Category Archives for Alternative

The Jazz June – “after the earthquake”

Grade: B

Key Tracks: “over underground” “edge of space”

The dream of the 90’s is alive, and it’s a sad, forced dream. The Jazz June are back for their first album in 12 years, willfully back to participate in the emo movement that they helped spawn. Nothing has really changed in the interim – they’re still playing invitingly intimate songs with a half-forced energy that are equally ready for the radio and for the underground.

Most of the songs on the album deal, at least seemingly, with relationships and self-confusion. “stuck on repeat” has a repeated section of the line “I’m still trying to figure it out,” a line that lands harder coming from a band that’s been inactive for over a decade. The album is marked by lyrics that are somewhat vague but appropriate – “I still don’t know where you are” on “nothing to see here,” “You thought I was perfect / But you got it wrong” on “it came back.” “edge of space” is also pretty noteworthy, a track about Felix Baumgartner and the former astronaut who helped plan his famous dive. These somewhat muddy lyrics are more indicative of the 90’s emo scene that the Jazz June were heavily involved in, instead of the often hyper-specific lyrics of newer bands. And, it couples better with the equally muddy music.

The Jazz June, like many of their second wave-emo contemporaries, played relatively standard music. It’s distinguishably alternative, with an emo twist – think being influenced by early Weezer and actively trying not to sound like early Weezer. The downside is that some tracks don’t stand out. The upside is the ones that do really do. Opener “over underground” starts with a screeching guitar, sirening their return. And late album treasure “nothing to see here” has a big and unexpected guitar crunch in its chorus, one that helps to break up the album’s general midtempo nature. Otherwise, it’s pretty standard alternative fare – inoffensive, kind of inconsistent, but fitting.

To someone first coming into emo, being exposed to bands like, say, the Front Bottoms, or Glocca Morra or Radiator Hospital, the Jazz June might not make that much of a lasting impression at first. But their return is all about the melding of two eras – the Jazz June are back, Mineral are back, Braid are back. The Jazz June were and are a band’s band – though never famous, they’ve set the template for bands that have come since. The shoving out of third-wave emo and welcoming of fourth-wave has brought the once-young sad and melodic people of the 90’s out of hiding. The Jazz June are back, and hearing something so straightforward is really pretty refreshing.

The album comes out tomorrow, 11/11/14, on – where else – Topshelf Records.

If you like this, try: I just recommended this in a different review, but Prawn’s recent “Kingfisher” album speaks more of an older, bigger sound, than a newer, more condensed one.

-By Andrew McNally

Foxygen – “…And Star Power”

Grade: B

Key Tracks: “How Can You Really” “Cosmic Vibrations” “Can’t Contextualize My Mind”

All day I’ve been trying to come up with outdated words to describe this album. Rad? Killer? Kickin’? Foxygen are a classic rock band for the digital age. They always have been. But their new double album, “…And Star Power,” is so classic rock inspired that it explores it as a concept. The album is split into five parts on four sides, all of which represent some faction of a standard classic rock album. And although at 82+ minutes, it’s way, way too long, it provides for an interesting listen as a 24 track album where each song gets crazier than the last.

Side One of this album is split into two parts – the first half of a classic rock album, with the radio hits, and the second half, where only the band’s real fans keep listening. What this means for Foxygen is a start to a lengthy album with a few midtempo, standard-ish songs. It’s a risky move, trusting your fans to keep listening even though the opener is shaky. But it does provide a few great songs – “How Can You Really” is the most Foxygen-y song ever produced, a song that sounds just like any classic rock standard, except for it’s indescribable sloppiness. It and “Cosmic Vibrations” have provided two singles for Foxygen, on an album that’s otherwise devoid. Part Two of the side is one suite – the four-part Star Power Suite. The four songs, including an opening overture, are all speedy garage-rock bruisers that are a lot of fun. Only one of them stretches over three minutes, so they don’t overstay their welcome.

Side Two is subtitled “The Paranoid Side,” and it’s easily the weakest side of the album. The loose concept of this section is songs that are more psychedelic and free than standard rock settings. “I Don’t Have Anything/The Gate” and “666” are interesting songs, but it’s the longest section from a track number standpoint, and it’s got some of the most forgettable songs. “Flowers” and “Cannibal Holocaust” might sound better on a shorter album, but on one that’s already overly bloated, they just take up time.

