The Ghost That Carried Us Away - Seabear

The Ghost that Carried Us Away

Seabear
Morr Music.

SCQ Rating: 66%

If you’re looking for some new twee-electronic records to buy, go check out Morr Music; not only can you sample some of the German label’s latest releases, you can read hilarious press kits that inflate these albums with ludicrous proclamations. As the prominent label continues to enlist more varied, less electronic artists, Seabear (AKA Sindri Mar Sigfusson) has been the latest success story. And according to Morr Music, that story boasts how Seabear is what happens when Sufjan Stevens meets Sigur Ros. Mmhmm. Because I’m rather accommodating, I can hear that Sigfusson’s voice sounds a dimension shy of Sufjan’s and because I have a map, I can prove that Seabear and Sigur Ros both live in Iceland. Beyond those points, Seabear lacks the grandeur, emotion and sense of risk that creates truly original music. None of this is to imply that The Ghost That Carried Us Away is a bad record… it just isn’t deserving of comparisons to such renowned company.

Enough demythologizing for one day. What Seabear does have is a talent for writing simple folk songs that sound all-encompassing. A simple percussion loop offers a lively pulse to the few uptempo tracks – ‘Libraries’ and ‘I Sing I Swim’ – while spirited violins flutter throughout. The giant shadows behind these humble tunes are the arrangements, which carry the songs when the writing cannot. The problem with Seabear’s debut is that it’s easy for me to stop paying attention, and here’s why: Sigfusson’s vocals have no variation. He never gets excited, soulful or upset so scratch urgency, scratch drama, scratch emotion. That last one is particularly upsetting because this record deserves emotion; its lyrics and music are full of it, but Sigfusson has little to give. I’m not looking for showmanship so much as a voice that doesn’t sound bored with its muse.

It’s on a select few slow songs, like ‘Hands Remember’, where Sigfusson’s trance-inducing tone actually compels. ‘Lost Watch’ is where Seabear ropes all these familiar and warm instruments into something unique; a painfully slow guitar plucking under electronic keyboard, a soft banjo, and pitch-shifted vocals lost into the mix. The longest song on the record and possibly the best, ‘Lost Watch’ is a gorgeous slab of melancholy that, unlike much of The Ghost That Carried Us Away, feels unhinged by tight melody or percussion and could float away at any moment. Unfortunately its neighbouring songs aren’t doing any favours, as they are just as slow-paced but without the enticing atmosphere.

These arrangements actually do a great job of covering how played his melodies are; some of which are so familiar they feel publicly owned instead of lifted from one particular artist. The chords of ‘Seashell’ sound identical in time signature and progression as at least three other songs I know. Maybe that’s why the whole record feels so comfortable. Undoubtedly pretty and with several enjoyable moments, The Ghost That Carried Us Away remains a slight disappointment. Despite the earthy instrumentation and folky vibes, Seabear manages to sound sterile by never stepping outside of a safe melody’s comfort zone. An artist worth keeping tabs on… just don’t believe the hype.

Heretic Pride - The Mountain Goats

Heretic Pride

The Mountain Goats
4AD Records.

SCQ Rating: 68%

To be a Mountain Goats fan, you must be a John Darnielle fan. The sole artist of both lyrics and vocals, Darnielle is the heart of every Mountain Goats song, delivering lyrics no one else can with that signature voice. ‘Sax Rohmer #1’ sets a buoyant mood early, as he announces “I’m coming home to you/ if it’s the last thing that I do.” It’s a powerful opener that’s bested quickly by the title track, which featuring John Vanderslice on synths, is as invigorating as the Mountain Goats get. On the other hand, ‘So Desperate’ is the thick silence of a dead engine with the windows up, trying to find words for a girl but failing – not out of fear but anticipation. This expectation of fortune in life and love is what drives Heretic Pride, that urgency to hold onto precious moments before they pass.

When a band member becomes the figurehead of their band like Darnielle has, he largely becomes responsible for what songs work and what doesn’t. As divisive as it is nasally, Darnielle’s voice undoubtedly suits the Mountain Goats’ more folk-infused material (2006’s Get Lonely was pitch-perfect for this very reason) better than their occasional electric numbers, where he strains to match their volume. And while he holds his own in the raucous ‘Lovecraft in Brooklyn’, it spotlights that one evident obstacle for new Mountain Goats listeners to hurdle. Where his voice may uninspire some, Darnielle’s bandleader position is justified is his lyrical fortitude, as each song on Heretic Pride presents the same quality songwriting as previous efforts that no other band could duplicate.

