Pink Floyd – “The Endless River”

 

Grade: C+

Key Tracks: “Skins” “Anisina” “Allons-y”

Let’s get this out of the way – in high school, I owned or had a burned copy of every Pink Floyd album. I knew every album, it’s themes and intricacies. I was with the band in the highs (“Dark Side of the Moon,” “Animals”) and the lows (“Obscured by Clouds,” “The Final Cut”). I was on-board for big hits and deeper, 20+ minute cuts. So when I heard there was a new release, I was understandably a bit tentative. It’s worth noting, before anything, that the album is almost entirely instrumental and comprised of outtakes from sessions recorded for their proper swan song, 1994’s “The Division Bell.”

This album has eighteen tracks, but really only 4. It channels some of their crazier 70’s albums that only had 4 or 5 tracks, but maintains a steady, standard and more traditional post-Waters calmness. The four tracks are broken up every few minutes, as the members saw fit, and are further broken up by record side. I don’t personally think that David Gilmour and Nick Mason would want you to think of this as a great Pink Floyd record, it’s more self-serving to fans. And it acts as a sequel to “Wish You Were Here,” in that it’s a proper sendoff to a past member. Richard Wright, longtime keyboardist, was the only member besides drummer Nick Mason who was with the band for their entire run. He passed away in 2008, but this album’s strongest points are his.

Pink Floyd had a long, legendary run. It started with “Astronomy Domine,” in 1967, and ended with “High Hopes” in 1994. The biggest problem with “The Endless River” is that it upsets this legacy. The band never went more than a few years without releasing an album, even in the midst of a bitter Waters v. Gilmour feud. And while “The Division Bell” wasn’t a great send-off, “High Hopes” was a decent closing song. So, twenty years later, when the surviving, recording members decide to release an album of unused, ambient tracks, it seems a little tarnishing.

But, isn’t that a Pink Floyd thing to do? Think about their discography – they followed up two of the biggest rock albums of all time – “Dark Side of the Moon” and “Wish You Were Here” with the almost utterly incomprehensible “Animals” – and pulled it off. “The Division Bell” was disappointing because it was too close to normal post-classic rock classic rock. What better way to follow that up than with an almost entirely instrumental album? One that’s four songs, split up into eighteen?

I’ve been pretty back and forth so far, so let’s review this album, idea to idea. The first three tracks make up the first side, and although they’re little more than a dreamy intro, they’re Wright-heavy. His presence is felt, and it feels like a proper tribute, recorded by the man himself. At points, the opening tracks sound similar to “Welcome to the Machine,” in their frozen, abrasive keyboards. The next section, four tracks, is a little less ambient and gazy, and a little more rock oriented. It’s cool overall, although it strongly favors the odd-numbered tracks. “Skins” features some energetic contributions from both Mason and Gilmour, and “Anisina” is backed by an unexpected horn section.

Side three is the strongest, if not the most bogged down in tracks. It takes up seven tracks in just under fourteen minutes. It would work a lot better as just one thirteen minute song, but in this day and age, this isn’t the Pink Floyd we get. There’s two tracks called “Allons-y,” two parts, and they’re similar to the “Another Brick in the Wall” segments, in that they’re small segments of a bigger rock song. And they both have that tremolo guitar, too, going after that 1979 sound. It closes with the track “Talkin’ Hawkin’,” which features Stephen Hawking on a vocal sample. It’s weird simply because it isn’t fully pulled off, and you know it should work better. The album’s last section, four tracks, are another more ambient section. But the section closes with “Louder Than Words,” the album’s only song with lead vocals. Gilmour sings lead, and it has a semi-unintentional effect of building up to it.

Floyd fans, read this: this album is no better or worse of a send-off than “The Division Bell.” Casual fans, read this: this album is an experimental work, focused solely on music, that was released 20 years later not as a reminder but as a requiem for the former keyboardist. Either way, although it isn’t a great album, it’s nice to simply hear from the guys behind it. Without Wright or Barrett, or Waters, Floyd is simply Gilmour, Mason and supporting characters. So to hear these throwbacks to a time when they were winding down, but not closing out, is a little special. “The Endless River” has almost no lyrics, but for a band that once put out “Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict,” that’s not much of an issue. So Pink Floyd’s swan song isn’t the masterpiece they deserve, but it is at least a solid collection to go out on. RIP Floyd, thanks for defining high school for me.