Side Three, or Scream: Journey Through Hell takes a sudden detour into songs classic rock bands wish they could’ve pulled off, but couldn’t have at the time. The section is kicked off by the nearly seven minute “Cold Winter/Freedom,” which never has a discernible rhythm but some haunting tempo changes. The section is marked by chaos – screaming, hyper rhythms and drastic volume increases. “Can’t Contextualize My Mind” sounds exactly a Stones song left on the floor because it broke an album’s flow. “Brooklyn Police Station” “Freedom II” and “Talk” are all equally intense, hitting chaotic levels even for Foxygen. The few lyrics the songs have are often unintelligible. It’s jarring and off-putting at first, but they’re tracks that demand a few listens, and the listener is drawn back to them almost immediately.

The final side is just two tracks, sweeter outros which don’t exactly fit, given the predecessors, but they’re decent enough as is. “Everyone Needs Love” is a sweet, lengthy song, and “Hang” is a calmed and fitting finale. Their placement doesn’t really work but there isn’t much to comment on them.

“…And Star Power” sounds like their previous album, “We Are the 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace & Magic” on an immediate level – it’s classic rock inspired lunacy, with brilliant flow, quick switches between melodies and chaos, and a permanent garage feel. But it’s a very different album. (Full disclosure: “21st Century” is one of my two or three favorite albums, so take any analysis with a few grains of salt). “21st Century” is only 36 minutes long, nearly a third the length and fifteen songs fewer. And where “21st Century” prouds itself on dense, bizarre and witty lyrics (“On Blue Mountain/God will save you/Put the pieces back together” shows up in at five of the nine songs), this album centers itself on more conventional lyrics, instead aimed at the flow and the grandiose concept. Much of “…And Star Power”‘s rough transitions, competing ideas, and sheer length come from the band’s inner-fighting, well-documented since their break early last year. This album actually serves to clarify that things aren’t as bad as they seemed to us, but the output still goes to show some issues.

Foxygen have always been a high-concept band. Don’t forget, their first album was a 30 track space opera. So the concept, on the whole, works well on “…And Star Power.” They’re a classic rock band incarnate, evident in Johnathan Rado’s utter devotion to singing like Lou Reed and Mick Jagger. The album’s only fault is that it’s just long – so, so long. Twenty minutes could probably be chopped off and it would have the same effect. On top of multiple songs in each section, there’s interludes that just take up more time. But still, Foxygen are cool as hell. There’s a reason they were able to get members of the Flaming Lips, White Fence and Of Montreal to guest on the album. “…And Star Power” is the album that MGMT wishes they could make – expansive, ambitious not to but past a fault, flowing but inconsistent and downright bonkers. If you have 82 minutes to spare, and you’re into indie-garage bands taking pages from psychedelic classic rock, then “…And Star Power” is by all means worth a listen.

If you like this, try: This one’s easy. Jordaan Mason & Horse Museum’s 2009 album “divorce lawyers i shaved my head,” a concept album about a failed marriage between two people confused about their sexual identities. Each song escalates in it’s disturbing and bizarre qualities, but does so at a slow pace so the listener doesn’t pick up on it at first. It’s a confounding work. Mason does his best Jeff Mangum impression throughout.

-By Andrew McNally

Dads – “I’ll Be the Tornado”

Grade: B+

Key Tracks: “Grand Edge, MI” “Sold Year/Transitions”

Gone are the days of “Groin Twerk” and albums with ‘Radass’ in the title. Dads’ perpetual lyrical theme of growing up and drifting away comes stronger, as the Jersey duo mature in leaps and bounds over their last record. We saw this transition coming, on the decidedly not-so-emo “Pretty Good,” an EP that never really found it’s place. “I’ll Be the Tornado,” an LP, completes the transition into a serious, adult band. Except, they’re still punk.

