Sonic Youth – Daydream Nation (Geffen, 2007)
(This originally appeared in the Cleveland Free Times)
The space that Daydream Nation holds in the language of American rock is unmovable. Suppressed is the chiming of “She Is Not Alone” from their first release and SY hasn’t quite reached the structure of Washing Machine, but both the past and future lives of Sonic Youth are represented here. This re-release includes the original studio album as well as live recordings of the band touring the then new songs. Beginning the album with “Teenage Riot”, SY immediately points towards the path the recording and in-fact their career would take. Between the noise generated as well as the sentiment of the song, it was ensured of representing a change in SY. With all the music that ensued during the ‘90s, perhaps the shift in popular music can be traced here. It was to be the last independent label full length for the band. “Teenage Riot”, though, sounds meaner than anything of its’ ilk, which probably explains why it was not for a few more years that comparable music appeared in malls and the like.
In their recordings as in their interviews, SY always made their debts to other bands apparent. “Sprawl”, during the tense build-up at the beginning, recalls the Velvet Underground at their peak, while the studio version of the track sounds eerily similar to the last gasps of Loaded. In these two tracks SY traversed all of the Velvet’s and then found time enough to interpret garage sounds on the live “Candle”. The astonishing aspect of this again is the group’s ability to recall garage live and in the studio, conjure up something akin to Rhys Chatham with a decidedly ‘80s feel to it. “Eliminator Jr.”, while aggressive in both versions, finds Kim Gordon sounding a bit mannish amidst the group’s live rendition. But that’s why the live artifact exists. Paired with the studio version, the extras seem to embody the passion and dedication that SY invested into it’s music. You get a taste of both the unrestricted SY as well as the group who would come to value their ability to work with the studio as opposed to only capturing a live sound.
The Aggrolites – Reggae Hit L.A. (Hellcat, 2007)
(This originally appeared in the Cleveland Free Times)
They missed the sophomore slump. In fact the Aggrolites self-titled album so far surpassed anything in the genre that it seemed as if a newer, tougher Hepcat had arrived. What sets the Aggrolites’ previous releases apart from the current crop of ska/reggae acts like Westbound Train (who seem a bit effete) is that the quintet sounds as if it’s capable of beating your teeth in for causing trouble. Hellcat’s second Aggro release was purportedly written on the road and finished in the studio. From the onset there’s a different approach to the entire affair. The keyboard sound on “Work It” recalls a later day, lesser Gregory Isaacs effort. Even the vocals reflect a bit of a softening. It’s not that Jesse Wagner isn’t believable, but a bit of the grit is gone. “Lucky Streak” still sounds tough and convincing even if the lyrics recall “Trapper’s Got a Bird” by the Test Tube Babies. Morricone and the western influence exuded by the Upsetters becomes vented through the SoCal band on “Rhythm and Light”, which easily surpasses everything else on the album. It’s not quite “Man from M.I.5.”, but the twang is a welcome sound. Unlike their last effort, most of the vocal numbers are clunkers. Nothing’s horrible, but again it sounds more sentimental in comparison to the delivery in the past. And fortunately the chant of the title track is eclipsed by Rivas’ keyboard solo, which throughout the recording is the constant that keeps the aggro in the Aggrolites’ sound.
Rhymefest – Blue Collar (Allido/J Records, 2006)
(This originally appeared in the Cleveland Free Times)
Rhymefest has been rapping for a good number of years now. He beat Eminem at Scribble Jam eight years back and has worked with Kanye West before stardom hit. On his major label debut, after the independently released Raw Dawg, Rhymefest returns with more production help from West. Being touted as an intelligent, blue-collar rapper a few specifics about the album seem out of place. A number of the tracks on here are simply named after the main sample that producer of the track has chosen. In fact it seems as if the title of the sample even dictated Rhymefest’s expletive laden raps on tracks like “Devil’s Pie” and “Fever”. The raps for the most part are well put together, but occasionally stray from topics that seem to fit the persona this man has created for himself. “Get Down” and “Chicago-Rillas” comment on getting as many ladies and as much cash as possible. And while that isn’t far removed from reality, the shear audacity of including yet another post-mortem ODB track is beyond reproach. Without question, it is funny to hear Big Baby Jesus sing “Buttercup”, but probably the marketing team that Rhymefest employs could have found a different ploy to sell records.