-By Andrew McNally

Foo Fighters – “Sonic Highways”

Grade: C-

Key Tracks: “Something From Nothing” “What Did I Do?/God As My Witness”

Ever visit a coffeeshop or restaurant enough that the staff knows your order? You walk in and they’re already making it? That’s what the Foo Fighters are like. Their albums are entirely softball pitches, the musical equivalent of treading water. 2007’s “Long Road to Ruin” sounds just like 1995’s “This is a Call” which sounds just like 2002’s “All My Life.” They gleefully play music that’s expected. And there’s nothing wrong with that, other than new albums being predictable almost to the song. It’s to the point where I never even bothered listening to 2011’s “Wasting Light.” But this album is different – it’s a proto-concept album. Eight tracks, each recorded in a different city, “in the vein” of that city’s music scene. It’s a great concept – but they don’t pull it off all that well. It varies heavily by track. They tried to keep their signature sound, but it’s similar to someone hugging you and letting go just enough so you can breathe again.

The cities they cover are, in order: Chicago, DC, Nashville, Austin, Los Angeles, New Orleans, Seattle, and New York. And each track offers a guest musician from that city, although like the songs themselves, both their involvement and the marquee quality of their names vary wildly. Since “Sonic Highways” is so inconsistent, it’s best just to discuss the album track by track. Ready? This might take a while. Let’s go:

1) “Something From Nothing” – Chicago. It’s fair to say that, with exception maybe to LA, Chicago has the weakest music scene of the cities done. This is the leadoff single, and arguably one of the album’s better songs, though hurt unintentionally by a lack of uniform scene in the city. Contributing baritone-guitarist Rick Nielsen (of Cheap Trick and 5-neck guitar fame) adds a weird and jarring dimension to the song with a murky rhythm that sinks the song’s pitch. The song builds, slowly, to a nice climax too. The band take their time more on this album – five of the eight songs are over five minutes. Sometimes it doesn’t work, but this is a pretty strong Foo Fighters song.

2) “The Feast and the Famine” – DC. There’s no reason why this one shouldn’t work, but it’s a mixed bag. Every Foo Fighter grew up playing in punk bands – most notable being Pat Smear founding Germs. So the band tries to rope in the 80’s DC hardcore scene, even so much as bringing in members of Bad Brains on vocals. But what results isn’t a punk song, just a fast radio rock song, intense, but no more so than, say, “Low” or “I’ll Stick Around.”

3) “Congregation” – Nashville. I’m just going to come out and say that this track is boring. It lost my attention as it drags past five minutes, far too long in this case. It’s also impossible to tell what Nashville’s music scene is from it. The inclusion of Zac Brown should be an indicator, but it’s just an average, dull rock song. There’s no Tennessee in it at all.

4) “What Did I Do? / God as My Witness” – Austin. This, by contrast, is by far the most interesting and enjoyable song. It’s titled twice, and there is a stoppage in the middle – but it’s distinctly one song. It’s one of the Foo’s more inventive tracks, and it doesn’t feel long even though it’s 32 seconds more than the long-feeling “Congregation.” Blues guitar virtuoso Gary Clark, Jr., is brought in, and although his inspiration isn’t felt until the solo-heavy climax, it’s worthwhile. He’s one of the better used guests, and the it’s one of the more city-inspired tracks. It has just the faintest blues and country elements, both musically and lyrically.

5) “Outside” – Los Angeles. This is an energetic track, though pretty average. It’s helped by a great solo from Joe Walsh. There’s very little to say about, other than it gives me an excuse to listen to a Joe Walsh solo without having to suffer through an Eagles song.

6) “In the Clear” – New Orleans. Foo Fighters bring in Preservation Hall Jazz Band, the legendary, decades-running collective, and completely waste them by burying them under their own guitars. Foos could’ve made a cool, jazzy track, but it’s got no Jazz Band and no New Orleans, just another Foo Fighters song with some occasional, distant horns.

7) “Subterranean” – Seattle. This is another city that they really shouldn’t have messed up given, you know, Dave Grohl being in Nirvana and all. But it doesn’t represent Seattle’s music scene very well. It’s a boring, midtempo song, completely devoid of the insanity that blessed Nirvana, early Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains. That might be the work of sadsack crybaby guest musician Ben Gibbard, of Death Cab for Cutie and Postal Service fame. His music is dryer and more medium paced, much like this song. Then again, given that he is entirely indiscernible on the song, it might not be.

