively setting a scene or sweetly serenading a lover with a minimal amount of poetry is nothing short of genius, proven several more times over with some of these songs. But quoting bits is criminal as each in their entirety tells the stories.
The finale "Hotel X" is one of the loveliest songs in the whole back catalog, a sort of hallucinogenic travelogue for Edward and his tired eyed partner.
Sides C and D complement 'Tanith' well. "Phoney War" and "Old Man Trouble" were written during the Gulf War and are on the more frantic end of the spectrum while "Diary 11th", "Diary 12th" and "Diary 13th" begin at and progress further toward the opposite end. By the 13th it seems that Ka-Spel was at a loss for words as the overwhelming sadness had fully set in. About all that remains is ten somber minutes worth of slow moving sound cloud, reminding me of the unforgettable images of massive walls of dust and debris filling the streets of NYC.
Well, it just doesn't get much better than this. Kudos to Ka-Spel and Flesh Eating Ants for the royal re-issue treatment: it looks great, it sounds great and it's greatly expanded. Exactly what pink dotted analogue enthusiasts are looking for.
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The first strikingly clear quality of the debut full-lenther by YannTambour as Encre is the crispness of the production, as noises andloops of organic drums, piano, guitar and violin are maimed and severedand sutured together in a mosaic, stylistic of a drunken butcher, whichnever misses a beat. And then, there's the vocals, so strikingly closeI can smell the coffee, cigarettes and croissants on Tambour's breath.Have you ever had somebody standing so close to you and talking in yourface that the intimacy becomes feverishly uneasy? Combine that with thesullen, whispery voice of Tambour entirely in French and the entireexperience becomes as bizarre and uncomfortable as it is intriguing.Hauntingly clever and never dull, this eight-track long player isconfusing and unlocking with every listen, with dimensions of auraldementia, fuzz and noise integrated in with sparklingly clear sounds,and creepy loops at a slick pace. (I swear I hear the sounds of an ironlung in track three, "Or.") Be very careful with this album, as atextremely loud volumes, my very own heart begins to palpitate. I wish Ispent more time paying attention in French class.
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Following up last year's compilation of live recordings, Richard,Karine and Olivier return with a brand-new studio album, this time withJan Zert in tow on a few tracks. 'L'Amour Invisible' kicks off with theimpressive and promising "Crazyhead," laiden with heavy trip hopovertones and offset by drones, sparse male vocals (Richard perhaps?)and Amp's signature dreamy bass throbs. The title track, which follows,features Karine's incredibly sexy French whispers (to the non-Frenchspeaker's ears, she could be reading a grocery list and it would stillsound sexy) in a framework of glitchy fragments. "Curious Smile" showsoff the more electronic leanings that Gauthier brings to the group.Although slightly reminiscent of the subdued electro-pop of DonnaRegina, such an approach is not always as conducive to Karine's voiceand Richard's organic elements. It seems to work well with tracks suchas "Crazyhead", and "It Ain't Easy", but not as well in other placessuch as this. "How Can We Be Sure" recalls Amp at their best: hypnoticand cavernous. Other tracks, on the other hand, like "Where Was When",are less interesting and rather forgettable. Or, like "Glasshouse Jam,"are pretty, but don't really go anywhere (but, it's admittedly a jam,so perhaps it needn't do so). 'L'Amour Invisible' finishes with"Junkyard Blues" and "Go" which are more spacy jams, followed by acontrasting bonus track: noisy and raw, with lots of feedback. Alloverthe album is not nearly as strong or gutsy as the brilliant'Stenorette', which Amp released in 1998. Gauthier's rhythm programmingis not as effective as it was on tracks like "Sunflower" or "You AreHere." The band's latest work is diverse but somehow notattention-grabbing—they seem to meander between different styles withfinding any cohesion. The more outstanding tracks from 'L'AmourInvisble' might have worked better as 7"s, such as the band releasedsteadily while still in their fledgling stage nearly 10 years ago.
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This frenetic one-sided 12" containing a single unlisted track showedup around the end of last year with a robo-processed Jenkinsonproclaiming what sounds like "Squarepusher with all the difference ondrum 'n bass." With this offering, it's quite true. After the mixedreviews of "Go Plastic," Jenkinson has nailed it with what comes acrossas all the high points of said disc to form a great five minutes of hisown take on drum 'n bass. The clipping of shifting rhythms, thick basslines (including a sneaky disco bit), flurries of squelching synths andcut 'n paste vocal textures groove along just nicely. Well worthchecking out.
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Landing has finally emerged as a band with not only a lot of fantasticnoise to be thrown around, but a great deal of melody to accompany it.Their last full-length, "Circuit" (yes, I know there was one afterthat, but it was recorded before "Circuit"), was a bit disappointingonly in that many of the songs hit their mark and just stayed there,never striving for more, never trying. Then, they released a split tourEP with Windy + Carl, and there was promise. The drone was there, buttheir use of melody was just astonishing! Where did it come from all ofa sudden? When I read the concept behind this album - songs andmovements dedicated to each season - I couldn't wait to hear it. Andthe payoff is indescribable. The Snows' melodies improve with everyrelease, and on "Seasons" they've reached a new height. They blendtogether with ease, and fit into the music just so, that there's littledoubt that that's the way it was always supposed to sound. The drumsare a little more pronounced this time around, and the guitars are lessshrill. Most importantly: very often on this release the guitars aren'tdistorted or treated with effects, which makes for some lovely moments,like 'Can't Hide Forever (Into the Woods)' and 'Encircled (ThroughFallen Leaves)'. The best part of the release has to be the promiseheard in this music. Landing has returned, they're a little differentand better for it, and they have quite a ways to go to achieve create atrue masterpiece of modern music. And on "Seasons", Landing has gottena little closer, and it seems all the more possible for them now.
