Author: Dylan Summers

The powers to be (a.k.a. the internet…) describes San Franciscan group, Weekend, as lo-fi shoegaze. I guess that means that while listening to their new album one might be most compelled to sway their shoulders side to side with chin against chest and eyes at the ground. Do not let the genre classification be the only basis of what to expect from new album, Jinx. Instead of head down swaying, this album demands a little more motion. With high energy and resounding soundscapes, Jinx is definitely a great production. Its sound can fill even the largest of spaces and evokes images of a deep-space-like, echoic atmosphere (even though such a thing is technically a contradiction.) Needless to say, Jinx is a wonderfully well-balanced  and intriguing piece of work.

For a glimpse of the expanse Jinx inhabits, tune into track track three, “Celebration, Fl.” Its pulsating snares coupled with reverb-obsessed vocals and instrumentation are on point. They ebb and flow like they should, compelling the listener to come back for a second or third listen. Moreover, the track is an excellent taste of Jinx on a whole. Following “Celebration, Fl” comes “Sirens” and again a listener might feel a nearly overwhelming sense of spacial sound. The electronic timbre fills your headphones with a comforting drone which proves almost meditative. And if that is not enough to sway you, turn an ear to track eight, “Rosaries.” It is this track where you will find a certain reminiscence you might expect from spinning your favorite Tears for Fears album. A guitar rhythm marches on as a epic drones and fleeting vocals create a visual arrangement of imagined color and shapes.

All together, Jinx is without a doubt relaxing yet, impulsively, it demands an uncontrollable notion to move. The production of the album is perfectly lo-fi which creates a uniquely intriguing electronic texture. It is obvious Weekend utilizes the studio to their advantage, applying it as another instrument. My opinion–as you most likely could have already guessed–pick up a copy of Jinx. It will fill that void for new electronic shoegaze that you have been sorely lacking for some time now. And if shoegaze is just not your style, give it a try anyway. You may be surprised how the genre can be interpreted.

New from two-year-old group, Autoheart, comes Punch. Now, before we get started, it is important to keep in mind that as a reviewer one must be critical. If each review spoke volumes of the album in question opinions would hold no merit and taste culture would simply not exist. Furthermore, keeping in consideration that taste varies from listener to listener, if one were to ask my honest opinion of the twelve-track compilation from London indie-rockers Autoheart I would respond with one culminating word: alright. Truth be told, the album is too long for the style and themes on which it elaborates. For the style of the music–that being relatively generic indie-pop–the length of each song is simply exasperating. With one full listen, the album draws on much too long. Each successive track does not especially vary from the one before it and, frankly, the textures of the vocals and instruments hardly changes. Albeit, the songs have catchy elements and the production of the album is on point but, at the end of the day, it has very little staying power. The collection lacks a certain spice; there are few alluring facets setting it apart from other indie-acts like it.

Taking this all with a grain of salt, the one track that does jump out (at least for my ear) is track eight, “Hung Over in the City Dust.” Overall, the composition is intriguing and the ascension of the piano is pleasing to the ear. The vocals, too, amount to something notable and the lyrics hold their fair share of weight. Overall, it is well-executed–my only criticism being that it is just too long being the better part of five minutes long. There is something to be said about a song that knows how to end. Another decent track would be track one, “Anniversary.” It is a pretty accessible track which sticks out when first listened to. It does well in setting the precedent for the rest of the album.

Overall, I am honestly excited to hear how Autoheart grows from Punch. Having only been around since 2011, the young rockers have much to build on. My guess is that although Punch is not necessarily a masterpiece, it sets a decent pace for things to come. I’ll be very interested to see how the artists of Autoheart evolve.

It really is cool how the music scene has seen a major resurgence of the electro-pop genre. And before you ask: no, I am not talking about the ever-expanding world of electronic dance music and, no, I am not referring to the bubblegum pop music you hear on the radio that employs electronic element. What I am speaking of is a contemporary revival of the ’80s, to put it simplest. Like some of the albums I have recently reviewed, Part Time’s PDA is a blast from the past. It’s textures are reminiscent of Tears For Fears, the rhythms evoke similarities with Yaz’s Upstairs at Eric’s, and the vocals remind one nearly of Spandau Ballet. To hear the type of tunage you would expect from 1986 in 2013 is a trip but no one is complaining.