8) “I Am a River” – New York. Taken just as a closing song, this one’s pretty strong. It creeps along, building ever so slowly into a proper album finale climax. Put it on a different album, it would work great. I just didn’t get what faction of New York it was representing. New York’s “music scene” is largely punk-based, but there’s indie and, well, Frank Sinatra thrown in too. The only NY band I could come up with that this resembled was Interpol, and while I love Interpol, I don’t know that they’re quite the caliber band that the Foo Fighters are going to play off of. Also, this track has the most disappointing guest in Tony Visconti. No disrespect to Visconti – his work with David Bowie throughout decades is tremendous. It’s just that when you’re combing the biggest city in the country, the one that is the music home of Karen O, Patti Smith, Julian Casablancas, BB King, and the surviving Beastie Boys, Tony Visconti seems like an oddly subtle choice. Visconti, like every guest except Bad Brains and Preservation Hall Jazz Band, contributes guitar.

This is a weird album. Foo Fighters, or at least Grohl, seem deeply wrapped up in this concept of music scenes in cities. We’re not really getting let in on that concept as much as the band thinks. We can’t celebrate the music of Seattle or DC when it’s just another Foo Fighters song that happens to have a guest star you can hardly decipher. So my recommendation, if you’re going to listen to this album – don’t play into the concept. Just listen to it as a straight Foo Fighters album. It still won’t be great – the tracks will go on too long and it won’t quite have the flow that its predecessors do. But it’s probably more enjoyable when you don’t factor in the effort of an extensive and expensive recording process, with city influence. Just don’t think about it. Foo Fighters have never been a challenging band, there’s no reason for them to start now.

-By Andrew McNally

Rancid – “…Honor Is All We Know”

Grade: C+

Key Tracks: “Back Where I Belong” “Already Dead”

When you listen to an album like “…Honor Is All We Know,” the most immediate question is usually, who is this for? Rancid is facing the same problem many bands past the 20 year mark face – when you’ve made a career off a template, what do you do when it runs dry? This new album, their eighth, brings nothing new to the game, other than just reminding everyone they’re still going. But with a band like Rancid, that’s not such a bad thing.

2009’s “Let the Dominoes Fall” wasn’t a bad album, but it was pretty ho-hum. It was largely ska-based and lacked a real Rancid energy. This was all put forth in the lead single, “Last One to Die.” The meta-song acknowledged the fact that all of Rancid’s contemporaries have disbanded, died, gone through extensive line-up changes, or released “American Idiot.” But it also unintentionally admitted that they’ve been going too long, they’re sticking around just because they have no reason not to. This album’s best song is, probably with reason, “Already Dead.” This album brings the band’s energy back, even if there’s no reason for it’s existence.

In typical Rancid fashion, the first F-bomb comes within the first 30 seconds of opener “Back Where I Belong.” This might only be a facade of old Rancid, but they’re at least trying. Lyrically, the album is pretty scattershot. They’re pretty standard lyrics, about fighting when you’re down, gangs, East Bay, etc. Standard song titles – “Diabolical,” “Everybody’s Sufferin,'” “Raise Your Fist.” The most heavy-handed but direct lyrics might come curiosity of “Evil’s My Friend.” That title takes up some of the chorus, and it’s a laughably stereotypical Rancid song – what you could hope for in 2014. It’s unintentionally comical, but still so distinctly them.

The ellipses at the beginning of the album title is bold, because it subtly heralds a sequel album. 1995’s “…And Out Come the Wolves” is a punk legend. Stop and think – “Time Bomb,” “Roots Radical,” “Ruby Soho” and “Maxwell Murder” are all on that album. So announcing a sequel 19 years later, especially when most of your albums already sound the same, is bold. To Rancid’s credit, having most of music sound the same actually helps them here, as this could easily be a sequel. They pulled off two excellent, unrelated self-titled albums, one in ’93 and one in ’00, so there’s no reason a sequel can’t work. They’re just not the same level they were in ’95. At points, they sound tired, and at many points, they sound like a parody of themselves. Tim Armstrong and Lars Frederiksen have always shared lead vocals, but for the most part, neither sounds like themselves here. Frederiksen’s growly vocals sound forced, and Armstrong is out of energy. It’s easy to ignore, for the most part, but there are moments where it’s jarring. And that best track, “Already Dead”? They sound like ’95 Rancid on that one, so it’s off-setting.