Self Destruct Button – Natural Selection of Accidents (Tower Control, 2006)
(This originally appeared in the Cleveland Free Times)
What is the difference between noise and art? Probably, Self-Destruct Button doesn’t embark on Natural Selection of Accidents to answer that question, but they end up commenting on it in a roundabout manner. This one question has been on the minds of those that possess and those that fake intellect for years. And a number of tracks on this noisy album weigh in. “Comparing Cancers” for some reason or another makes me think about tugboats with its’ repetitive distorted themes. Also, in some ways, this track sets the tone for the following seven numbers. Even having said this, the bands most refined statements of their sound and style come in the form of “Universal Adapter” and “Deaf Porn Star”. The first track simply has multiple ideas or themes that the band encounters and moves through with straight ahead hard drumming. The later track, most probably situated at the end of the album for a reason, starts off as pretty straight forward metal. The vocals, when present are horribly distorted and difficult to decipher due to being pushed down relatively far in the mix. Most impressive and promising is the groups’ ability to grind out a bizarre funk in the forms of “Mail Bomb” and “Sandy Hands”. Again, not a traditional funk, but funk through the veils of Zappa and years of listening to metal. Self Destruct Button can easily do one thing well; play noisy rock while honoring punk and metal. But, they also can summon the funk while deviating from its’ mold to incorporate more absurdist notions of music.
Vanishing Voice – Stone Tablet (Important, 2007)
(This originally appeared in the Spring ‘07 issue of Skyscraper)
The LP version of this release sports a screen printed sleeve and the first 100 copies are on red vinyl. That was for the dork in all of you. After all of that, yes this is a band that recorded with Wooden Wand, who has now decided to work with the Sonic Youth dudes. But even without the Wand around, the band still cranks out some good noise. If you’ve become familiar with their previous releases and appreciate the structured portions, “The Last Evil” kicks in with the only feasible vocal lines on either side. It too, however, eventually devolves into a mess of noise and drums. Namesake of the album and the entire first side of it, “Stone Tablet” disorients the listener with the strangled electric guitar coming out of the right channel atop of the melody (that term is loosely used). Tribal drumming of the up and down variety, as opposed to carefully syncopated and nuanced kind, helps shift the song into different phases of discordant music. Eventually instruments phase away and there’s just production noise and a female moaning with a skreetch to end the side. Not wholly informed by kraut-rock, but noisily and doggedly related to it, Stone Tablet begins The Vanishing Voice’s stand alone musical output rather brashly.
V/A – Studio One: Rub-a-Dub (Soul-Jazz, 2007)
(This originally appeared in the Spring ‘07 issue of Skyscraper)
The songs that make up this album, when originally released, contributed to Jamaicans creating rap. There wasn’t a funky jazz band backing up any of these singers. And the concept of “band” is rather removed from the precedings on this slab. But the record industry in Jamaica, after rock-steady hit, spawned versions or dubs. Each one of these versions would be used repeatedly, by different singers, to different effect. Production became increasingly important, so most of these tracks are either a band playing an old composition or an instrumental record, augmented with other worldly noises and a vocalist chanting or singing atop of it. Every reggae compilation is generally split into well known names and the folks who only released a few singles and never a proper album. Len Allen Jnr., who falls into the later category, here is the standout with “White Belly Rat”. The Coxsone Dodd produced track sounds more as if it was birthed by Lee Perry, but the startling, ghostly vocals are unlike anything else on this release. The Horace Andy track, “Happiness”, is a pleasant contribution. But seeing as there’s nary a misstep on Studio-One comps, the inclusion of only one middle-of-the-road song is not surprising. This Soul-Jazz comp, regardless of how numerous they have become, serves to explicate a significant change in a music that would impact the globe.
Greg Ashley – Painted Garden (Birdman, 2007)
(This originally appeared in the Spring ‘07 issue of Skyscraper)
Let us begin this with the understanding that live, The Gris-Gris are one of the most dynamic and captivating bands roaming the country’s shitty little bars. Their front man, Greg Ashley who is also a member of The Mirrors, has released his second “solo” album. I hesitate to call it that solely based upon the fact that there are a good 15 to 20 people performing on the ten tracks that make up this work. Layered and echo drenched, “Songs from Limestone Country” begins the album with a quiet, disturbing array of found sounds before Ashley launches into dreamy, child-like lyrics. Very frequently, Ashley is referred to in the same breath as Mayo Thompson and Roky Erickson, which is not unwarranted, however, Van Morrison too has a hold on this man. “Pretty Belladonna” finds Ashley consorting with Morrison style vocals (a bit less Motown though) and an organ that easily recalls “The Story of Them, Pt. 1 & 2”. A number of tracks on Panted Garden do specifically sound as if they fell off of a Gris-Gris album. “Amnesia”, with the slowly stroked guitar, and production noises, adds a saxophone to achieve great affect. Probably, this all won’t catapult Ashley to fame, but serves to further expand a strong song writers cannon.
