Logos - Atlas Sound

Logos

Atlas Sound
Kranky Records.

SCQ Rating: 76%

In a recent Pitchfork interview, Bradford Cox disclosed some of his record-making habits; one in particular being that he always records the first and last track before settling into the disc’s in-between material. I found this relation baffling, seeing as how Logos’ icebreaker and clean-up hitter differ so greatly. Structurally, mood and quality-wise, ‘The Light That Failed’ and ‘Logos’ couldn’t be more bipolar; the opener is a shambling warm-up, pretty and self-indulgent, while the closer trolleys through warbling keys and golden-age percussion, like Johnny Cash drunk through a vocoder. How these compositions were recorded back-to-back, I’m unsure - unless Cox was defining his contrast limits - but it illustrates nonetheless the eclectic nature of Logos, a sophomore that triumphs and treads thin with its varied approach.

Revisiting the hazy guitar-work of Cox’s best virtual 7”’s and online EP’s, ‘An Orchid’ properly sets the wheels in the rails with an aching lullaby sung with angelic timbre. When the riffs get tighter (albeit in that loose, Velvet Underground manner) in ‘Sheila’ or fall into rustic disarray on ‘Attic Lights’, Atlas Sound proves unquestionably Cox’s most devastating alias, resolved to personal clairvoyance through art-damaged experimenting. And while nothing here sounds as though it belongs outside the Bradford Cox canon (besides, perhaps, the summertime anthem ‘Walkabout’ with Panda Bear), Logos bears a distinctly organic sound that Let the Blind Heal Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel warded off to B-side status. There remain ample injections of bedroom-pop atmospherics on ‘Washington School’ and ‘Quick Canal’ (which despite boasting Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier on vocals, still sounds like an ambitious remix of ‘Quarantined’), but Cox’s interest in understated acoustics and refined electronics (the must-hear ‘Kid Klimax’) renders Logos the more mature, less abrasive record.

Logos’ few lackluster moments aren’t as apparent as those that diluted Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel; instead tracks like ‘My Halo’ and ‘The Light That Failed’ are merely shrug-worthy gaps between noteworthy songs. As a whole, this even-keel makes the record easier to digest in one sitting than its predecessor, even if Atlas Sound’s debut owns the better highlights. Cox has never been so at odds with Atlas Sound’s niche, allowing it to breach its electronic birthright and wander rock and roll’s playground (possibly at the expense of now-on-hiatus Deerhunter). While not as flagrant and personal as his much-loved prior work, Logos is a better indication of both Cox’s matured outlook and his promising future as a songwriter – with or without the band.

Virtual 7" and EPs - Atlas Sound

Virtual 7" - Vol. 4

Atlas Sound
Independent.

SCQ Rating: 73%

Most of Atlas Sound's non-Kranky output can be categorized into two camps; the first being a lush electronic bed of warm fuzz and sterile melodies, the second being a humid exposition of distorted glam guitar and Lou Reed drawls. 'Holiday', the lead song of this 7", certainly falls into the latter category, strutting the night sidewalks like 'Activation' but surprisingly better thanks to Cox's cheeky delivery. Although Atlas Sound's debut is one of my favourite records this year because of those complex digital collages, I wouldn't complain in the least if his follow-up was chocked full of these aching guitar jams.

'S.S.C.' swallows the momentum of 'Holiday' completely, introducing us to a wasteland of awkward percussion and burnt-out vocals. Even so, at over six minutes, this track might find you nodding your head in hypnotic refrains if it doesn't drive you insane or bored first. As the newest entry in Atlas Sound's Virtual 7" collection, Vol. 4 marks a middle ground: 'Holiday' is Cox in top form while 'S.S.C.', for all of its aimlessness, still shows Atlas Sound pushing its boundaries and looking for a third sonic camp.







Virtual 7" - Vol. 3

Atlas Sound
Independent.