So the album isn’t great, it’s just a collection of street-punk songs. But, you need to factor some things in. The collective age of Rancid is 175, average age being 44. That’s with the younger, replacement drummer factored in. Armstrong and Matt Freeman are both 48, respectively. Most bands, even punk bands, aren’t still going this hard at this time. So credit there. And they’re playing to a fanbase. What street punk is today is based almost exclusively off of Rancid. They’ve only expanded once – on ’98’s “Life Won’t Wait,” – before going right back to their quick attacks. So they have to be a little self-serving.

I’ve been listening to Rancid since high school, we’re going on eight or nine years. I’m not the fan I used to be, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get pumped when “Rejected” or “Axiom” come up on shuffle. I’m pleased with this record. They’re here, still giving it their all, telling us they don’t want to be just a placeholder band, releasing the same crap over and over again. They kind of are, but they’ve still got the energy. This is actually their shortest record, and it’s a little symbolic. It’s shorter than “…And Out Come the Wolves” by 1:33 – that’s a full Rancid song. Knowing that feels right, like they’re still in it. Rancid fans, and street punk fans in general, might listen to “…Honor is All We Know” once and discard it – but it deserves at least that listen. It’s stagnant, but it at least tries to resemble old Rancid, and it’s worth a listen. How much more than that is the listener’s own decision, but there’s a few tracks I might come back to.

If you like this, try: Bad Religion’s 2013 album “True North.” They took a back to basics approach – which for them is back to ’84 – and released an album full of 1:45 punk blasts. It’s great, they haven’t missed a beat.

-By Andrew McNally

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

Taylor Swift – “1989”

Grade: B

Key Tracks: “Out of the Woods” “Shake It Off”

Taylor Swift’s first full foray into pop music is a beautiful mess, an experimentation in something that’s never an experiment. For the most part, “1989” is standard-fare pop, behind equal parts music and vocals. Swift’s music really isn’t any different, it’s just more pop-based. It doesn’t always work, but it’s more than enjoyable enough to make up for it’s weaker moments.

“1989” plays like a typical pop album. It flows through songs upbeat and ballad, with fairly standard lyrics. Opener “Welcome to New York” is a little slow to open a pop album, but it’s got a strong synth beat and the lyrics about the country’s biggest city mark a snarky metaphorical change from small town country. The album is held up by strong synth rhythms throughout. “Style” is helped by a synth beat, as is the Imogen Heap-collaborative finale, “Clean.” And, massive smash “Shake It Off” has a pretty strong rhythm to it too.

Swift’s lyrics are pretty self-serving. She knows her audience, her lyrics pander most to pseudo-literary young women, the type of songs that are relatable to a girl in high school but have a poetic aura. If Swift’s lyrics didn’t win you over before, they probably won’t here. They’re not bad – just not for everyone. “Shake It Off” is one of her stronger songs, rallying against sexist portrayals of her relationships in the media. “Clean” marks an interesting simile between a break-up and curing addiction. But the strongest lyrical song is probably “Out of the Woods,” a track with music written by Jack Antonoff. It deals with relationships, as always, but it’s more subversive and just a little darker than listeners are used to.

What makes this album different is principle. It’s: “Hey, T Swift’s doing something kinda different,” and that works for it. Transpose these songs into a different singer’s catalog and half of them wouldn’t register any sort of response, but Swift is experimenting in conventionality. And what results is an imperfect record that feels like it wants to be imperfect. It’s cohesive and tight, and asks to be weighed as a whole instead of by individual track. It’s kind of a mess, but it succeeds because of it. It’s a fitful new direction for Swift to go in and it’s easy to forgive the mistakes.

-By Andrew McNally

Side note: This review took a while partially because I just don’t have time, but partially because I had the stream the album track by track via Tumblr. I get the marketing strategy of pulling it off Spotify but I don’t necessarily agree with it. It doesn’t sit well with fans.

Pharmakon – “Bestial Burden”

Grade: B

Key Track: “Bestial Burden”

One of my biggest regrets of 2013 was never getting a chance to review Pharmakon’s proper debut album, “Abandon.” Pharmakon, industrial-noise based project of Margaret Chardiet, is one of the harshest acts out there, and “Abandon” still serves as just a brutal listen start to finish. Due to unforeseen health circumstances, Chardiet had to cancel the first major Pharmakon tour and get emergency surgery. While she was recovering, she wrote a follow-up: “Bestial Burden.” The album is menacing and brutal, more inward and deprecating, but also with its moments of honesty and musicality.

