Friday, June 22, 2007


The Knife- Silent Shout

Well, my promise to review albums basically withered and died ever since I've been in a severe depression. And if you've ever been in that kind of situation, you know that you should always wrap your junk when having sex with emo girls! (The alternate joke was going to be about being in a ravine, but then again, who the hell wants to hear about ravines?) Regardless, I am going to make a concerted effort to update more, because frankly my dear, I don't give a damn (about doing anything truely productive!)

The Knife's first album "Deep Cuts," is much more chipper and groovy then this macabre mess. As a result, "Silent Shout" is definitely a contrasting album for The Knife (Who don't like to play live and hate the degradation of women within the music industry). "Silent Shout" is a throbbing synth sprinkling lunar eclipse and is an extremely atmospheric and moody journey considering it is mostly synthesizer accompanied by all manners of SNAKE CHARMING beats. The distorted electro-vocals push the songs along, sung in mostly broken English and I'm assuming a pitter patter of Swede here and there. The vocoded VOCALS are of such great effect that I'm sure if Neil Young could go back and redo Trans with whatever technology these guys use, he probably wouldn't do it, because I think the masters for Trans are buried somewhere in a vault in the heart of the Atlantic Ocean. Trans gets a really bad rap though, considering that I'm sure it's even possible that THE KNIFE might have been influenced by it! So uh, God save the Trans and all that.

The title track, Finding Neverland and One Hit are probably my favorite tracks. They have the most interesting beats (A lot of it reminds me of Idioteque by Radiohead, really, I enjoy schizophrenic techno-wankery!) as well as One Hit having the MALE (Olaf is his Odin-given name, I believe) doing some sort of extremel;y perverse, satanic Cookie Monster vocals. But don't think Cookie Monster in terms of bad death metal, think in terms of TIMBRE and its BASS-LIKE qualities. Every song on this album has an enjoyable hook and its amazing how something that seems so experimental and avant-garde at times can be so damn catchy! (This is a common lament of most catchy, avant-garde music, it seems.) The sheer amount of sonic manipulation on this album, in terms of trying to figure out how the hell The Knife squeezes out so many great sounds out of the synthesizer for the leads of the songs and such will leave you astounded, and the overall bleak, ethereal quality of some of the tracks are quite entrancing. I hesitate to call it Dance-Eno, but for the love of David Byrne (!!!), it certainly seems to have a rather direct Eno influence (Well, that's pretty stupid, this is obvious to everyone.) Anyways, if anyone knows more about this band, feel free to comment, but otherwise, you should get this album. It "deigns to reign." The Knife are probably better then The Kinfe, the Genesis song, but I like both of them much like Mrs. Ramsey loved Jon Benet. I'd kill for either of them, mwa ha ha ha ha!

(Edit: If the formatting is really off, I'm sorry. Blogger is fucking ridiculous when it comes to trying to get stuff to appear properly.)

Rating: I like it more then Deep Cuts! I'm not sure what pitchfork has given this album, but I'll definitely give it a 9 out of 10 or something. Fractions are for sissy cop-out babies.

Download: Silent Shout- The Knife

Saturday, June 16, 2007


The Icarus Line - Penance Soiree

I bought this album when I was 14 years old and I distinctly recall being captivated by the album's very prevalent aura of abrasiveness. Everything from the cover (one of my favorites ever) to the first song being called "Up Against The Wall Motherfuckers" to the pictures of the band members on the back of the CD case, all clad in black and red (but mostly black, of course), with facial expressions that most definitely did not exude good vibes of any sort, to the album being recorded in Hollywood, quite the contribution to the record's smack blasting party atmosphere.

The album made me instantly think of the heaviest and scariest of noise-rock bands I'd heard at that point... Big Black, the Jesus Lizard, Flipper, etc. Thing is, though, I had only heard a few songs from those bands' catalogs, and if you were to ask me to give you the most brutal, barely musical shit that I had, I wouldn't have had a whole lot to work from. Besides the Line's menacing, blow inhaling image, the actual sound of the album is what really took me aback. Because Penance Soiree is a LOUD album. I'm not sure if it's the kind of over-digitized "loudness war" loud that Nick Southall gets so worked up about (and rightly so), but the album definitely has a very in-the-red kind of distortedness to it, in such a way that listening to it on headphones results in feeling a whole lot like the dude on the album cover, the guitars overfuzzed in a manner that is most definitely both head whipping and face smashing. And I wasn't completely unfamiliar with the concept of guitars being distorted to fucking oblivion... I'd heard most of Raw Power and I'd heard the Jesus & Mary Chain (and J&MC followers the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club) and I'd heard her call my name. I was yet to encounter XTRMNTR, the Goslings, Kevin Drumm, and various other music that might strike terror into the hearts of stereo salesmen.

