Grooveshark gives free grooves
By MARY MANCHESS | Jan. 28, 2009The Internet has opened up new platforms for the musician and music lover.
The Internet has opened up new platforms for the musician and music lover.
Glasvegas takes its name from hometown Glasgow and Sin City, which means that the Scottish quartet has an uncanny knack for haphazardly conjoining words and musical trends. To the surprise of no one, the NME crowd has anointed these Clash look-alikes London's latest and greatest craze du jour as This Month's Beatles manage a sound that pillages from almost every English musical movement of the last three decades. Shoegaze grandeur? Check. Ringing Edge-style guitars? Check. The Smiths' melodrama? Oh yeah, it's there -- most shamelessly in the form of "Lonesome Swan," a hackneyed rip of "I Know It's Over" with a guitar line set to the latter song's "Then why are you on your own tonight?" melody. Particularly grotesque is the Joe Strummer knock-off "Stabbed" that repeats ad nauseam, "I'm gonna get stabbed."
Worlds collide in Castle Donington, England. Devo grows up a punk band; disco hones its chops at CBGB; black leather sprouts sequins. Late of the Pier wears the side effects. A four-piece from the British Isles, the young new wave act shows off all manner of mishmashed influences, piecing together a sound that filters the '80s' choice bits through a laptop, distorts them to hell and discards everything else. This cut-and-paste style makes room for swirling synths, Nintendo-bleep percussion, even Sabbath-lite riff rock ("Heartbeat"). But these secondary players all feed off the band's bread and butter: the almighty groove, which achieves a heightened state in the form of the menacing electro-blast called "Whitesnake." It's a song that unlocks imaginative, other-dimension scenarios - two-steppers take over Studio 54; Madge learns guitar; hipsters dance to power chords.
Streetlight Manifesto, New Jersey's beloved third-wave ska band, will play Wednesday at Common Grounds. The show, which also features A Wilhelm Scream, The Swellers and The Stitch Up, begins at 7 p.m. Tickets are for $14.
JJ Grey loves writing his music, but he thinks it is better when the songs write themselves.
If you've ever been to a wake, you know that death cleans up real nice - velvet casket, crisp new suit, lots of pretty flowers. It's this bizarre phenomenon, the union of darkness and beauty, that Antony takes to haunting extremes with "The Crying Light," a smiling cadaver of an album that opens with the line "Her eyes are underneath the ground" and only gets more frightening from there.
You may think to yourself, "No. Anderson Cooper and Animal Collective have nothing in common." You would be mistaken.
Singer-songwriter Rachel Goodrich isn't fond of planning ahead. She said her debut album, "Tinker Toys," had no direction whatsoever.
Here's a dirty little secret: The All-American Rejects have no backbone. But then neither do lobsters, and they're doing just fine. In "When the World Comes Down," the too-pretty Oklahoma natives pack all the punch of an aging Oscar de la Hoya, but when your clientele is teenage girls - text: omg! Gr8est band ever!!! - substance takes a back seat to confessions like, "There's a part of you that's still inside of me." If you can stomach the gratuitous fluff, the big melodies - "Another Heart Calls," "Believe" - go a long way toward quenching your sugar fix. It's when the guys use their sappy sound to vent ("Gives You Hell") that they run into trouble. Using strings, synths and pretty harmonies to convey pent-up anger? About as believable as Ben Stein the motivational speaker.
Axl Rose spent a fortune in litigation fees suing a guy who leaked these songs on the web. Ironic, right? If the Cornrowed One had released this thing on schedule, he could have sidestepped online piracy altogether. You can't have an "Internet leak" without the Internet.
Because teens still shop at Hot Topic, skinny jeans are recession-proof and Pete Wentz is still the object of many tabloids, Fall Out Boy continues to release products under the this-ship-hasn't-sailed "emo" label. Is this an accurate description of the band's sound? Please. "Folie A Deux" reeks drama, from its meaty, disco-nicking first single "I Don't Care," to the ohh-ohh crammed "She's My Winona," right down to the pretentious song titles - file the song "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes" under 10 Phrases More Preposterous Than "Folie A Deux." Thankfully, as evidenced by lyrics like "Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy," the boys are in on their own joke and pretty much insulated from backlash. Let those of us without tight pants cast the first stone.
In a small village in El Salvador, one man has not left in 10 or 12 years. So much time has passed that he can't remember the last time he left. The nearest stream, which is barely a trickle, is a 10 minute hike over hills and poor health conditions prevent many people in the town of El Limon from leaving.