I take notes when I listen to albums. For the first track, “Vaccuum,” my notes only say “just breathing.” It’s an intro, one that is just the sound of heavy, panicked breaths. Sure, it’s nothing compared to the sonic assault of “Abandon,” but it sets the album’s tone. This album is frantic, not just devoted to volume but to dissonance and to issues of health and well-being. The first true track, “Intent or Instinct” is noticeably more industrial than anything on “Abandon.” For eight and a half minutes it soldiers on – the first scream comes in around the three-and-a-half minute mark, and the industrial beat never sways, even as the screaming gets more intense.

This constant, industrial tone is one that stays throughout the album. It marks a departure from the abrasive synth blasts of before, although it is still an assault on the ears. But the album is structured in its noise. The tracks have steady, unfaltering industrial beats that oftentimes border on the verge of being rhythmic. Or at least, consistent. Pharmakon have always had a way of finding rhythms in pure noise, but this album does it more cleanly and more directly than before.

After Chardiet had to undergo emergency surgery before her first European tour, she began writing a more introspective work. This album is the result. It’s noticeable in the album covers alone – “Abandon,” with a pair of skinny legs (presumably Chardiet’s), covered in maggots, to this one – insides. This album is inside the body. Songs about health and the body. The title track has the repetition of the line “I don’t belong here,” coupled with laughing.

Both “Abandon” and “Bestial Burden” have bonus tracks, and they’re indicative of the albums themselves. “Sour Sap,” from “Abandon,” is a blistering 27 minute hell journey through screaming and pure white noise. But “Bang Bang,” on “Bestial Burden,” is the straightest song Pharmakon’s ever done. Sure, it’s about getting murdered, but it gives Chardiet a chance to actually sing, instead of screaming, and she has a pretty accommodating voice. The longest track on “Bestial Burden” is “Intent or Instinct,” at eight and a half minutes. Though longer than any of the non-bonus songs on “Abandon,” the album’s songs feel shorter. And they are – there’s more shorter pieces, instead of a few long ones. It allows the album to feel like a journey through the mind and body; a disturbing trek through a broken and disturbed being. Interlude “Primitive Struggle” is just a man coughing over an increasingly fast heartbeat – so simple, but so demanding.

To jump into Pharmakon, you have to know to expect screaming, slammed-down synth notes, and a perpetual feel of pure terror lurking around the corner. “Bestial Burden” takes an inward stance, and the result is more structured, but no less full-frontal. If “Abandon” challenged insanity, then “Bestial Burden” challenges injury. It isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s abrasive and brutal, almost palpable in its intensity. Industrial-noise is called so for a reason, and although the album might not be as immediately terrifying or numbing as “Abandon,” it is still confounding and abrasive, and only for the most committed and toughest listeners. Have fun picking through it, Pharmakon is here to stay.

If you like this, try: Spinning Death Grips records backwards or something, I have no idea.

-By Andrew McNally

Ross Hammond & Grant Calvin Weston – “Blues and Daily News”

Grade: B+

Key Tracks: “Blue Teeth” “Aquarium Salt”

“Blues and Daily News,” a collaborative album between jazz guitarist Ross Hammond and drummer Grant Calvin Weston, came about by Weston recording improvised drum parts and mailing them to other artists. Hammond’s contributions led to the track “Little Melon Head,” which led to a full album recorded in the same vein. The 10 tracks are all short blasts of improvised guitar and drums, spiraling through jazz, funk and country rhythms, amongst other influences.

Hammond’s guitar is virtuosic throughout, as he improvs his way through many different styles. We get glimpses of rock, in opener “Huff, Puff, and Blow It All Down” and “Blues and Daily News.” “Aquarium Salt” is led by an ambient, minimalistic rhythm in the background. And “Blue Teeth” is centered around very twangy, slide-heavy country rhythms. “Little Melon Head” even has a Latin flare to it. Hammond’s musical knowledge of genres, and his ability to bounce through and around them is impressive. “The Big Dipper” is also a noteworthy track, simply because Hammond hits an intensity higher than any other track. Hammond’s improvisation style is structured, as much as improv can be. He feeds off his own rhythms and ideas, maintaining a consistent sound in each track without falling into doing anything actually repetitive.