Much like last year’s “Pretty Good,” the guys bounce around in a few different influences. This album has much more flow than “Pretty Good,” not trying to make any statements about the music, instead letting the audience accept it as it comes. The album’s acoustic opening isn’t a copout, it’s part of a build-up, and it’s unexpected. (And it’s reminiscent of this year’s largely acoustic Cardinal Cardinal EP, the side project of John Bradley). We’re still kind of expecting disassembled, roaring songs like “Get to the Beach!” but they’re not present. Instead, we get a number of flowing rock tracks, with occasional punk jams (“You Hold Back”), emo ballads (“But”) and some slight, leftover twee rhythms (“Chewing Ghosts”). “I’ll Be the Tornado” is more straightforward and accessible, if not still tough around the edges. Two part track “Sold Year/Transitions” has a rough and straining transition in the middle that’s fresher than most of the album’s other music. Dads feel comfortable falling into more traditional rock, but they can still pull it all off.

And they can pull it off because John Bradley’s lyrics, vocals and drums haven’t changed a note. “I’ll Be the Tornado” is a drum-heavy work, logical when you’re a duo with a drummer who sings lead. And Bradley’s lyrics are as ‘fresh’ as they’ve ever been. They have a certain ‘creative writing 101 course’ feel to them – poetic only in their specificity, direct, regretful and reminiscent. His lyrics are always unique, opting for straight punches rather than anything subversive. “I want to be happy,” Bradley starkly admits on “You Hold Back,” which seems a contrast to everything before and after it on the album. Bradley, and Scott Sharinger, explore feelings of unease and uncomfortable maturity, not knowing what to want or expect out of life. As with previous albums, many of their lyrics are based around falling back on memories because you can’t make anything of the future. “I need something new to obsess over,” says second track “Chewing Ghosts.” And reflections on others are present, as always. “You wanna hang Christmas lights in the summer/An excuse to spend time with each other” Bradley sings on “Sold Year/Transitions.” And Bradley also sings about his own dad’s health struggles, with references peppering the album throughout. The album is honest, even for Dads, with frank poetry and gut-hitting remembrances.

The only real fault of the album is that in its embrace of more traditional rock music, it sputters out towards the end. The album ends with “Take Back Today” and the 7+ minute “Only You,” both of which are musically pleasing songs, but aren’t the big finish the album needs. They’re both kind of ho-hum songs, not hitting the same level that the rest of the album does. So it dampers the album a bit, but not enough to discredit the eight songs before it. “I’ll Be the Tornado” is still a wildly and unexpectedly progressive album for the band, one that’s also regressive in many ways. It’s definiably Dads, but it’s more open, grittier, slower, clearer, and even more honest. Gone are the punk blasts, and they’re missed, but the replacements are more than welcomed.

If you like this, try: Prawn’s recent album, “Kingfisher,” another more mature sounding emo album, albeit one that takes an entirely different lyrical approach.

Weezer – “Everything Will Be Alright in the End”

Grade: B

Key Tracks: “Ain’t Got Nobody” “Foolish Father”

Baby steps, people. Baby steps. It’s been a longtime since we’ve seen a Weezer we can trust, but we’re getting closer.

It’s no secret that Weezer fans, and fans of basic alternative radio, have suffered over the past decade. Since the excruciating “Make Believe” in 2005, Weezer has released a string of five largely terible albums. And most of them roped us in with great singles – 2005’s “Perfect Situation,” 2008’s “Pork and Beans,” 2009’s “If You’re Wondering If I Want You, I Want You To,” 2010’s “Memories.” But after a four year break (no, not some more undergrad studies), Weezer are back with an album that comes closer to revisiting their roots than they’ve seen in 12 years.

You may have heard leadoff single “Back to the Shack.” It’s honestly a pretty terrible song. Something about the weird hip-hop influence over the fuzz guitar doesn’t work, like something is just off. But the sentiment is there – an apology to fans and bandmates, from Rivers Cuomo, for years of music that didn’t sound like “My Name is Jonas” or “El Scorcho.” Indeed, Weezer go back to the basics on this album. It’s the closest thing to 90’s fuzz-rock we’ve gotten since 2002’s underappreciated “Maladroit.” And while it’s inconsistent and largely less than exciting, it’s still a nice refresh on a legacy that had become more asterisks than not.

