Tuesday, July 6, 2010
nothing people
late night 12"
[2009, s-s]
what's in a name? when it comes to this orland, california four-piece, everything, and, obviously, nothing; they mask their personal identities by adopting the appropriate null symbol ø, followed by what i assume are the initials of their first names. their music is just as hard to pin down as they are. i've seen post-punk thrown around in regards to them and, meh, i guess it works (fellow s-s band krysmopompas fit that descriptor more classically), though, with their futurist slant on garage rock and psychedelia (by way of occasional electronic flourishes), maybe
post-modern-punk works better... and i apologize for that. further complicating matters is that they strive to make each of their albums to be individual statements, or as they put it "just another room in the same house". while one can attribute a certain moodiness to their music, there's no doubt that they've lived by that statement: anonymous had a rawer garage-rock feel to it, while their latest, soft crash, adopted a fuller sound with distinct experimental leanings that also came off as fairly straight-forward, somehow. even though that last lp has garnered a good amount of (underground) critical praise (expect it to end up on numerous best of lists this year), late night, to me, is easily their finest release. it has the greatest balance of all of the elements that have shown up throughout their albums, while all also containing the most memorable songs, and vocally it was quite a step up from their debut effort.
the album opener, when i drink, is a modernized take on standard garage rock fare with a heavily distorted guitar providing a meandering solo, which compliments rather than seeming out of place, over the top of its breezy percussion and memorable locked-in guitar melody. the singing style, laid back, cool and semi-conversational, easily takes a back seat to the head nodding melody, since there's no chorus to speak of. the fact that it isn't too involved lyrically, ending with "a kiss from you will last until the sunshine's back", it's hard to think of this as anything other than an intro, despite its three minute length. nevertheless, it's light and enjoyable.
as far as intros go, when i drink is a huge fucking red herring if i've ever heard one. the song that follows it, it's not your speakers, begins with thirty seconds of twisting guitar drone and a terrific drum beat. once that main guitar melody comes in.. for which the song takes its name, holy fuck. i'm in love. memorable doesn't even begin to describe it, it's higher-pitched and barely even sounds like a guitar most of the time. only when it breaks from its groove for drawn out drones do i even remember what the instrument even is. while the vocals on nothing people's first album came across as somewhat dorky, i guess, and usually provided either a cumbersome companion to the music or a stark contrast, that couldn't be farther from the case here. the opening line of the song "she's a painting on the wall that all eyes admire" sounds downright sexy, draped in reverb and issued with an effortlessly cool drawl. the first half of the song nicely retains the lumbering drone riffing, switching it up later to an undistorted solo that compliments the main melody, and then eventually plays its shadow in the coda. this is unquestionably one of my favorite songs from last year.
stick in the mud teaches us that it's best not to expect anything as it differs vastly from the previous songs with a jaunty bassline, toe tappin' faux finger snappin' percussion and waves of segmented guitar riffs that sustain for a little bit, before ending with descending chords, a cycle which continues for the duration. the singing eschews the previous cool demeanor, vacillating between nervous mumbling and a more frantic tone, "i can't stay clean with my stick in the mud, and you can't change the timing of the setting su-uh-huuuun!" one of several intriguing aspects of this band is its approach to songwriting. late night is wrought with seeming half-concepts. guided by voices they're not, but it's remarkable how many of their songs don't really go anywhere. one might say it's style over substance, but i find the style to be the substance. the music here is the engaging constant, without it being as good and interesting as it is everything would fall apart, and it also propels the lyrics, as even the most basic ideas here can come across as poignant, given the right backdrop.
okay, if this album is meant to be one room in a house, someone seriously needs to feng shui this motherfucker, it's all over the place. the delicate guitar melody of the sparse, but gorgeous, pushing buttons is aided by a constant understated strumming, no percussion, beautiful falsetto shoe-gazey vocals and layers of buzzing synthesizer, one of which will rise up into lovely peaks which play into the melody perfectly. after that mood establisher, they'll finally follow it up with something that makes sense, not that i have any complaints to lodge about their sequencing. 1-11 features an acoustic guitar, lots of synth ambiance and backwards electronic touches. not much on its own, but works well as pushing buttons come down piece.
crunch time gets late night back on track, but also doesn't belie the previous two songs' mood. after opening with dual guitars, the secondary one soloing, it soon drops off to highlight another outstanding (tinny sounding) guitar melody that's fractured in the best possible way, and when it plays off of the bass it's nothing short of outstanding. the singing is less treated and comes off really well with its talk-singing style. the guitar solo comes back to serve as the chorus. classic rock taught me to hate guitar solos, but damned if i don't love what this band does with them. love the ending lyric, too, "it's spill time and i get a sick feeling i should leave". this is a good example of the words taking on a deeper meaning when they're surrounded by great music. while some lyrical conceits don't seem fully fleshed out, at times, nothing people do know how to end a song, i'll give them credit for that.