But one of the album’s most interesting qualities is how the two musicians vary in their improv styles – Weston’s drumming is much more unfiltered and manic. It is impressive and technical from start to finish, and it’s more unstructured style provides a stark contrast to Hammond’s guitar. It adds a chaotic balance. Weston also shines on “The Big Dipper,” his strongest track. His drumming complements the quicker-than-normal guitar of the track. Weston is prominent on “Aquarium Salt,” as Hammond takes a backseat and lets Weston work. Weston often adds rock drumming to his jazz, as much Ginger Baker as Buddy Rich.

As mentioned, the album blends influences together. Country, ambient, rock, jazz and others are explored. The final track, “Get Ready to Meet God,” is even centered around a snippet of an interview with Muhammad Ali. There are a number of interesting ideas on “Blues and Daily News,” and although some of them could have been extended more, it makes for a unique listen. Hammond and Weston play off each other nicely, and the combination of non-jazz styles in a jazz platform makes for some fun and independent songs.

This album is especially surprising, given how it stands as a stark contrast to Hammond’s “Humanity Suite,” which I reviewed in March. Stream and download “Blues and Daily News” here.

-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.

Tinashe – “Aquarius”

Grade: A-

Key Tracks: “Bet” “2 On” “Bated Breath”

There are a number of goals an artist has to have going into a debut album, but maybe the most important is signifying your sound and immediately making it your own. Tinashe does this and more, with her hip-hop/R&B blend and smart lyrics coming together in one of the year’s biggest surprises.

“Aquarius” doesn’t subscribe to any genres. This is growing typical of the hybrid R&B/hip-hop genre that is melting together and becoming it’s own being, but this album is especially inclusive. Tinashe comes out of the gate brimming with confidence, knowing she can pull off any of the ideas that come up. And she does – from sultry R&B, to smooth vocal ballads to a straight DJ Mustard track (“2 On,” which you’ve heard a million times, but it still hasn’t gotten worn out). By the end of the second track, Tinashe has already established herself as a unique voice, unafraid to try things unheard of in older R&B.

That second track, “Bet,” firmly establishes the album’s foundation. The song, distinctly R&B, is also a collaboration with Blood Orange and ends with a very lengthy, ambient guitar solo. It’s the album’s second-longest track, and it takes its sweet time. The song announces for the album that Tinashe is in total control, flowing through different styles and dominating every track. Her vocals are strong and engaging, traditionally sultry in an untraditional format. “Bated Breath” is the album’s best vocal song (and the actual longest track), a seductive ballad in the album’s final act with Tinashe’s voice soaring over the music, and one that stops on a dime halfway through and re-crescendos with an engrossing coda. Compare this with the straight hip-hop of “2 On,” and you get a well-rounded singer. Her lyrics, too, are often smart and occasionally conceptual and subversive. The most notable track is “Pretend,” about trying your hardest to ignore problems in a relationship, even for a minute. A$ap Rocky drops in for a verse, as her deadbeat boyfriend. A$ap Rocky, Future and Schoolboy Q all contribute excellent verses on the album, and are all shown up by Tinashe.

Musically, Tinashe takes as many liberties as she does vocally. The album is mostly slow-moving, melodic and low-key R&B with club beats and ambient rhythms. But it is peppered with guitar, piano, and volume. Each track is it’s own entity, and they’re nearly all distinguishable from each other. “Pretend” excels on an unexpected, minimalistic beat that’s closer to a home recording than it is a radio cut. The album is also divided into pieces, split by five interludes and an outro. Most are little more than minute-long tracks serving to shake up the flow, although the interlude titled “Indigo Child” is itself a rather experimental and slightly haunting track, one that hits the album’s loudest volume.

The album’s only real fault is a slightly bloated running-time of 55:43. Its eighteen tracks do include the six interludes, so it is less daunting than it looks, but it does sag a bit in the midsection. It could do without a few tracks; it could stand to be a little tighter. Still, as it stands, “Aquarius” might be the year’s best debut, and is certainly one of the best hip-hop albums. In a world filled with young TV personalities trying to shed their former status and make it in music – namely Miley and Ariana Grande – Tinashe has quickly emerged as one of the stars (Tinashe, only 21, was known previously not for music but for roles in “The Polar Express” and “Two and a Half Men”). “Aquarius” is an instantly enjoyable and thorough album, one that doesn’t demand multiple listens, but slyly convinces them instead. Tinashe is in total control on her debut, and it’s relentless fun.

-By Andrew McNally