The album deals with relationships – Cuomo’s relationships with others, women, and his father. They might be tried topics, but not for a band that’s trying to reclaim a lost sound. The last of those – Cuomo’s relationship with his father – comes through the strongest. The album’s last four tracks deal with it. “Foolish Father” is direct, but the last three songs – a trilogy – are not. “I. The Waste Land,” “II. Anonymous,” and “III. Return to Ithaka” close out the album on a big note, a booming finale of tracks that’s reminiscent of bands bigger than Weezer. Parts I and III are instrumental, but it doesn’t matter, because they hit a sound they’ve never really hit before.

Weezer also smartly give a nod to bands they’ve influenced. Bethany Cosentino, of Best Coast fame, sings on “Go Away.” And Patrick Stickles, frontman for (the best current American band) Titus Andronicus, contributes guitar on “Foolish Father.”

The 90’s garage-nerd fuzz comes back, finally, though it isn’t as strong as it used to be. This album is about on par with the Green Album – the kind of Weezer we like to hear, even if it isn’t their best work. Most of the songs aren’t that memorable, but it still makes for a good listen. Cars frontman and early Weezer producer Ric Ocasek seems to have roped the band back in, too, with his production sounding similar to the band in their heyday. It seems like we can finally say, “gone are the days of mediocre, scattershot Weezer.” “Everything Will Be Alright in the End” doesn’t have the standout songs that “Ratitude” or “the Red Album” have, but it instead offers more than just two good songs. Nearly every track on “Everything” is 90’s era garage-rock, and the only ones that aren’t are the mid-album slow jams. “Everything” isn’t going to go down among “the Blue Album” and “Pinkerton,” but it’s a serious step in the right direction, and it’s the album that we, or at least I, never thought I would hear Weezer put out anymore.

-By Andrew McNally

Interpol – “El Pintor”

Grade: B+

Key Tracks: “All the Rage Back Home” “Everything is Wrong”

This album is refreshing, in the sense that waking up to find a glass of tepid tap water on your nightstand at noon on a Sunday is ‘refreshing.’ Old Interpol isn’t back – even literally, as Carlos D’s departure has left the band a trio – but this album is the closest they’ve come to vintage Interpol in a decade.

“El Pintor” is both an anagram for “Interpol” and Spanish for “the painter.” Both titles fit – this is an album worthy of being self-titled, if they hadn’t already done that on their murky 2010 album. And painting – making something from nothing. The band has basically re-kickstarted themselves; Paul Banks absorbed the bass parts, and they’ve returned to a tighter and denser sound. They’ve made the best out of what was becoming a bad situation – a legacy of people saying “Well, their first two albums were great…” The trio sounds like they’ve shelved some ideas and put “Our Love to Desire” and “Interpol” behind them. To put it more simply, Interpol has not, as you would exactly expect, been affected by critics at all.

Interpol isn’t doing any flexing here. There’s nothing extravagant – no time for that. “El Pintor” is just 40 minutes long. They trimmed everything they could, leaving just the tight, existential journey that was their first two albums. “El Pintor” is structured phenomenally well, with blast after blast. “Interpol” ended on two huge duds, but there’s none of that on “El Pintor.” All ten songs are in the same vein, guitar-heavy proto-post-punk that’s fueled equally by small garages and big cities. Interpol’s tightness in their writing and production has been one of their strongest points in the past, and it is again here.

The album’s best quality may also be it’s most immediate fault. Where “Our Love to Admire” and “Interpol” were insufficient Interpol albums, they did provide some highly listenable songs – “No I in Threesome,” “The Heinrich Maneuver” and “the Lighthouse” from the former, “Barricade” and “Lights” from the latter. There aren’t any songs that demand immediate re-listens on “El Pintor.” It’s an interesting imbalance, that exists within Interpol, where their better albums work well as a whole and and don’t have more standout songs. “El Pintor” works as a whole, and it’s a little tough to just causally listen to any track. But at the same time, it makes it such a stronger album. I listen to “Barricade” all the time, but I’ll gladly say “El Pintor” is a better album. This imbalance exists on their still classic first two albums, “Turn On the Bright Lights” and “Antics.” The better an Interpol album is, the tougher it is to digest.