What makes the Mountain Goats such a unique band is that Darnielle’s talents don’t render his fellow musicians to backing-band status. Since the story-arch of each song is so typically unique, the band employs small sonic flavours to compliment the lyrical tone; like ‘Tianchi Lake’, a soft acoustic meditation that is emboldened by reflective tinkering piano. In other instances, the band supplies gorgeous accompaniment such as the cinematic ‘San Bernardino’, where a string arrangement carries a first-person account of pulling into a motel to deliver their child in a bathtub; each emotion from fear to joy is fluttering to Darnielle’s tale, recorded with the crystal clarity we’ve come to expect from 4AD.

Despite a variety of arrangements, Heretic Pride can’t shake off its stagnant low points; both the reggae-stalemate ‘Sept 15 1983’ and the forgettable easy listening of ‘New Zion’ welcome the skip button. In an album of mid-tempo full-band folk songs, these dull passages drag our attention-span to the edge of boredom, but luckily, the aforementioned highlights balance these weaker songs enough to minimize damage to the album at large. ‘Michael Myers Resplendent’ serves Heretic Pride best, showcasing all the drama that would be clunky in the hands of any other lyricist or band. Here, it’s an eloquent close to a frequently beautiful record; the kind that compliments the Mountain Goats catalogue without becoming the envy of it.

American Gothic EP - The Smashing Pumpkins

American Gothic EP

The Smashing Pumpkins
Reprise Records.

SCQ Rating: 74%

Venues selling out in minutes, ‘Tarantula’ on alt-rock rotation every half hour, the shroud of mystery over whether James and Darcy would show up, and that hideous Statue of Liberty drowning on posters all over city walkways; yes, the summer of 2007 will stand in the Fanboy Book of 90s Idols as the terrifically-hyped return of the Smashing Pumpkins. Yet despite such ardent Zeitgeist profiteering, the palpable storm of media attention backfired: the record was underwhelming by Pumpkin standards and by the end of August, a summers-worth of expectation had thinned embarrassingly. So less than a year later, it seems that the infamously narcissistic Billy Corgan may be eating some humble pie with the fresh and subdued American Gothic EP.

Contrary to the smothering promotional efforts of Zeitgeist, I discovered this new release carelessly filed in the Elliott Smith section. Likewise, I’ve found few reviews or reference-points to this EP online (perhaps this is because American Gothic is unavailable to the USA in physical format). Whatever the reason is for this under-the-rug release method, it’s as wisely unassuming as the material itself; American Gothic is, despite its 17 minute running length, a sprawling open-strum of backyard guitar odes that answer the call of many fans who berated Zeitgeist for lacking a sensitive side. From the opening acoustic tumble of ‘The Rose Parade’, we’re reunited with a strain of Billy Corgan songwriting that hasn’t been heard since Zwan’s Mary Star of the Sea, or in the SP catalogue, Adore; a melancholic, folk that chastises the needless effects that Corgan is known to submerge songs in. When he asks “Can’t you see me at all?”, it’s sung honestly, without the whiny bellyache that sunk much of a certain solo album. ‘Again, Again, Again’ follows, proudly-paced by Chamberlain’s unmistakable drum-work, and builds into a restrained but addictive chorus that manages to evoke a passion and romanticism out of Billy that has been long absent.

When American Gothic debuted on I-Tunes in January, Corgan spoke lovingly of these song’s origins (most of which written before or during Zeitgeist) and how he opted to record them during a tour-break in the fall of 2007. His decision, at first, sounds misguided when you consider how badly their last album could’ve used these songs to loosen that Sabbath noose and offer a greater range of songcraft. The more I listen to American Gothic, however, the more I understand Corgan’s choice to keep each release focused; difference is, where Zeitgeist’s focal point proved its undoing, the lack of variety here works (in fact, the more aggressive ‘Pox’ is the least affecting here).