SCQ Rating: 83%

A dying drum machine sets the robotic waltz pace of 'Bored Dub', a romantic slow-burner that finds Cox the feather-lite crooner, stating simply "I was so bored with my life / the way things were". Reverb heavy guitar chimes like an angel choir over his half asleep delivery, which gradually multiplies into several vocal loops, each more serene and hypnotic than the last. 'Bored Dub', while not fitting well onto Let the Blind Lead Those..., is an ideal example of Atlas Sound's blog releases; drugged out, spacey, well-rounded and damn sexy.

When 'No Longer's electronic clicks sputter to life, Cox gives us one of his finest bedroom-pop instrumentals. It's repetition makes it sound simple, but the layers overlap as its running-time progresses, leading to a zone-out where guessing how long 'No Longer' actually is might be difficult.








Requiem To All the Lonely Teenagers With Passed Out Moms 7"
Atlas Sound
Independent.

SCQ Rating: 75%

Yeah, this one actually exists in physical space; I own it! Found it for sale at their merch table after they'd displayed a blistering performance in its honour (at my request!!), and wasted no time in scooping it up. 'RTATLTWPOM' is sensational, it's lethargy perfect for both Cox's lyrical content and the eerie atmospheres, provided by an old keyboard, reminiscent of that same otherworldly spin that made the Cure's 'All Cats Are Grey' so dreamy.

'Cobwebs', on the flipside, is less coherent; a violent reaction to the peace and submission of its counterpoint. All cluttered percussion and distorted vocals, this B-side reduces the impact of the collectors item a bit but contains all the yang to the A-side's ying. Check it out to hear the opposing styles of Atlas Sound.

(No picture was available for this 7" and since my copy is nowhere nearby, I've included the cover of Amsterdam Midi EP.)

**Atlas Sound Concert Review**

Atlas Sound
Horseshoe Tavern
Toronto, ON
February 28th, 2008.


Bradford Cox pulled across the Canadian border last Thursday with his Atlas Sound band in tow to support his solo debut Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel. When I first heard teases for the record, I was excited for Cox’s laptop compositions mixed with some organic instrumentation, but once word spread about his tour band (featuring Adam Forkner of White Rainbow and Honey Owens of Valet), I knew I couldn’t miss this show.

Emily and I arrived halfway through Valet’s set and found her droning rock and whispered vocals appropriate for the surprisingly laid-back crowd. First off, the Horseshoe was still half empty; something we didn’t expect after arriving an hour and a half after doors opened. Secondly, much of the crowd who had braved the weather to come out were sitting on the floor, a good few yards from the stage. Even Forkner, immediately recognizable with long dark hair and closed eyes, was lying flat on the floor. We settled into the end of Valet’s set, crossed-legged next to Forkner, and warmed up to her washes of sound perforated by Brian Foote on electronics and Bradford himself on the drum-kit.

Next up was White Rainbow, who explored the stage by striking individual drums then looping it, creating a live-off-the-floor rhythm from nothing. For those audience members unaware of his music, White Rainbow asked for no fanfare, barely recognizing his own presence and playing none of his recorded material (he would later tell me that he prefers creating songs on the spot over performing his catalogue). Hunched down onstage with a guitar and electronic equipment, White Rainbow’s introduction was impressively bombastic, humble, and unfortunately, too brief.

Honey Owens and Forkner returned within ten minutes alongside Bradford Cox and the rest of the Atlas Sound band (Brian Foote and drummer Stephanie Macksey), who together launched into a spacey set of loose, dreamy psychedelics. Although fans of Cox are familiar with his unpredictable showmanship, the man behind Atlas Sound was jovial and professional, delivering many of Let the Blind…’s best tracks without wearing any dresses (which would’ve also been pretty memorable). By now the crowd had filled in and most everyone was standing (if not dancing) at the foot of the stage. The band effort did justice to Cox’s laptop recordings, piling noise onto ‘Recent Bedroom’ and ‘Cold As Ice’ while retaining the ambient leanings of those album stand-outs. In a few instances, the band renovated electronic numbers into shoegazey rock songs, as heard in the aggressive ‘Scraping Past’ and show-stopper ‘Winter Vacation’, which brought the set to a ferocious close and hypnotized everyone with its propulsive beat.