But, look, so much of reviewing any type of media is comparing it to something done before. And that’s usually not fair to the thing being reviewed. So let’s talk about what makes “El Pintor” subtly, but radically different from any other Interpol album – optimism. It isn’t outward, but it is noticeable. The band is still singing gloom and doom, but it’s a new light – gloom and doom has an end. Even the excellently-titled “Everything is Wrong” has an optimistic streak. It doesn’t overwhelm the album; don’t think the band is suddenly sunshine and fresh fruit, “El Pintor” is still dark and complex. But there’s a slight optimistic streak that’s never existed in the band before.

“El Pintor” might not quite live up to it’s early predecessors, but it’s a great album in its own right. It’s never more evident than in the opening track, “All the Rage Back Home,” which starts with a typical Interpol-ly broody intro before kicking into a pseudo-club beat. It’s unexpected – way unexpected – but it all works. And as much as I, personally, have enjoyed every Interpol album almost equally, it’s refreshing to say that it’s working. Interpol have adjusted to new circumstances remarkably well. They seem to be doing well. They seem happy, or, at least, content.

If you like this, try: the Strokes kinda-comeback album, “Comedown Machine.” “Angles” was garbage so that’s their true comeback.

-By Andrew McNally

U2 – “Songs of Innocence”

(Photo Credit: www.engadget.com)

(Photo Credit: http://www.engadget.com)

Grade: C-

Key Tracks: “The Miracle (Of Joey Ramone)” “Cedarwood Road”

There’s a new U2 album out. It’s called “Songs of Innocence,” and you probably found it in your iTunes account. It’s free. Take it or leave it, listen to it or don’t, because nothing has ever mattered less. It’s not very good, but it’s what you’d expect from a U2 album. Exactly.

U2’s personally invasive new album has an interesting marketing strategy – ‘what if people just, like, had it?’ The band is giving their album away for free to all iTunes users in all countries, which in any year past 2005, is about everyone. It’s bold, but when you consider the band’s often convoluted and conflicting messages, it, like the album itself, is just another thing to hold against them.

U2, on this album, are practicing both of the worst evils. There are some songs, like “California (There is No End to Love),” that don’t sound like U2’s template. And then there are some, like “Iris (Hold Me Close),” that fit their template exactly. Listen to the song and tell me it doesn’t fit in just as easily on “War,” or “Atomic Bomb,” or “Joshua Tree.” “Songs of Innocence” is filled with songs that either sound way too much like U2, or not nearly enough. U2’s go-to template isn’t exactly run dry – it’s never truly been copied (though Coldplay’s still trying), but it is tired. There’s only so many high-neck frets the Edge can touch, and he’s pretty much exhausted them. U2’s problem in 2014 is ultimately the same they faced in the 90’s – they don’t know how to do anything new.

“Songs of Innocence” is constructed in typical U2 fashion. The first song has a certain energy, and the Edge contributes an admittedly nice riff. The next four songs, meanwhile, are all slow pop-ish ballads that kill any momentum set up by the opener. The last six songs see the band relaxing and trying out different influences – there’s a great bluesy song (“Cedarwood Road”) and a pretty meh synth-based one (“Sleep Like a Baby Tonight”) among the mix. There’s also a few rockers, that could’ve benefited from a different track order. That’s pretty much been the standard since U2’s 90’s experiments.

But, look, a straight review doesn’t matter because 1) Everyone’s got this album for free, so you might as well listen to it and 2) U2’s the biggest goddamned band on this planet, so my stray observations aren’t going to influence anyone. So, let’s talk instead about this questionable marketing strategy. U2’s previous album, 2009’s kinda actually underrated “No Line on the Horizon” became a thorn for the band. Bono was unimpressed with the album’s sales. It produced only one hit, and not a big one, and it sold less than almost every prior album of theirs. So the band was a little scared that they are no longer “relevant” in today’s music, and took to a newer strategy than straight album sales. But here’s the thing – that album “underperforming” still meant hitting #1 in 30 countries, setting sales records in Brazil, becoming the seventh highest selling album in 2009 globally, and producing the highest-grossing tour in history. That’s U2 on a bad day. So was this questionable, unwarranted release necessary? No, it wasn’t. And it goes against the album’s themes.