the dark, gurgling synth undulations, music-box chimes and drawn out vocal cooing of there's sun in your eyes turn the song's two minutes into a rather creepy lullaby. nothing sunny about this, whatsoever. in a different setting the vocals could be taken as sweet, but they're almost menacing here.
after that weird detour we get the superb another rattle. to me, this sounds like what the album's cover art (created by chicago artist christopher ilth) looks like. following a false start of playful synthesizer, things quickly get darker, centering around a terrific layer of dirty synth organ and light cymbal percussion. the moodiness of the organ gets a complimentary boost by the detached vocals "on my way to question mark, found my keys, forgotten where i parked". the organ goes from sustained drones to memorably fluid fluctuating tonality. given their fondness for the solo, when a second cleaned up synthesizer comes in to act as a guitar it makes total sense. this song is a rarity in that it actually contains a chorus, and a rather good one at that, "goin' down with the sun today, goin' down... again".
as the album pushes closer toward its conclusion, it gets continually darker and moodier, janet being the apex of all that moodiness. the foundation of it is a great surreal electronic warble, fleshed out by slow, toy drum-like percussion (that takes on a march-like cadence) and what sounds like steam being released from a pipe. an additional synthesizer lurks about in the distance, providing haunting accompaniment. the lyrics are sparse and spaced out throughout the song and go from barely auditory mumbling to unnerving manic fits. despite having, probably less than eight lines of lyrics, it's wholly effective "suede go go boots laced up tight... broke the speed limit.. parked in her drive... cigarette, with lipstick smear.. platinum blonde hair... out to here!" given the darkness of the music and vocals, it's hard to tell if this was an awesome date, or a chilling stalker tale. whatever it is, it's fucking creepy and i love it.
late night ends with its titular track, and of course, it's another curveball. the singing sounds positive enough "...and the way you kiss will always be a very special thing", but it's undermined by a sense of tension crafted by a slowed down siren-like wailing guitar competing with the other guitar's murky melody, with steady cymbal tapping providing the only percussion. the line "inside me i feel, alone and unreal" feels much more appropriate.
this album does nothing in terms of bringing the listener closer to understanding this band, in fact it only furthers their mystery. it does sound incredible, though, and that's all anyone should really care about.
download
since you've been gone (from soft crash)
[2009, s-s]
what's in a name? when it comes to this orland, california four-piece, everything, and, obviously, nothing; they mask their personal identities by adopting the appropriate null symbol ø, followed by what i assume are the initials of their first names. their music is just as hard to pin down as they are. i've seen post-punk thrown around in regards to them and, meh, i guess it works (fellow s-s band krysmopompas fit that descriptor more classically), though, with their futurist slant on garage rock and psychedelia (by way of occasional electronic flourishes), maybe
post-modern-punk works better... and i apologize for that. further complicating matters is that they strive to make each of their albums to be individual statements, or as they put it "just another room in the same house". while one can attribute a certain moodiness to their music, there's no doubt that they've lived by that statement: anonymous had a rawer garage-rock feel to it, while their latest, soft crash, adopted a fuller sound with distinct experimental leanings that also came off as fairly straight-forward, somehow. even though that last lp has garnered a good amount of (underground) critical praise (expect it to end up on numerous best of lists this year), late night, to me, is easily their finest release. it has the greatest balance of all of the elements that have shown up throughout their albums, while all also containing the most memorable songs, and vocally it was quite a step up from their debut effort.the album opener, when i drink, is a modernized take on standard garage rock fare with a heavily distorted guitar providing a meandering solo, which compliments rather than seeming out of place, over the top of its breezy percussion and memorable locked-in guitar melody. the singing style, laid back, cool and semi-conversational, easily takes a back seat to the head nodding melody, since there's no chorus to speak of. the fact that it isn't too involved lyrically, ending with "a kiss from you will last until the sunshine's back", it's hard to think of this as anything other than an intro, despite its three minute length. nevertheless, it's light and enjoyable.
as far as intros go, when i drink is a huge fucking red herring if i've ever heard one. the song that follows it, it's not your speakers, begins with thirty seconds of twisting guitar drone and a terrific drum beat. once that main guitar melody comes in.. for which the song takes its name, holy fuck. i'm in love. memorable doesn't even begin to describe it, it's higher-pitched and barely even sounds like a guitar most of the time. only when it breaks from its groove for drawn out drones do i even remember what the instrument even is. while the vocals on nothing people's first album came across as somewhat dorky, i guess, and usually provided either a cumbersome companion to the music or a stark contrast, that couldn't be farther from the case here. the opening line of the song "she's a painting on the wall that all eyes admire" sounds downright sexy, draped in reverb and issued with an effortlessly cool drawl. the first half of the song nicely retains the lumbering drone riffing, switching it up later to an undistorted solo that compliments the main melody, and then eventually plays its shadow in the coda. this is unquestionably one of my favorite songs from last year.