Cox became more talkative throughout the set, discussing the severe cold of Canadian winter and countering it later with the shock that the venue was hot enough to make him sweat (no small feat, considering he admittedly doesn’t possess any body fat), and by the time the band reconvened for an encore, Cox was ready to just hang out. Testing the crowd, he played out a Dirty Projectors riff he couldn’t finish and engaged in conversation about a variety of songs he couldn’t be bothered playing. This was a great opportunity to hear a few of his countless (and awesome) unreleased tunes, which have been accumulating on his busy blog over the past year. Cox encouraged us to shout out requests, and I was lucky enough to hear two of mine: ‘Activation’ (well, half of it), from the Orange Olms Glow EP, and ‘Requiem to All the Lonely Teenagers with Passed-Out Moms’. The latter was another show highlight, that climaxed in a duel guitar stand-off between Forkner and Cox that was mind-blowingly well-executed considering they weren’t expecting to play it.

While a few critics would label such an encore unprofessional, it summed up a great show where it was evident that both band and audience were enjoying themselves. Cox has made clear through numerous interviews, blog posts, and albums that he has nothing to hide, and by blurring the line between stage and crowd, he succeeded in sharing his musical genius, challenging and morose as it is, to a crowd that genuinely needed to feel it.

(Gig Photography by the one and only Em Pascoe)

Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel - Atlas Sound

Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel

Atlas Sound
Kranky Records.


SCQ Rating: 85%

Hard to believe that twelve months ago, Bradford Cox was virtually unknown. Beyond the tiny circle of Atlanta-based fans who may have picked up debut Turn It Up Fa**ot, Deerhunter sent shockwaves through the indie-music world with the release of Cryptograms. Its subsequent tour only energized the hype further as fans, bloggers and critics alike met the voice behind Deerhunter’s deafening drones. Equal parts defiant, confrontational, fey and withdrawn, Cox became the posterboy for America’s suburban angst. He was too willingly deranged to be considered a mere misfit, and too unpredictable to be labeled. To put it best, it was inevitable that such an explosive personality would put out a solo album, and after the band released the Fluorescent Grey EP, Cox set out on his own.

Little did we know at the time, that flying solo would also be returning to form. Cox has been recording as Atlas Sound for over a decade, singing over cheap four tracks and building static from tape hisses. Suffering from Marfan’s Syndrome and bedridden for seasons at a time, Cox had no shortage of time during his teenage years to experiment with recorded sound, and he likely views Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel as a long-awaited credit roll to all those tumultuous years demoing.

Being that his moniker is so personal, these intensely raw lyrics should be expected. The family-archive tape of ‘Ghost Story’, which nearly concaves before blurring into electronic waves, describes the life of a ghost who found comfort in isolation, discovered that scaring people could be fun, and eventually returns to haunt the walls that housed his death. The following thirteen songs all breathe within that vaporous premise, whether lyrically (those drowned by their love in ‘River Card’, the isolated loneliness of ‘Quarantined’ and ‘On Guard’) or sonically, where each song is threatened by or living in dense ambience. Even Cox’s voice rarely leaves a ghostly register, speaking over atmospheric passages without rhyme or rhythm, allowing his voice to simply haunt the record’s skeleton.

Although most every instrument is heavily treated enough to make this an obscurely electronic record, Let the Blind… never stagnates. ‘Recent Bedroom’ wears its guitars on its sleeve, offering a slo-mo shoegaze-riff that burrows itself into the front yard where Cox stands, unable to cry. ‘Winter Vacation’ thrives on a soft techno beat that is used to genius effect, while ‘Ativan’s R&B percussion sounds lifted from the most drug-addled 50s recording never released. This is headphone music for swimming heads and bodies lying still.

With his Atlas Sound tour in full swing, Cox has already commenced “Healing Music”; a project that aims to provide original songs for people who are troubled on a first-come-first-serve basis. It’s an undertaking that could occupy the rest of his life, but if Let the Blind… is any indication of music’s healing power, Bradford Cox is the man for the job.

Listen to Atlas Sound here or here.