“Songs of Innocence” is largely centered around the band’s members growing up in their native Ireland, listening to punk music. Their opener is even titled, “The Miracle (Of Joey Ramone).” And they released this album for free, that’s a very punk thing to do. But, it’s the band’s fortieth anniversary (Ruby!), and they’ve always tried to be punk, and they’ve never succeeded. Releasing your album for free is completely negated when it’s not only through the world’s biggest corporation, but against it’s customer’s wills. That’s not punk. That’s way not punk. And it’s not like U2 is the first to release their music for free, or by surprise – “Beyonce” wasn’t attached to any corporate releases, and “In Rainbows” and “The Slip” were released for free simply for fan appreciation (and both in 2008). iTunes users don’t really have a choice in whether they want to download the album or not, and sure you can just delete it right after, but still. U2 has so much shoved up their asses that it’s the absolute opposite of punk. 5 million wasn’t a big enough of a reach for the band, so they hit a bigger reach regardless of the financial losses with it.

So one final note on the marketing. If you’re gonna do a bold strategy, you’d better have the album to back it up. “Beyonce” was a rap/R&B/pop odyssey and “In Rainbows” was an unnervingly melodic album. “The Slip” didn’t work that well, and NIN didn’t have as much success with it. This album doesn’t work well. It’s like every other U2 album, pretty much no better or worse. People getting it for free are likely going to shrug and accept it, maybe listen to it once and forget about it. There’s nothing special about this album, and release strategy be damned, the quality of the music is still what’s going to grab people. Maybe, U2, you should actually just accept that you don’t know how to play any other songs. You’re still going to get millions.

If you like this, try: Going outside, for once

-By Andrew McNally

Blonde Redhead – “Barragan”

Grade: C-

Key Tracks: “Dripping” “Defeatist Anthem (Harry and I)”

The first song on “Barragan,” the title track, is a breezy intro. It has a little acoustic guitar, and nature-y sounds of birds and wind; very calming. ‘Surprising’ might be another word to use. Blonde Redhead set up to change their image on “Barragan,” delivering more of a typical indie sound then their usual convoluted noise-rock inspired alternative. The result isn’t great. The album is left feeling largely empty, pointless and phoned in.

The album still has it’s moments. There are two stand out songs – the catchy and electro-brooding of “Dripping” is more akin to their better works, and the multi-chaptered story “Defeatist Anthem (Harry and I)” is a fulfilling listen. The latter is written and performed as a few smaller songs, each complementing a larger work. These two tracks still show a hint at an enthusiasm that isn’t really present on the rest of the album. The album’s production is particularly crisp, which does the best it can to benefit the minimalist, soft sound. Frequent use of calming sound effects – birds, typewriters, wind – adds to the album’s cooling sound, and the production enhances it.

But rambling about the production for the positives paragraph isn’t a good sign. There are some interesting songs on the album, but there are some that just feel lifeless. “Penultimo,” which is – you guessed it – the second to last song, is forgettably dull. The band’s problem isn’t that they aren’t inspired – choosing this point in their career to overhaul their sound is evident of that. Their problem rests in not being able to properly transcribe their desire to rework themselves. A majority of the songs on “Barragan” sound phoned in, like they’re changing their image for no real purpose. A band like Blonde Redhead shouldn’t need to feed into the already overbloated indie scene, but they are. The needlessly long “Mind to Be Had” (at 8:47) feels directly reminiscent of the needlessly long Death Cab song “I Will Possess Your Heart” (at 8:26), in that both feature a 3+ minute intro that’s painfully repetitive and time-killing.

It, like many other songs on “Barragan” just feels it’s missing something. There’s too many underhand pitches with no direction and a thin sound. “Barragan” feels like a map that the mapmaker didn’t bother to put any names on. The album is easy to absorb, with it’s soft sounds, but it’s nothing more, and that’s not the type of band Blonde Redhead has been. So kudos to a band always trying to keep things unique, but it just didn’t work this time. “Barragan” has no oomph, no back to it, and it’s pretty boring because of it.