As you have probably already gathered from the introduction of this review, PDA is a great contemporary interpretation of a somewhat neo-classic style of electronic music-making. On a whole, Part Time does well in adapting traditional elements such as the electric guitar, bass, drums, vocals, synthesizer, etc. and uniquely blend them with techniques both new and old. They are without a doubt here and now in terms of musicality, conveying themes particular to 2013 but in ways that at first are somewhat implicit. There is no defining factor that sets Part Time’s style apart from thirty years ago–hell, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long. But with a careful listen, you can here the subtleties that place PDA firmly in the 2010s.

For an example, tune to lead-off track, “I Want to Go.” It is with this song which one could get a feel for the album on whole–a great precursor of the new take on a classic style which PDA brings to the table. Yet another example (and a not-too-shabby track itself) is title tack “PDA.” It’s fun, balanced, and a great effort from the Part Time.

Moreover, PDA is quite interesting and quite frankly a meaningful dedication to a seemingly dead breed of music. There are more and more synth-pop acts surfacing and Part Time is among the few that respectively execute it.

Would you look at that! Another album from Norwegian feel-gooders Kakkmaddafakka. It’s 2013, it’s summertime, and the album is called Six Months is a Long Time. Putting aside the notion that six months is not actually that long you can find solace in the fact that the newest catalogue from Kakkmaddafakka is fun and bubbly. Summertime music should be easy-going, uncomplicated, and pleasingly melodic. Needless to say, Six Months is a Long Time fulfills all your summer anticipation.

If it’s a single that is short, catchy and easy to repeat look to second track, “Someone New.” A light and groovy guitar is matched with poppy and clear vocals. Give the song a few listens and you are sure to sing along from then on. Try singing it with a friend and the ‘wooos’ will be fun to harmonize and make your own. For another easy and quick number seek-out track seven, “No Song.” The chorus is just bubbly enough to please and not enough to upset. It’s stubbornly balanced and a little angsty. Immediately following “No Song” comes “Female Dyslexia” and again the pop textures make for an easy toe-tapper and head-bopper. The lyrics pertaining to boozing and tom-foolery make it an appropriate anthem for summer shenanigans.

For something a little different from the other pop tracks, first turn the page to “Gangsta No More.” The reggae elements are great break among the otherwise poppy notion Six Months is a Long Time. Honestly, it is not the type of reggae that will not knock your socks off with a chill vibe but the off-beat is a great change of pace. Lastly, if sentimentality is your scene seek out track four, “Forever Alone.” Slow and steady, smooth and sweet, heartfelt and lonesome, it is a track to close your eyes to.

Overall, Kakkmaddafakka does not surprise with their new album. Instead, they provide a solid service to pop lovers everywhere who are tired of the bubblegum that plays on the radio. Pop is a generally easier medium but to do it right takes some skill. Six Months is a Long Time is arguably a decent try and you cannot discount a genuine effort.

What more can be said about Mavis Staples? She has pretty much lived the American experience down to the finer details. She was close with Martin Luther King, Jr., she’s rocked the stage with the likes of Bob Dylan, Booker T. and the MGs, and Ray Charles, and hip hop artists of every style and background sample her voice to no end. Ms. Mavis is without a doubt a staple of American music (excuse the dreadful pun…).

This time around, with the One True Vine–in the futuristic age of the 2010s far from the Civil Rights Movement and Bob Dylan’s dominance of the late ’60s–Staples does not fall short. Her contemporary ten-track album is an instant classic. Her voice stills soothes and cures most mental maladies. Her sound is original and unyielding, reminding a listener of the historically rich tradition of Americana. Needless to say, it is incredibly refreshing that despite all the musical evolution and sonic revolutions that have accumulated our modern era there are still artists like Staples holding the torch for to light their own way–the way they have pursued since the beginning. Much has happened since your first self-titled issue in 1969, Ms. Staples, but no one has forgotten your name.

