Built to Spill and UOY

           As a senior in college, I was fully entrenched into the "this is how I feel about a band and always will" camp. Clearly, this is a brilliant stance that has no potential flaws. In my infinite wisdom, I even managed to have opinions on bands I hadn't heard. Somehow I was deciding that bands were either in my wheelhouse or not, without the help of the semi-important act of actually listening to their music. This is the kind of thinking that caused me to wait until I was 23 to discover Built to Spill, despite the fact that they had been around for 14 years. From that point forward, I slowly watched them become one of my all time favorite bands. One lovely western New York afternoon, Señor Dank himself propositioned the idea to listen to the first single off of their new album, You in Reverse. After some initial bellyaching, I caved in and lo and behold, a love affair was born.

Gotta give the Dick Dank the credit here. 

      

        "Going Against Your Mind" has driving drums that pulse throughout it's entire wondrous eight and a half minutes plus. This beat, in combination with a tight bass line, provide a rock solid canvas for Doug Martsch and his guitar wielding merry men to meander, dart and explode all over. Right from the first listen, I realized this was going to be a band that did two things I wasn't used to; they jammed out without being a "jam" band and they did it all the fucking time. By the fourth solo (in the first song...) I was hooked. Years later I could see that for fans, especially those that went to live shows, this wouldn't have been a surprise at all. But for me, it was clearly time to slip neck deep into an album that would dominate my life for months to come. 

        In all honesty, this was another record that was in contention for my Ultimate Album. There isn't much this beast doesn't bring to the table. Once the shock wears off that you're listening to a song as long as "Going Against Your Mind" as an opener, it only gets better. This was the first album where the band officially added a fourth member, Brett Nelson. He was able to use his expert skills to help take some of the burden to play every guitar part off of Mr. Martsch. In fact, the band brought in a pseudo-fifth member, Brett Netson, as a third guitarist (...who may or may not be just an evil doppleganger named cyborg because I mean, really, what are the odds?). He jams on four tracks, allowing for swirls of layers and depth. This was a band that was firing on all cylinders. The jams are tight and precise musically, but they have the unique ability to come across as loose sketches at the same time. Listen to them weave and twirl their way through the excellent "Traces" or traipse nimbly through the hypnotizing "Wherever You Go", and it's clear that these gents were truly locked in. 

       If there is a fear of zoning out, just wait a minute (or six) for the next track. "Conventional Wisdom" has the most instantly gripping guitar hook on the album. This helps gives the track an excellent anchor to start with before it expands into a constantly evolving jam. "Mess With Time" is a truly aggressive romp that manages to make even the cowbell sound menacing. The second half of the song has an almost polka feel, as the bass switches up the groove and churns out an infectious rhythm. So infectious it might even cause you to (gasp!) dance, or at the very least jostle your shoulders a smidgen as you air guitar in sync.

       While expert guitar noodle-fests are (and always should be) the focal point of these efforts, what helps to make this record as fantastic as stated is its variety. The breezy "Liar" allows for the listener to take a step back and appreciate a mellow vocal line. It's nice to have the vox be the showcase, reminding the listener just how good a lyricist Mr. Martsch can be (and always has been). Or take a journey with "Gone", a guitar tune in its own right, bolstered with a haunting organ that provides the perfect morbid-carnival background during the extended atmospheric outro. Even now, as I go back and listen again, I marvel at how many different ways this band is able to take their same sound and mold it into something new.

        If you're not into the long guitar jams popularized by the bands of yesteryear (read: the 70's), then this might not be the album for you. Personally, I'm fascinated by the updated, polished and altogether more uniformly focused take on ethos of the Grateful Dead. This is a band that knows their strengths but have been playing together long enough to be able to stretch their boundaries in exceptional and exhilarating new ways. If you move forward (or use the Delorean to travel back) through their work, I doubt you'll be disappointed by any of the albums in their catalog. Yet, this was a band I was ready to write off for reasons unbeknownst to even me. 

         For the four or so of you that have read more than one of my reviews, you might start to notice a theme of idiocy when it comes to making musical choices early in my life. There are multiple ways one can look at this. Maybe I'm maturing, moving along on a prosperous path where I continue to find bands and avoid the pitfalls of stereotyping/judging without a fair trial. Or perhaps I'm just doomed to look back on this era of my musical evolution with the same shaking-my-head-at-my-youth disdain that many old men on the porch share. The only thing that's certain is that whatever the future holds, this is a band that will most certainly be part of it. 

Final Score: .98 You're Living All Over Me's

Dye it Blonde on Blonde

          The Smith Westerns look like a band I would hate. I could say that before I've even heard a single note. How awful is that? It's completely true though. Sometimes the curse that the overexposure of the modern day media machine/internet allows for is that you get to literally see artists whom otherwise you would have had to conjure up in the ether in your mind. In the past, bands would never live up to that spectre-like image, but by that time you'd already sewed your oats with their sound. You're either in or you're out, all looks aside. The aesthetic was just gravy.  The issue for me was, having seen these guys first, I made my mind up, "nah I'm good". This is practically the only excuse I have for waiting as long as I did to take the plunge and listen to their second album, released in January of 2011, "Dye it Blonde". I'm not proud of it, but thankfully this band might have helped me take my first step into asshat rehab.