stick in the mud teaches us that it's best not to expect anything as it differs vastly from the previous songs with a jaunty bassline, toe tappin' faux finger snappin' percussion and waves of segmented guitar riffs that sustain for a little bit, before ending with descending chords, a cycle which continues for the duration. the singing eschews the previous cool demeanor, vacillating between nervous mumbling and a more frantic tone, "i can't stay clean with my stick in the mud, and you can't change the timing of the setting su-uh-huuuun!" one of several intriguing aspects of this band is its approach to songwriting. late night is wrought with seeming half-concepts. guided by voices they're not, but it's remarkable how many of their songs don't really go anywhere. one might say it's style over substance, but i find the style to be the substance. the music here is the engaging constant, without it being as good and interesting as it is everything would fall apart, and it also propels the lyrics, as even the most basic ideas here can come across as poignant, given the right backdrop.
okay, if this album is meant to be one room in a house, someone seriously needs to feng shui this motherfucker, it's all over the place. the delicate guitar melody of the sparse, but gorgeous, pushing buttons is aided by a constant understated strumming, no percussion, beautiful falsetto shoe-gazey vocals and layers of buzzing synthesizer, one of which will rise up into lovely peaks which play into the melody perfectly. after that mood establisher, they'll finally follow it up with something that makes sense, not that i have any complaints to lodge about their sequencing. 1-11 features an acoustic guitar, lots of synth ambiance and backwards electronic touches. not much on its own, but works well as pushing buttons come down piece.
crunch time gets late night back on track, but also doesn't belie the previous two songs' mood. after opening with dual guitars, the secondary one soloing, it soon drops off to highlight another outstanding (tinny sounding) guitar melody that's fractured in the best possible way, and when it plays off of the bass it's nothing short of outstanding. the singing is less treated and comes off really well with its talk-singing style. the guitar solo comes back to serve as the chorus. classic rock taught me to hate guitar solos, but damned if i don't love what this band does with them. love the ending lyric, too, "it's spill time and i get a sick feeling i should leave". this is a good example of the words taking on a deeper meaning when they're surrounded by great music. while some lyrical conceits don't seem fully fleshed out, at times, nothing people do know how to end a song, i'll give them credit for that.
the dark, gurgling synth undulations, music-box chimes and drawn out vocal cooing of there's sun in your eyes turn the song's two minutes into a rather creepy lullaby. nothing sunny about this, whatsoever. in a different setting the vocals could be taken as sweet, but they're almost menacing here.after that weird detour we get the superb another rattle. to me, this sounds like what the album's cover art (created by chicago artist christopher ilth) looks like. following a false start of playful synthesizer, things quickly get darker, centering around a terrific layer of dirty synth organ and light cymbal percussion. the moodiness of the organ gets a complimentary boost by the detached vocals "on my way to question mark, found my keys, forgotten where i parked". the organ goes from sustained drones to memorably fluid fluctuating tonality. given their fondness for the solo, when a second cleaned up synthesizer comes in to act as a guitar it makes total sense. this song is a rarity in that it actually contains a chorus, and a rather good one at that, "goin' down with the sun today, goin' down... again".
as the album pushes closer toward its conclusion, it gets continually darker and moodier, janet being the apex of all that moodiness. the foundation of it is a great surreal electronic warble, fleshed out by slow, toy drum-like percussion (that takes on a march-like cadence) and what sounds like steam being released from a pipe. an additional synthesizer lurks about in the distance, providing haunting accompaniment. the lyrics are sparse and spaced out throughout the song and go from barely auditory mumbling to unnerving manic fits. despite having, probably less than eight lines of lyrics, it's wholly effective "suede go go boots laced up tight... broke the speed limit.. parked in her drive... cigarette, with lipstick smear.. platinum blonde hair... out to here!" given the darkness of the music and vocals, it's hard to tell if this was an awesome date, or a chilling stalker tale. whatever it is, it's fucking creepy and i love it.
late night ends with its titular track, and of course, it's another curveball. the singing sounds positive enough "...and the way you kiss will always be a very special thing", but it's undermined by a sense of tension crafted by a slowed down siren-like wailing guitar competing with the other guitar's murky melody, with steady cymbal tapping providing the only percussion. the line "inside me i feel, alone and unreal" feels much more appropriate.
this album does nothing in terms of bringing the listener closer to understanding this band, in fact it only furthers their mystery. it does sound incredible, though, and that's all anyone should really care about.
download
:: posted by apc, 8:51 PM