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Very little can be found on Sote when scanning the Warp website (theydon't even have sound samples for this one!), but that's prettyirrelevant once you pop this CD into your stereo. The best way todescribe "Electric Deaf" is this: splattering chunks of acid noise heldtogether by chaotic rhythms and disemboweling bass frequencies.Overdrivensquelches and electronic death rattles leave a grisly mess intheir wake, to say nothing of the massive aneurysm it will induce inyour speakers. The b-side, "Subconscious", takes a short step away fromthe bloodbath. Here, playful oldschool arpeggios dance aroundbludgeoning breaks and otherworldly vocal snippets. During thebreakdown, there is a certain calm as airy pads and the aforementionedarpeggios fill the space as best they can. It's a welcome, albeittemporary, relief for hemorhaging ears. With Warp's increasingly shoddyoutput of late (Vincent Gallo... 'nuff said!), it's nice to see thatthey can still pump out some hardcore eviscerating shit. Let's hopethere's more of this to come... like a Sote full-length!
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Not actually a newcomer to the electronic world neither as producer,artist nor as remixer (Fatboy Slim, Ashley Beedle, Vladislav Delayf.e.) Hakan Lidbo presents here his own vision of artificiallistening/electronic intelligence. 6 tracks, each 10 minutes long make60 minutes (hence the bludgeoning original album title) - but actuallythere are no separate tracks, as the index points simply indicateconcept. It's an hour of hi-tec equipment out of bounds, a carnage ofsounds on the edge of commercial appeal thrown in a steady flowunderlined by a minimal tech funk beat that never stays away for toolong but could have been more savage and challenging for my tastes. Thealbum is basically a producer's DJ mix with his own material but HakanLidbo plays it safely in the middle between dancefloor and homelistening. The sound quality is perfect, cultivated through a technicalexpertise not splattered by the stench of leaving any gadgets rot inthe corner. This has some of the clinical charm remeniscent of mostKraftwerk releases and will please fans of early Warp stuff too, thoughin comparison, it is a much updated, reinstalled and expanded version.
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Without trying to come across as schmaltzy, I find it interesting that,as music fans, there are those particular discs which have become thesoundtrack to a time and place, be it a courtship, road trip, party,etc., in which fond memories are tied to. With a timely release, mynomination for the soundtrack for this summer is in. Although heappears on several records for Thrill Jockey (Sea and Cake, SamPrekop), "Three" marks the solo debut on the label for Mr. Prewitt. Inkeeping with the well-crafted pop sensibility of 1999's "White Sky",there are some of the disc's fourteen tracks which could be said tohearken back to the 1970's (without making any direct comparisons) bothin composition and full-sounding instrumental arrangements. Opening thedisc with sparse crashes, "Over the Line" grabs the ear and leads itinto a pleasant, mid-tempo pop song which is plump with strings, layersof guitars and vocals, keys and harmonica. The choppy guitar, weavingbass lines and solid drumming of "Second Time Trader" make for greatmusic to be driving to. The distinct analog-sounding synth and backingvocals are the icing on this one. "Behind Your Sun" starts as a gloomy,odd-time signature shifting, acoustic guitar driven piece whichgradually becomes very upbeat, complete with horns and a subtletriangle. "No Defense" is the rocker which shifts comfortably throughseveral sections as if it were a prog-rock epic, but in the span offive minutes. The beautiful backing vocals of guests Kelly Hogan andNora O'Connor make this tune melt in your ears. Some other notableguests augmenting the live band include Paul Mertens(arranger/woodwinds/saxes), Alison Chesley and Susan Voelz (strings) ofPoi Dog Pondering and Brokeback/Chicago Underground bassist NoelKupersmith. Pull up a deck chair, grab a cool beverage and press play.
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For some strange reason, several sites reported that the BeachwoodSparks EP I reviewed last week had Arlo members on it. Searchingthrough the liner notes, I could see none of the names of Arlobandmembers, and I have received no confirmation that they did. I alsocan't see how that's possible, given that the Beachwood Sparks EP waslackluster at best, and this new LP from Arlo is so fantastic. Yeah,they know how to rock, and they aren't afraid to use it. It's indierock; it's catchy, hooky, with great harmonies; it's like Built toSpill but harder and a little more tongue-in-cheek. Yes, it's thatgood. Nate Greely, Ryan "Shmedly" Maynes, and Sean Spillane are allfantastic songwriters with their own quirky edges, and this CD showstheir sides off well. It does have moments of hard rock largesse thatalmost bring to mind hair metal bands of the eighties, but in a goodway. You can almost see these guys synchronizing their thrashing, withno hair, in a garage somewhere in Los Angeles, where Greely andSpillane are from. This music out-rocks Weezer, out-hooks Jimmy EatWorld, and out-quirks Cake. Listener-friendly grunge pop in 2002? Itexists beyond the scope MTV2 covers, and if you haven't heard it, giveArlo a try. They're working hard to make music better.
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