   
        The album seems like it was the long forgotten soundtrack to an 80's teen movie that never got released, forever banished to John Cusack's basement. Normally, much like their image, this would be something that would immediately turn me off. Even when I hear the album, there are times where I can't believe I'm enjoying what I'm hearing. I'm certain that says more about me than it does about them, because when it comes down to it, this is an absolutely stellar record.
       Most accounts of their first album tell tales of fun, catchy tunes that sound like they were produced in a tin can alley by a rag-tag bunch that wasn't worried about it. This is where they excel in album #2. The production is shiny, bright and reminiscent of the bubble-gum pop of days past. Right from the first track, "Weekend", the big hooks, catchy-as-possible choruses and "holy-crap I can't believe how much I am enjoying this" guitar licks/solos are smothering your senses in the most enjoyable way possible. These youngsters from Chicago clearly know how to bang out a beautiful pop tune that will challenge even the most ardently adverse listener to not hum along.
        Whether it's "All Die Young", "End of the Night" or honestly, any of the other tracks, these songs are absolutely dripping with positively brain burrowing Beatles-y melodies. The catch is they've been infused with enough glam-rock shimmer to give the sound a semi-modern touch that a lot of brit-invasion-wannabes lack. For example, after dreamy verses and a sing-along chorus, "Imagine pt. 3" has a guitar lick that kicks in at about the three minute mark that practically makes me wet my seventeen year old Westminster panties. When it starts, all I want out of life is to hear it again and again. As can be said about a lot here, it's simple and it's fantastic. From there it almost immediately shifts right into one of the best ELO ripoffs I've ever heard. Jeff Lynne himself wouldn't be able to find a way to help produce it better (OK, that's a lie). Normally, this is the type of band that can crank out a few hits on a few albums, but what's remarkable is how this album consistently holds up from front to back, listen after listen. There isn't a song I even consider skipping, which in the days of iTunes singles and fast-twitch texting, is about as common as a mastodon heavy petting with an ocelot.

        These young chaps clearly know what they are doing, and it was me (the significantly older one) that needed to grow up and become more accepting. By not allowing my knee-jerk reaction to shun the sounds of an era I had previously been almost universally opposed to, I found one of my favorite albums in a long time.  Perhaps in doing so I can officially take a step towards the maturity that is needed to become a more open minded music fan. Who knew that a couple of sugary pop tunes might help to turn me into at least a little something more than an asshat music snob?

Final Score: .91 You're Living All Over Me's

Dick Dank Challenge #1: Doesn't Matter if the Stranglers are Black and White

(Quick note from the desk of the FishLantern: Every so often Dick Dank and I will be "challenging" each other to listen to an album we haven't heard before, reviewing it after only a few listens. The hope would be that these lead to amazing revelations and deep insights that allow us to connect like covalent bonds over a new-found passion. In all likelihood, that will happen about a third of the time. More realistically, it will end up as a somewhat messy review packed with things we'll want to go back and change after one more listen or diving deeper into said album multiple times later in life. Let's see em'!)

Hey look, a quarter!

        So Mr. Dank tossed this recommendation my way and I'm semi-salivating already because it's a band I've never even heard of at all. So, what could go wrong? A quick perusal of the interweb tells me that The Stranglers are an English band, formed in the mid 70's and that are still around today thanks to a little nibble here and there of Keith Richards special life giving crumpets. My journey into their world begins with their 1978 recording Black and White, their third album in a string of seventeen. 
       After my initial listen, what became clear was that I needed to spend a little more time delving into the world of new wave (not to mention The Stranglers catalogue) if it has the potential to be this funky. Images of Devo and the Talking Heads danced behind my eyes, as the synths danced their way through the opening lines of the first track, "Tank". The lead vocal of Hugh Cornwell is exceedingly British (and with a name like Hugh Cornwell, I would expect nothing less). He uses a psuedo-chant style quite often throughout the album, almost militarily willing me to enjoy the melody. Now, due to a purposeful lack of investigation on my part, I had never explored the work of most new wave artists.  But that vibe came to mind early and often during an album that seemed to come at a time before the genre even existed. With the acknowledgement of my naiveté in this area out in the open though, the bass work of Jean-Jacques "JJ" Burnel stood out from the outset, especially on what critics claim to be the best track on the album, "Nice N' Sleazy". It's high in the mix, funky as hell and attracts me like a moth to a torch.
         Along with the juggling bass, the other main attraction is the keyboard/synth/organ, manned by Dave Greenfield, that meanders at times and pulverizes others, sounding carnivalesque one minute and urgent the next. Wikipedia claims that he "takes part in medieval battle re-enactment's", and I guess this shouldn't surprise me based on his King Arthur era arpeggios that appear throughout.  Musically though, it's fascinating to see how the keys play the role of the lead instrument (as opposed the majority of what I listen to which has the guitar in that capacity). It's lack of repeated riff and freedom caused for some unique musical moments that could be entertaining as hell, all the while throwing me for a loop.

Really wish you guys had told me about the sunglasses. 

          This seems to be in large part due to some very unusual song structures.  While there always appears to be the anchor of the basic verse-chorus-verse set up, there are little flourishes where offshoots of other genres, tempo changes and odd vocals break up any chance of familiarity that might exist. While this can be bracing at times, once you get used to the fact that it's heading your way, it comes as a welcome surprise. This is a band that embraced their unique style and went on to make a successful career out of it.
         What it boils down to though is that I'm not sure this is the type of music one can fully appreciate until they've have repeated exposures it and I have not had said luxury. My unfamiliarity with the genre and the sound cause me some musical discomfort. With that said, I came away from this fully realizing that I needed to be more open to new wave as a whole, and I'm especially looking forward to digging through the body of material these fine gents have cobbled together in the last 40 years.

Final Score: .66 Dick Danksing All Over Me's