How about some role play with your rap music? A technique long ago mastered by those cheeky Wu-Tang lads, the tempting habit of cramming one's album with scripted banter and wink-wink inside jokes occasionally sidetracks the Brothers Lindsey. Yet when Al and Krispy focus on the actual songs, the young duo confirm themselves as genre-bending hip-hop impresarios. "Bang! Bang!" would make a devastating TV on the Radio cut as it begins a Matrix-worthy techno rocker before exploding into electric, rhyme-heavy verses. Likewise, side one of "Remind Me" is an exercise in style-mashing precision, but when the half-assed skits creep in during the second half hour, one gets the sense that The Knux could be truly great if they could only consistently answer the classic actor question: What's my motivation?
Bryan Poole, guitarist and singer for the indie-pop band Of Montreal, said the band recorded its latest album with the help of Georgie Fruit, a "64-year-old black she-male who's been in and out of prison a couple times."
Temptations disciple Raphael Saadiq just beat out 007 and ice cubes in a cool contest. His throwback style has more soul than a shoe factory. Soda fountains think this guy has retro down pat. You get the point - the man is fly, and on "The Way I See It," he channels a radiant, doo-wop-era rhythm and blues that tips a suede top hat to Berry Gordy and Phil Spector. "Keep Marchin'" reconnects with the effortless groove of early Motown classics, exuding a lighthearted confidence laced in tambourine percussion and backing falsetto. "Just One Kiss" pops with orchestral flourishes and female harmonies, but neither element matches the zeal of the show-stopping lead vocal. How does one account for Saadiq's silky delivery? Like satin pajamas and other sides of pillows, some things are naturally smooth.
For one Gainesville band, a day in the life involves a walk down Penny Lane, past the strawberry fields, across the universe and back in the U.S.S.R.
The cover art of Valencia's "We All Need A Reason to Believe" features five guys striking contemplative poses in the middle of the desert, no doubt asking themselves, "How can we make our predictable emo shtick appeal to people with ears?" Unfortunately, this fleeting practical thought escaped into the cool evening air, and our skinny-jeaned friends promptly built a ceremonial bonfire to summon the spirit of Pete Wentz. Perhaps taking mushrooms with Vince and Ari would have been a more constructive wasteland endeavor because "Free," "Holiday," "Safe to Say," etc. prove that there are three certainties in life: death, taxes and the shameless pairing of soft, gut-wrenching bridges with loud, bombastic choruses. The sun can't set on this band fast enough.
From the first endearingly fragile a cappella notes of classic "The State I Am In," a bashful Stuart Murdoch symbolically declines an invitation from England's prying radio ears: No thanks, we're staying in today. You see, back in the mid-90's, Belle & Sebastian was the would-be prom queen still too shy and self-aware to realize her own beauty. "The BBC Sessions" dusts off a snapshot of the sleepy collective in their formative years, before Isobel Campbell fell for the bad boy, and when the singer nervously laughed at himself just in case you thought he was a joke. These tracks are unnervingly intimate, even for this band, and that's why this rare look-in is so special - because B&S, a bedroom act if there ever was one, was never meant for the light of day.
Q magazine calls this album "essential," which suggests that Snow Patrol has pictures on the editors of said magazine. The two defining elements about this hook-challenged, wuss-rock are its neutrality - this is the Switzerland of pop music - and "If There's a Rocket Tie Me to It." Great title. "Take Back the City" and "Please Just Take These Photos from My Hands," which have ho-hum titles, are actually peppy, catchy little numbers. "Peppy" and "catchy" cannot otherwise be associated with this record. For those who noticed the inconsistency of this review - a neat line or two scattered amongst sketchy, bland ones - now you know what it's like to listen to "A Hundred Million Suns."
You say you want a revolution, and you got one, Tom Gabel. Now what? If the measure of a good protest album is that it still sounds important when there's not as much to protest, then "Heart Burns" passes with flying red, white and blue colors. Detached from its weighty political agenda, the fearless screamer's solo EP would still rouse a sweaty, brothers-in-arms battle cry, due in no small part to impressive sonic diversity. Opener "Random Hearts" works as a new-wave dance track while the folky "Anna Is A Stool Pigeon" - best line: "Eric fell in love with an FBI informant" - peels back layers of calloused tattoos to reveal a soft side. In these lighter moments, Gabel's message becomes clear: When you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out.