Lewis & Clarke – Blasts of Holy Birth (La Societe Expeditionnaire, 2007)
(This originally appeared in the Spring ‘07 issue of Skyscraper)
A swell of strings brings this offering from rural Pennsylvania to a start. Calm and seemingly refined the album begins with “Secret of Golden Flower” whose instrumental composition seems a bit more powerful than the title track that it leads into. The vocals of Lou Rogai aren’t as effortlessly enticing as the settings that they come from. It is a calm and gentle tone, one that fits musically, but ends up sounding a bit thin to lead. In the first two tracks of “Blasts of Holy Birth” the entirety of the recording can be surmised. There are gradually swells, some vox and it all settles down again. The folk-jazz of “Before it Breaks You” doesn’t instantly recall Pentagle, but one can figure that Rogai owns a few Bert Jansch recordings. If filed alongside some of whatever “New Weird America” is, this release isn’t a slouch. At the same time that the arrangements and sincerity of the music make one believe again in beauty, it could be simply examined as a self-imposed exiled city dweller getting a few ideas outta his cluttered mind.
RJD2 – Third Hand (XL, 2007)
(This originally appeared in the Spring ‘07 issue of Skyscraper)
Everything that I read about the 3rd proper full length from RJD2 shat all over it. Occasionally in a nice way, but frequently in a manner that could not be spoken to the guys face. What we have here are 12 tracks of what RJD2 wanted to create and three tracks of what everyone else expected. Basically, in the past when an artist/producer comes to the forefront of a genre and releases something that no one immediately pounces upon, it ends up being heralded a few years later as genius. Eno, Lou Reed, whoever. No, RJD2 is neither of those gentlemen, but he has over the past few years created a body of work that no misstep can revoke. And while, for whatever reason, he sings on a vast majority of tracks, “Rules for Normal Living” sounds like Michael Jackson with some electronica at the end. This won’t climb the charts, or launch hundreds of emulations, but the minimalism of “Paper Bubbles” needed to exposed to everyone that had purchased a RJD2 recording in the past. What this slab proves is two fold. First, RJD2 doesn’t care what you want, think or expect. And second, to be a good DJ, you must understand and utilize every genre of music you can get your hands on.
Backstabbers Inc. – Kamikaze Missions (trash art!, 2004)
Well, the first track is an intro, so really there’re only 13 songs full of contemporary hate from the northeasterners in Backstabbers Inc. The most startling discovery on this plate is that there is rhythm in most every song (especially “Ask, Answer”). After the inception of HC style in the early eighties, a number of bands simply began playing as fast as possible. And while that yielded interesting effects, the inclusion of rhythm changes the music. The music maintains its’ inherent viciousness, but instantly becomes more easily digestible. It’s noise that swings. And here it achieves the ever-elusive groove. In hardcore the tempo is obviously as nauseatingly fast as possible, and then the breakdown. Backstabbers include a third tempo; there’s a sort of real fast punk tempo (between the thrash and the breakdown) that moves songs along in an interesting way. This is displayed to some extant on “Even Slaves Will Be Swimming In the Blood of the Iron Fist”, which boasts the chanted chorus of, “We are not you’re fucking friends/Not now/Not fucking ever”. But, the title of this track brings me to a point that needs to be made. Long, pompous titles (ala Shai Hulud), don’t automatically make you a thinking man’s band. Maintaining your ideals while thoughtfully articulating them makes you a smart dudes rock outfit. At-least these guys sound authentically pissed, I’d buy it even if rock music is all posturing. Production, as much as posturing, always plays a paramount role in how an album is perceived overall. On this slab, the production fits the music. But the vocals, already unintelligible yelps of disdain, are drowned out regularly by guitar attacks. Troublesome, but fitting. Oddly, I can understand his anger without the words.