Anyways, fuck. At the time, this was my musical brick to the fucking skull. The Icarus Line were just the most extreme dudes, and Penance Soiree was the most extreme album, noisyass rock 'n roll that harkened back to the pure fucking danger of the Stooges and the Stones. It's the kind of album that comes across as being more badass than all of your other albums, the kind that any lover of "extreme" music is almost guaranteed to love, in the same league as Goat, Fun House, White Light/White Heat, Spacemen 3, Songs About Fucking, Suicide, early Napalm Death... just totally defining what it is to appreciate the presence of violence in music. In fact, I'm pretty sure I first saw this album championed by a poster on the Sound Opinions Message Board who appreciates such violence moreso than probably any music listener I have ever encountered.

One small thing about the album, though: I just wish it was better. I've read a lot of on-the-money sentences about this record, and an uncomfortable amount of those things tend to lean towards the "negative" side, the most poignant being Sam Ubl's suggestion that "[i]f rock 'n' roll had nothing to do with music and everything to do with attitude, the Icarus Line would be the greatest fucking band" and Jon Garrett's declaring of the band as one that he should like "in theory, yet can't write songs to save their lives." Yet even a more glowingly positive remark like Tiny Mix Tapes's suggestion that Penance Soiree is "2004's Source Tags & Codes (only it's about 100x better)" gets even further to the root of why this album doesn't quite do it for me.

On Source Tags & Codes, Trail of the Dead utilized a major label budget in order to craft a completely epic fucking all-out realization of their potential as a band. And that's more or less what the Icarus Line did here. The record definitely sounds great (compared to the somewhat thin Jesus Lizard ripoff Mono) and as TotD's album was this sort of post-hardcore tour de force, blending Fugazi, Gravity Records, Unwound, Drive Like Jehu, At The Drive-In, and countless others into what is quite the sweepingly cinematic (and in such a way that simply doesn't let me avoid using this word) masterpiece, Penance Soiree does the same with, uh, 35 or so years of the most dirtyass rock 'n roll imaginable.

Only problem is that too many of the songs don't quite live up to just how fucking badass this album and band appear to be. Saying that they "can't write songs to save their lives" is a bit harsh, since "Up The Against The Wall Motherfuckers" completely fucking crushes, and does so with actual purpose (thanks to a downright throat drilling bassline), and the second track "Spit On It" succeeds exceptionally well in being a brief, no-bullshit, neck snapping punker. On a similarly positive note, "Spike Island" is another standout, as it tones down the guitar bombast for a sexier, groovier brand of swagger. Then there's a really long song in the middle of the album called "Getting Bright At Night" that thankfully manages to make good developmental use of its nine minute running time. Oh, yeah, and the last song rules. "Party The Baby Off," it's called. The chorus/hook is "take off all your clothes." It certainly manages to "party the baby off," I'd say.

Those were the songs that stood out to me as a 14 year old music listener, and revisiting the album recently, their appeal certainly hasn't waned. It's the rest of the album that just breaks my fucking heart. So many of these other songs are just fucking dead. I should like them, shouldn't I? Of course. But even the single "On The Lash" has very little going for it as far as any distinguishing qualities that might drive one to identify it as standing out from the vast breadth of rock music. Sure, it rocks, but well, that's about it! And unfortunately, despite the fact that the Icarus Line is a band full of utter badasses whose music is clearly loud and makes me want to do lots and lots of heroin, they can't really get by on just rocking as hard as possible. The Jesus Lizard did that on Liar, yet it still worked despite the songs not being quite as mind-blowingly good as those on Goat because the Lizard had a distinct, original sound that they could work from. Penance Soiree, despite a few great songs, is still a derivative-ass album, so when the songs aren't quite there, it all ends up seeming like not much more than boring old confrontational rock posturing. A song like "White Devil" starts out with a cool, slow, bluesy guitar line, ends with some awesome Fun House-style saxophone, and in between, there's absolutely nothing to grasp or hold onto, nothing to really make it stand above the rest of the songs in any way (except the fact that it's slower than the other ones. WOW!)

This is such a pity and oh, it's such a shame. Even at 14, upon constructing a year end list, I had to leave this record off because so much of it just didn't do shit for me, didn't grab me the way great pop music should (and the way a good four or five songs on here most definitely do.) It has so many workings of an all-out masterpiece, yet as a rock record, the central element behind its success as an album should be the songs, and that's where they really managed to fall short. Tragic. They have a new album coming out in a couple weeks. I can't imagine it will have the sort of epic scope that makes Penance Soiree so alluring (and in the end, disappointing), but who knows, maybe they've upped it in the songwriting department. Maybe not. Maybe they'll never amount to anything truly special beyond being "almost there" in 2004.