If you like this, try: For a much better representation of a 90’s noise-rock-inspired group unexpectedly changing their output, try Sonic Youth’s 2006 “Rather Ripped.”

-By Andrew McNally

Prawn – “Kingfisher”

Grade: B+

Key Tracks: “Scud Running” “Absurd Walls”

Emo revivalists Prawn’s new album is full of light, airy and melodic songs that are often vague in tone but practiced in music. Though it has it’s weak moments, Prawn have been an uniquely line-teetering band for years, and “Kingfisher” only goes to continue it.

A Kingfisher is a bird. Specifically, a type of bright, distinct and goofy looking bird. One that has been known to eat fish. In many ways, a kingfisher is everything that Prawn is not. Prawn is vague and unassuming, at first. Their music isn’t showy, especially for emo. It’s rhythmic and often lucid, blending together into something that’s surprisingly pleasant. So a kingfisher makes sense, as the band spends the album threatening to be consumed by various existential forces (much like a fish getting swallowed up). It’s either ironic or totally fitting that Prawn have spent the last few years hanging out in the limelight of the emo revival. While some (Snowing, teen suicide) made news with almost immediate breakups, and some (TWIABPAIANLATD, the Front Bottoms) strain themselves to make something jarring and original, Prawn have been building their own blend of guitar rhythms and aligning melodies that’s more soothing than it is jarring – something that isn’t designed to make as immediate of an impact at first.

And “Kingfisher” is certainly filled with those interesting melodies. The album starts and ends with strings, that fall away for the eight songs in between. And the album does dissolve into straight rock – happening infrequently enough that it’s a surprise each time. Loopy guitar rhythms are big in emo these days, but Prawn bring it up a notch by relying equally on melodies that are either very repetitive or different throughout. “Prolonged Exposure” is a guitar-heavy track that emphasizes this, as is “Absurd Walls,” where twin guitar rhythms compete in the background, one giving way to sounding like a siren. Prawn have learned to embrace both slower, ambient songs, and louder, rocking ones, and hit every notch in between on “Kingfisher.”

On a lyrical note, the album does get kind of frustratingly vague. It’s filled with typically deep, sad, statements, often opting for philosophical questions about some hypothetical, impending disasters rather than any direct and reflective poetry. Sometimes, like on “Glass, Irony” it can work, with the line “It’s hard to hide in dire straits” shoved to the forefront of the song. Other times, like on “Thalassa,” it gets clunky. “I’m glad you found clarity in ambiguity” is repeated a few times at the song’s climax, a line that doesn’t exactly sound fresh. Some of the songs could’ve used some clarity themselves.

But “Kingfisher” is still a very strong release, one that’s both pleasant and devastating. Prawn are at the top of their game and, even if the top of their game is positioned in the genre’s background, then it’s what they’ve learned to excel in. At times sweet, at times sour, “Kingfisher” is just as good as we’ve come to expect from Prawn.

“Kingfisher” is out tomorrow, 8/12, on Topshelf Records.

You Blew It! – “You Blue It”

Grade: A-

Key Track: “Surf Wax America”

The never-ending and ultimately inane debate about Weezer’s place in 90’s emo has been revived again, with Weezer’s influence on hybrid emo/pop-punk seen heavily in the past few years. So it only makes sense for a band like You Blew It! to do a series of Weezer covers. The band, right on the heels of their excellent sophomore album “Keep Doing What You’re Doing,” embody Weezer’s amped-up style of lovable-but-lonely fuzz-rock. The five songs they cover, all from Weezer’s legendary debut, are less covers and more progressions, showing how much Weezer really has influenced today’s emo.

The purpose of this EP wasn’t notoriety, the band stayed away from the Blue Album’s most recognizable songs – “Buddy Holly,” “Say It Ain’t So,” and “Undone” – in favor for some deeper cuts. “My Name is Jonas” and “Surf Wax America” are still recognized songs, but less so, and “In the Garage,” “Only In Dreams” and B-side “Susanne” are still somehow deep cuts. You Blew It! keep the songs mostly intact, preserving their integrity instead of flashing them up in any way.
“In the Garage” kicks the EP off, and it actually lacks the energy that the original boasts, as the band takes a more lackluster approach – either a reflection of emo’s slow draining of energy, or just a build up into the more accurate cover of “My Name is Jonas.” They keep the song almost as it is originally, as they probably should, adding only some reverb at the end.