If the purposefully garish arena-rock of the last Pumpkins album felt too cumbersome, I urge all waning fans to seek out its opposite; a curving song-cycle of romantic notions that are as rustic and bare as the railroad-stitched plains that adorn the EP’s sleeves. Although these songs pale in comparison to the best of the Pumpkins’ softer material (Mellon Collie...’s second half, the Tonight, Tonight EP), American Gothic is the best SP material I’ve heard since the 90s and a modest redemption for those of us who were ready to walk away.

Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles

Crystal Castles

Crystal Castles
Last Gang Records.

SCQ Rating: 88%

“Haven’t heard them but I’ve heard of them,” is probably the most apt phrase for the internet-era music industry. Being one of those nerds who constantly searches music zines for new records and catches the names of countless bands I’ve never heard, it’s also a phrase I find myself repeating endlessly. Little did I know that that very phrase would lead me to my biggest music-regret of 2007: missing a Crystal Castles show… where admission was $5. Although I missed the concert, I’m still grateful because that evening was the first time I decided to actually listen to this band that was making so many indie-headlines and remixing every indie-band – all without a record deal, label, or LP to speak of. Admittedly, I went download crazy, grabbing as much of the Untrust Us EP and Alice Practice EP (sold exclusively and quickly at their shows) as I could find. So nearly nine months later, I calmly consider picking up their official debut but wonder if my intimate knowledge of half the record might hinder any long-lasting enjoyment of hearing it again. By the time opener ‘Untrust Us’ comes to an end, I’m glad I caved.

With the odd exception, Crystal Castles is sequenced chronologically, meaning that the first six songs are nothing new to most CC fans. Despite some of these tracks being over two years old, they’ve each been polished, subtly extended or added to, providing a fresh edge to classics like ‘Crimewave’ and ‘Alice Practice’. The early download ‘1983’ is now ‘1991’, virtually unchanged, while ‘Xxzxcuzx Me’ through time or proper recording techniques now sounds awesome, instead of slightly annoying. Where the sequencing does betray the band’s historical order is appropriate, as Crystal Castles balances the Alice Glass vocals well with Ethan Kath’s instrumental work.

I heave another sigh of relief as newer material is peppered into the sequencing, namely because Crystal Castles prove capable of broadening their range without losing the sound that labeled them “8-bit Terrorists”. As much as I love the early shock’n’awe techniques that made ‘Air War’ and ‘Love and Caring’ so groundbreaking, a full sixteen track album of it would’ve stolen those songs’ ammunition and rendered the band a one-trick act. ‘Good Time’ features much of the same Atari-fueled, vocal splices but is laid-back, content to be clear-headed, while ‘Vanished’ improves on the no-wave pulse of ‘Crimewave’ by incorporating one of Kath’s throbbing beats to Van-She’s ‘Sex City’. It’s a stroke of genius, highlighting the CC’s dancefloor sex appeal without requiring the presence of Glass. Most interesting are the final couplet, ‘Black Panther’ and ‘Tell Me What to Swallow’, which presents the band’s most recent work and flexible songcraft. The former is unique in its vocal delivery, as Glass could be screaming her lyrics underwater, as well as its near-trance aspirations, but suffers from an over-done keyboard melody. What ‘Black Panther’ lacks in originality is redeemed with a last song that stands apart from everything Crystal Castles have done before now: a dreamy slow-core track that finds Kath playing guitar and Glass cooing into the mic. It’s a first for both members and an ideal end for a young band with a world of possibilities ahead of them.

Listening to this first full-document of the Crystal Castles experience, I somehow feel ready to forgive myself for that failed opportunity to catch them in all their live, unruly insanity. As great as it might’ve been, I’m happy to have experienced the band alone in my room, as much of their material now feels very personal (many of their songs feel like going out in Toronto at night). With the long-awaited release of this album now giving me a physical CD to recollect the songs I’ve loved since last summer and new ones I’m only beginning to obsess over, the secret’s out. With nearly a quarter of 2008 wrapped up, Crystal Castles is an early contender for album of the year.

Listen to Crystal Castles here.

Dandelion Gum - Black Moth Super Rainbow

Dandelion Gum

Black Moth Super Rainbow
Graveface Records.