Rating: Not a great album, sorry. A fascinating one? Definitely. It has its moments... just not enough of them.

Song: "Spit On It"



Thursday, June 14, 2007


Wipers - Youth of America

Hello, again. Last night I wrote a review of this album. I referenced the review in a review that I wrote of Life Without Buildings's Any Other City this very evening.

Well, turns out that my post of that review was actually an edit of this Wipers review! Fuck! So I deleted my awesome Youth of America review. Let's sum that shit up, then. For your enjoyment:

1) Youth of America is awesome.

2) The title track is ten minutes long or some crap! It starts out with this awesome double tracked guitar line, and then it just goes, goes, goes on this one chord while Greg Sage just melts your fucking face off with great gobs of guitar noise.

3) The drumming on here is really neat. It reminds me a lot of Anton Fier's drumwork on the Feelies' Crazy Rhythms. Really driving and propulsive, but not played with a whole lot of force, which significantly increases the amount of tension in the beat.

4) The "guitar solo" in "When It's Over" rules so hard. It's just the most brutal screeching noises ever, and they fucking cut your balls off, they're so good. Dick whippingly good.

5) This is pissed off, angry music, but it ain't your ordinary 1981 punk rock. Don't think "Oi! Oi!" skinheads or The Decline of Western Civilization. Think of the bands from that time that were really doing something different. Flipper, Big Black, the Minutemen, whatever the fuck. As much as a dig a lot of straight ahead punk rock, that's the kind of shit that gets me going.

6) Not everything on here is an epic guitar JAM in the style of Phish or the String Cheese Incident. The shorter, poppier things on here rule! Especially "Taking Too Long." It's in 6/4 time! Interesting pop music tricks! Hey!

7) The debut Is This Real? was one hell of a solid punk rock album, but man, this is where Greg Sage realized his unique vision of completely fucking awesome electric guitar transcendence.

8) His guitar playing style is fucking cool, too. A lot more subtle than that of an obvious Sage follower like J. Mascis, whose guitarwork is known for its presence of a much more blatant sort of "guitar soloing." You know, like, "HEY, I'M GONNA SHRED YOUR FACE OFF WITH BALLS OUT NOTES GALORE RIGHT NOW, ENJOY." Sage just whips his fiery cock out and shoves it into your eye sockets until you shit yourself because this album is so fucking good.

Rating: Sorry if you missed the original piece and don't like to read record reviews in list format! This is just what it all came down to. Anyways, to reward you for your efforts...

Song: ...here's the whole fuckin' thing! Enjoy!



Tuesday, June 12, 2007


Life Without Buildings - Any Other City

Remember when I reviewed Wipers' Youth of America last night? I'm listening to it right now. It's seriously fucking awesome. Everybody just remember that my album recommendations are generally seriously fucking awesome. I don't just serve you up some bullshit. These jams are the real deal, let me tell you, the serious shit. You want the best and I know where you can get it. If you'd only listen. And you do.

Hey, what's up? Remember back in 2005 when Art Brut completely fucking turned your world around with their brand of fiery post-punk guitar rock and quirky Mark E. Smith-recalling sing/speak vocals? Well, then you'll love climbing inside of this time machine (penis) of mine and travelling back to the year 2000 when Life Without Buildings was the talk of the British music press and not just some band that nobody even remembers or gives a fuck about seven years later.

Oh my god, it's the guitar solo in "When It's Over" that I was talking about that one time. Christ, I was so fucking on-the-money about that one, remember? Still am.

Anyways, Life Without Buildings. What do (or did) they sound like? Art Brut is a good comparison, I think, except while the Brutes (lol) are much more of a BALLS OUT RAWK outfit, Life Without Buildings don't necessarily make me want to jump around the stage like Jasper Future did at that festival when I saw them that one time. There are no distorted guitars on here! A lot of it rocks, but the guitar tones are clean and shimmering. The guitar guy plays a lot of lovely major chords with pretty little notes and things, but it's not boring like the kind of non-descript "indie" guitar music that you hear between NPR segments. Remember when Pitchfork reviewed Bang Bang Rock & Roll and was like, "These guys don't play riffs, they play licks!" Remember how you didn't know what the fuck they were talking about? Well, listen to this shit, mang, because this shit just sparkles, holmes. Shit's downright coruscating (that's right.) I always assumed there were two guitarists, but no, it's just one dude! He's just playing a lot of cool shit. I really like guitars, by the way.