“Only In Dreams” gets drastically shortened and moved to the midpoint, although it still serves as the longest song (as did the original version). “Surf Wax America” is probably the EP’s best song, with the band changing up the opening riff into a more emo-friendly rhythm before launching into a cover with just as much energy and guitar as the original. “Susanne,” meanwhile, is presented as a low-key acoustic track with a more lo-fi sound.

You Blew It!’s adherence to Weezer’s original, largely simple songs is reflective of a band honoring their influences instead of trying to overcome them. Weezer’s Blue Album has stood against time – we’re all still listening to it like it’s our first time. The Blue Album, whether Weezer was trying to or not, laid a template for pop-punk today, and You Blew It! is just the band to watch their throne. “You Blue It” is more about reflecting the progress of emo than it is about either band, showing how it’s evolved in form, and how it hasn’t really actually evolved at all. These are five reliable homages, as one band in their prime honors another from theirs.

-By Andrew McNally

The Front Bottoms – “Rose”

 

Grade: A-

Key Tracks: “12 Feet Deep” “Jim Bogart”

Leave it to a band like the Front Bottoms to put a reviewer in a tough spot on whether to call these songs “new” or not. Because these songs are freshly recorded. But they certainly aren’t new. The first five tracks that make up “Rose” – “Flying Model Rockets,” “Lipstick Covered Magnet,” “12 Feet Deep,” “Jim Bogart,” and “Be Nice to Me” – are re-recordings of older songs, with “Awkward Conversations” the only freshly recorded one. The Front Bottoms released three albums before their perfect 2011 ‘debut’ self-titled, “Brothers Can’t Be Friends,” “I Hate My Friends” and “My Grandma vs. Pneumonia,” respectively. But all three are only available in the deepest corners of the internet, so buried that even some of their more adamant friends aren’t even aware of them. They’ve played these songs live, though, and they’ve become staples, so they’re getting a proper release in the first of a set of EP’s named after the duo’s grandmothers.

The song with the most remarkable difference is “12 Feet Deep,” always one of my personal favorite Front Bottoms songs. “Because you are water twelve feet deep / and I am boots made of concrete” proved in c. 2010 to be an emotionally impacting line, reflecting a relationship that isn’t healthy but still committed. But in 2014, a more steady drumline and more inspired vocals transform it into a more optimistic and hopeful relationship, without altering any of the words. All throughout the EP, there’s lyrics about school and parents, which still sound fresh in Brian Sella’s non-aging voice. The poetry of early Front Bottoms is more natural; less forced than some of the corny couplets on last year’s “Talon of the Hawk.”

Musically, the band has it more together now than they did then. That’s another added bonus of re-recording – the only real fault of their early albums is some messy music, when they were still learning what they were doing. It’s more refined on “Rose,” though still a little off the rails, of course. “Jim Bogart” ditches the inside-a-box production, and adds trumpet and and a slick little keyboard rhythm to build up to the drum entrance. In one way, the songs feel stripped down on this EP – more confined and controlled, sometimes fewer instruments, and with a better production. But in another way, they feel even more expanded and in your face than they did before – the benefit of a band that’s since settled into a signature sound.

It was a smart idea for the band to release these older songs, revamped. Relative fame, a constant touring schedule (and a namedrop alongside the National and Daft Punk in this NYT article) have had the unfortunate drawback of their youthful, innocently downtrodden lyrics sounding less believable. A decidedly terrible full-length didn’t help that, either. So although the band is reaching a wider and wider audience, their music is sounding less personable and less impacting. These six songs show how youthful and energetic the Front Bottoms really are, and by re-recording them, they’ve proven that they haven’t really changed at all. It’s sad, it’s fun, it’s poetic and easy to relate to, so it’s all you’ve come to expect from them. The only criticism? It doesn’t include “The Cops.” And that’s really a personal criticism. Maybe on a future EP.

-By Andrew McNally