SCQ Rating: 79%

I read somewhere that Black Moth Super Rainbow, a group of starry-eyed bohemians who live in the wooded seclusion of rural Pennsylvania, sound like the most astronomically drugged up version of Air. Such cheap comparisons are regular among lazy music critics but it’s so commonly used because it’s an easy way to caricature an artist’s sound, and in this case they’re not far off. However, if I had to pick an artist for comparison, I’d offer Dan Snaith of Caribou, whose love of 60s psychedelic-rock can be avidly seen in Dandelion Gum; the multi-coloured monster I’m currently listening to on repeat. At seventeen tracks clocking in at under fifty minutes, Black Moth Super Rainbow torpedo into tripped-out electronic passages, relaxed tie-dye rockers, and vocals sung exclusively with a vocoder – who can blame critics for seeking an easy way out?

Of course, it would be easy to cut and run if the record didn’t show such promise. Take ‘Jump Into My Mouth and Breathe The Stardust’, the second track from Dandelion Gum, which kicks into a Cat Power-esque guitar riff circa 2003 – moody but energized with tight drums – and add the otherworldly elements of vocodered singing and alien synths. Like much of this record, it’s startlingly summery, from the open-field relaxing vibes of ‘Sun Lips’ to a quietly regretful humidity of ‘Neon Syrup for the Cemetery Sisters’; these songs are lyrically and musically passionate about sunshine, long grass, and, well, candy.

This wide-eyed innocence remains palpable for the same reason their overuse of the vocoder doesn’t get irritating; Dandelion Gum’s arrangements were designed for lo-fi pacifism, while providing ample variety in brief instrumentals to keep things inventive. The highway cruise of ‘Rollerdisco’ is slick beats and buried vocals; a smooth detour from the ragged majority of Dandelion Gum, while ‘Spinning Cotton Candy in a Shake Made of Shingles’ is positively insular, with hazy guitar and tape manipulation sounding strangely like Boards of Canada. All the same, nothing about this band is minimal, and because they feed off their excesses, some fuzzy guitar explosions and warped keyboard will occasionally trigger a sense of déjà vu.

At seventeen songs and packed with ideas, Dandelion Gum isn’t so much bloated as it is a treasure trove of what the band has to offer: extroverted psych-rock, electronic noise, and, most impressively, emotionally-driven softer pieces like the sentimental closer ‘Untitled Roadside Demo’. Despite my advice that you treat this collection like a compilation upon initial listening, BMSR have succeeded in tying these often-polarizing moments into a unified album.

Listen to Black Moth Super Rainbow here.

Thank God It's Tuesday

Thank God It's Tuesday is your timetable for upcoming releases that should interest you. This post will be added to as new release dates become available and is clickable from SCQ's Navigator on the right margin of your screen.


A short calendar of things worth looking forward to in 2010/11:


January 24


The Stars Are Indifferent to Astronomy - Nada Surf
Provincial - John K. Samson


January 31


Old Ideas - Leonard Cohen


February 7


Le Voyage Dans La Lune - Air
Six Cups of Rebel - Lindstrom


February 14


Plumb - Field Music
Underrated Silence - Ulrich Schnauss & Mark Peters


February 28


The Slideshow Effect - Memoryhouse
TBA - Orcas


March 6


Break It Yourself - Andrew Bird
Dispossession - Mike Wexler 
Always - Xiu Xiu


March 20


Port of Morrow - The Shins


March 27


Busting Visions - Zeus


April 3


It's Cool, I Love You - Bear In Heaven
New Wild Everywhere - Great Lake Swimmers
Spooky Action At a Distance - Lotus Plaza
Zammuto - Zammuto


April 10


Mr. Impossible - Black Dice
Orcas - Orcas
Lost In the Humming Air - Various (Tribute to Harold Budd)


April 17


Cynic's New Year - Horse Feathers


April 24


Blunderbuss - Jack White


May 1


Aufheben - Brian Jonestown Massacre


May 7


Exercises - CFCF
MY BLOODY VALENTINE REMASTERS (+)
Death Dreams - P.S. I Love You


May 22


Clear Moon - Mount Eerie


May 29


Valtari - Sigur Ros
Among the Leaves - Sun Kil Moon


June 12


In Our Heads - Hot Chip
Synthetica - Metric
There's No Leaving Now - Tallest Man On Earth


June 18


Oceania - Smashing Pumpkins


2017


TBD - Boards of Canada

Anticipated Records Due 2012 / SCQ Dream List:

Ryan Adams - Blackhole
Aphex Twin - TBA
Bob Mould - TBA
The Wrens - Funeral