For a quick taste of the quality of One True Vine, look no further than the last and title track, “One True Vine.” Smooth and emotional, Staples delivers her thanks to an exasperated love. Her voice is as clean as ever, although you may not have thought it possible. For a little more energy and a little less sentimentality, tune into “Far Celestial Shore.” It is this track where classic Staples gospel makes its lasting imprint. A guitar rhythm lays down miles of track to ground the ever-proceeding faith of Mavis Staples. She is neither obtrusive or pushy with her religiosity. She is simply passionate. For a great piece of classic Rhythm and Blues, blare the low register track “Can You Get to That.” Regardless of what you are seeking for, however, One True Vine should be approachable for any conscientious music lover. One must tip their hat to such a force as Mavis Staples whether or not one cherishes her style.

Of all the genres we hear on the radio these days it seems that neo-Americana is quite popular. Employing classic acoustic sound paired with story-like lyrics renders a theme that prevails amongst most contemporary popular music. With that said, it is somewhat difficult to find a group of artists who execute a quality form of such a musical endeavor. Rest assured, with their new release, This is How I Let You Down, The Franklin Electric has supplied a decent pop-folk album for 2013.

This is How I Let You Down marches along with an acoustic guitar element, clean and classic piano keys, uncomplicated drum tracks, floating brass textures, and a smooth voice with equally smooth and well-written words. The best way to describe the mood one feels when listening to the ten-track package from the Canadians, The Franklin Electric, is that it leaves you relaxed and fulfilled. The sound of the album is perpetual and builds up to settle back down again with a seamless and gentle landing. The tracks are neither abrasive nor do they make a listener cringe with angst. Quite appropriately, the smooth timbre of This is How I Let You Down does well to smooth over rough edges. Especially of note when considering the general feeling of This is How I Let You Down is the careful and quiet crooning of lead singer Jon Matte. Matte’s voice is an undoubtedly pleasant force and creates the skeleton of the album.

Moving on, the music of This is How I Let You Down is neither explicitly happy or sad. They ebb and flow between contemplative and semi-morose with tracks such as the title track, “This is How I Let You Down,” while other tracks simply suggest a steady foot tap and a sing-along like the final track, “Old Piano.” The balance between appreciation of regretful happenstances and a persistence to learn and adapt to life’s adversity sets the stage for the new album. To get a feel for this, tune into tracks eight and nine, “I Can’t Change Your Mind” and “Show me the Quiet Air.” Paired together, they paint a decent picture of the overall feeling of The Franklin Electric of 2013.

It was 1997 when Stephin Merritt released his first album under the name Future Bible Heroes, Memories of Love. In June of 2013 it is a brand-new thirteen track collection entitled Partygoing. For the most part, the album is most appropriately a testament to musical tradition of the ’80s. Partygoing is another one of those albums that suggest ’80s synth pop never really died. And convincingly, at that. Groovy and poppy synth rhythms make way to David Bowie references, drawling and dark lyrics, digital warps, and echoic subdued blomps.

Of the features that stand out about Partygoing, the particular effort on the vocals and lyrics are that ones that do the most. Partygoing definitely has an overall theme and a wonderful flow about it. And yes, it refers to partying. But it does it in a creative way. It plays on the darkness of the act of partying. It shines a light on the dismal nature of partying and how spiritually destructive it can become. It is not a depressing album–just serious; genuine. Right away, the album begins with “A Drink is Just the Thing,” which manifests notions of uncomfortably functioning alcoholism. Slow and morose, the texture of the instrumentation is sloppy and the track ends abruptly. Then, “Sadder than the Moon,” comes next, highlighting a very deep sense of loneliness. Obviously the depression from affliction has set in. The rest of the album seems to spike and descend from artificial yet seemingly innocent happiness brought on by a life of indulgence (i.e. “Drink Nothing But Champagne”) to the admission of guilt with an equal dose of apathy and desire to end (i.e. “Keep Your Children in a Coma”).