Another thing! The singer here is a broad! Hey! Remember how everybody hated Art Brut because the singer was annoying? Well, this singer is just as annoying, if not more. You'd better like British or Scottish or whatever nationality chicks joyously yelping exclamations like, "EXCLUSIVELY EXCLOOOOOSIVEEEEE!!!!" or "UH-ZOOMUHZOOMUHZOOMUHZOOMUHZOOMUHZOOM" or "MAH LIPS ARE SEALEDDDD!!!!!!!! MAH LIPS ARE SEALEDDDDD!!!!! HUHWAUH!!!!!" I'm serious, this is some joyous fucking shit. Sue Tompkins fills my heart with glee with her delightful vocal hooks of hyperactive girly NRG.

I love this album. There are so many cute little guitar licks and cute little vocalisms throughout this fuckin' thing... so damn good. It's really just beautiful indie pop, but it's got the rocking qualities of our friend post-punk. Like early Talking Heads or something. Unless you don't think they were post-punk. But I mean, dorky shit like Television, XTC, the Feelies, the Soft Boys, whatever. You know, geeky guitar music for awkward males to enjoy. Except we get the lovely boy/girl juxtapositions of say, Blonde Redhead or Swirlies or something. And while that might seem sexist, you gotta admit that whether you're the Delgados or My Bloody Valentine or whomever, you earn this sort of untouchable cool for having a broad in the band. It's like, totally INDIE POP, or whatever. No band is "indie pop" unless they have a broad in there, that's what I say.

Rating: I'm listening to "Philip" from this album. Jesus christ, this song is good enough for me to give it a 100/10. And you should, too. That's right, start your own review site and review this shit and give it a 100/10 because it's just that good because I said so.

Song: "Let's Get Out"... this here is one of the five or so songs that make me happier than anything, seriously. Serious jamz.



Monday, June 11, 2007


Von Südenfed - Tromatic Reflexxions

At this moment in time, I'm about 97% sure that the new Fall album completely fucking blows. Get this one instead.

It's basically Mark E. Smith talking over fun little electronic ditties constructed by Mouse on Mars. Pitchfork will probably give it a 7.3 or something... OH SHIT, you know what just happened? I wasn't sure whether or not they had actually reviewed the album, so I went over to the P-Fork site, see, just for a little fact checkin', see, and lo and behold, you need to type in the umlauts to get results for these guys. And they gave the album a 7.0! Off by .3, yeah, but fuck, am I good.

Anyways, that's about what this album is. A solid 7.0. It's not bad by any means, but in the end, the record isn't exactly much more than, well, Mark E. Smith talking over fun little electronic ditties constructed by Mouse on Mars. Not too many completely revelatory hooks or anything like that. Perfectly pleasing to listen to, though.

In 1997, the Fall released an album called Levitate that presented the very ESSENCE of Mark's skewed, incomprehensible vision as IDM/breakbeat/electronica whatever. Mark produced it himself, see, so the studio effects and edits and things like that are all just totally fucking out there, like This Heat or Meet The Residents or something. The songs ruled, too... some of the best of MES's career. The songs on Tromatic Reflexxions aren't as good as the ones on that album, and the production, regardless of how much one enjoys Audiotacker or other Mouse on Mars albums, isn't that much more or less exciting than your average music with bleeps and bloops and beatz or whatever.

Hey, fuck, remember when I was talking about Pitchfork eariler? They do this thing where they'll review an album like the new Pissed Jeans, give it some 8.something grade, and throw it under "recommended," and fuck, you know, where were they for Shallow? They never even reviewed the damn thing! And it's a lot better than this new one, and thanks to Pitchfork (and to the occasionally amazing genre of scuzzy Scratch Acid-inspired noise rock being fairly off their radar), the overbearing rock canon may or may not just completely forget about it, and that's mighty unfortunate! I mean, sure, realistically, it's not likely that Hope For Men is going to become some fuckin' Daydream Nation level acclaimed masterpiece, but man, where the fuck was P-Fork when these guys actually served up a classic, huh? The same thing happened with the Knife! For three years, no one gave a fuck about Deep Cuts, this brilliant fucking pop record, and then suddenly Silent Shout is the Album of the Year. Such bullshit.

Rating: When all is said and done, this album is a side project that maybe amounts to slightly more than the sum of its parts... but not much more. Just a pleasant little thing. More than half the time of this review that was actually spent talking about the album in question is just saying the exact same thing in two different parts of the review. How about this for high concept journalism. Fuck you.

Song: "Fledermaus Can't Get Enough"... the first song. And it's the best one, too.