Overall, the music is wonderfully light-hearted while the lyrics and the themes are undoubtedly dark. With these elements juxtaposed together, Partygoing is rendered a unique piece of work. It is no doubt refreshing to still see the concept album as viable and interesting way of making an album. In the end, Partygoing is not only a great, new theme-album, but it is also an album of wonderful melodies and rhythm.

Perhaps we could describe The Limousines as a contemporary rehash of ’80s synth-pop consisting of one part Wham!, one part Yaz, and a whole spattering of chic, sunglasses-at-night, open shirts, leather jackets, etc style that we last saw with George Michael before his unfortunate (and yet silly to today’s social standards) bathroom mishap. Seriously, when you see Giovanni Giusti and Eric Victorino in their element  you cannot help but feel as though you’ve been transplanted into an era consisting of multicolored everything and spacious musical timbre without chest-rattling bass drops buzzing your head until it’s numb. No, instead the San Francisco natives are part of a neo-pop-indietronica movement we seem to be witnessing with other contemporary acts such as The Shout Out Louds or Matt and Kim.

If you ask me, it is nice to see a trace piece of the ’80s holding dearly to the contemporary era. It’s been 25 odd years since the beginnings of synth-pop and needless to say, The Limousines have done well to facilitate the degenerating genre’s rebirth. Hush is complete with spacious sound, echoing rhythms, tolerably whiny boy-voices, low-fidelity synth elements and an entirely danceable countenance.

Might I suggest spinning track number seven, “Undercover,” for starters. Out of the thirteen other tracks, “Undercover” seems to be the finest fusion of prior notions and current trend. It employs the same musical textures one might hear from Yaz’s Upstairs at Eric’s but uniquely manifests its own identity, maintaining a new and original feel. The wavy rhythm swings in and out, forcing head movement and the insatiable need to keep time. For an all-classic feel, the lead-off track, “Love is a Dog from Hell,” is deliciously poppy. It undoubtedly sets the pace for the rest of the album and is playable for about four consecutive listens before it becomes only kind of stale.

In the end, Hush is a great album for fun, easy-going living. The bouncey synth elements and the precise execution of decent pop make it extremely accessible for nearly all listeners as well as pleasing the palate of an eclectic music lover. Hush probably will not garner a rousing approval by people whose voices “matter,” but regardless, it is a solid compilation and deserves an hour of attention, at least.

From lo-fi punk-rockers, Dirty Fences, comes a brand-spankin’-new album. And it’s a debut record at that. Listening to Too High to Kross is a lot like dabbling in 1970s pop punk. It is neither a themed album nor does it wow the listener with virtuosity. It is neither a distinctly artsy production nor does it seem to demand a certain sophisticated ear to listen to. What it does do is fills your headphones with classic notions of punk-rock with a contemporary flavor. Relatively fast rhythms textured by distorted guitar and a walking bass to boot is wonderfully matched with gravelly anthem vocals. Needless to say, Too High to Kross seems to be instantly-classic contemporary album Green Day never had.

For a quick sample of Too High to Kross, start the album from the top with “Kilsythe.” It is this catchy track which best accumulates and packages the sound that Dirty Fences has brought to the scene. Sweet and melodic, vintage and contemporary it is a wonderful re-imagining of an otherwise embarrassing genre, pop-punk. Today, punk has become an amorphous amalgamation of variability–which is definitely a good thing. Indeed, most pop-punk has become intolerable to most. With that said, it is quite refreshing to hear the genre as it once predominantly was in Dirty Fences’ Too High to Kross. Other great pieces of classic punk from Too High to Kross include the speedier and hoppy, “Meet Me at the Door”s and the equally fun track number two, “All I want.”

The one and only criticism of Too High to Kross is that, at times, it can seem a little repetitive. At times, the listener can become weary of the similar structure of each song, being simple, fast, and energetic. But punk is punk and the fact of the matter is Dirty Fences does it damn well. All in all, if it is a journey of an album you are searching for–an album which ebbs and flows in and out of different styles and traditions–this is not the album for you. However, if you are looking for raw, grimey, dive-bar-suiting, Friday-night-worthy, well-whisky-whipped tunes then Too High to Kross is the record for you.