For their seventh album in 10 years, The Walkmen keep refining their strangely catchy brand of moody indie rock. *Heaven* is a bit slower than its predecessors, but Hamilton Leithauser’s wonderfully drawn-out and affected voice is there at the forefront, floating atop a choppy sea of strummed guitars and thick bass lines. Thanks to the renowned Seattle-based producer Phil Ek (his generation’s answer to Joe Boyd), the electric sparks of a great live show combine with the layered intricacies of a labored-over studio album. “Heaven” is a detuned jangle-romp that flirts briefly with being an anthem before going home and crawling into bed. “Line by Line” is an unabashed lullaby. “No One Ever Sleeps” is the soundtrack to a waking dream. And “Heartbreaker” is a suave little foray into the post-Velvets night. When Leithauser intones “We’ll never leave/The world is ours” on “We Can’t Be Beat,” you pray he’s even a little bit right.
Dark, crusty fuzz guitars dominate the music of Ty Segall, whose prolific output threatens to dilute the attention that should be paid to his committed allegiance to vintage rock \'n\' roll. Shades of psychedelia present themselves in the mercury-like lead guitar lines and translucent melodies that date themselves back to the mid-to-late 1960s. \"Love Fuzz\" takes on guitar work worthy of modern fuzzheads like the Bevis Frond and Dinosaur Jr. and matches it with a rhythm track copped from the Stooges and a mock-falsetto that exposes Segall\'s love for bubblegum 60s pop. \"Handglams\" throws in a descending guitar riff worthy of any garage-punk collection. Fans of MC5, The Pink Fairies, Blue Cheer, the grungier tones of Monster Magnet and the Stooges should find much to outright *love* with this swamp of sound. \"Gold On the Shore\" throws in an acoustic number with harmonies that are enhanced by a production that keeps things a beautiful blur.
It ain't two records, but it is called Twins. Ty's new mind-blow won't just make you see double, it'll make you be double! Fold in on yourself endlessly, hold your own hand, and leap towards the mega-Segall-meteor of 2012, Twins.
After two albums of harmony-heavy dream pop, Beach House continued its dazzling evolution with 2010‘s *Teen Dream*, which we named Best Alternative Album in iTunes Rewind. The ethereal, hypnotizing melodies are as gorgeous as ever on the duo’s forthcoming *Bloom*. From the jump, a sinewy guitar melody gets blanketed by blissful atmospheric mist on “Myth.” While *Teen Dream* introduced more complexity (which is echoed on the weightless, organic melodies floating from composition like “Troublemaker”), *Bloom*’s “On the Sea” proves that Beach House can also drop our jaws (and give us chills) with stripped-down, piano-driven journeys.
Bloom is the fourth full-length album by Baltimore-based Beach House. Like their previous releases (Beach House in 2006, Devotion in 2008, Teen Dream in 2010), it further develops their distinctive sound yet stands apart as a new piece of work. Bloom is meant to be experienced as an ALBUM, a singular, unified vision of the world. Though not stripped down, the many layers of Bloom are uncomplicated and meticulously constructed to ensure there is no waste. Bloom was recorded in 2011 at Sonic Ranch Studios in Tornillo, TX and mixed at Electric Lady in NYC. The band co-produced the record with Chris Coady.
Guided By Voices classic lineup to release Let's Go Eat The Factory, first album of new material in fifteen years. After a fifteen year hiatus, the "classic line up" of Guided By Voices (Robert Pollard, Tobin Sprout, Mitch Mitchell, Greg Demos, and Kevin Fennell) finishes off its year-long reunion tour by releasing an album of 21 new songs, deliberately choosing to return to what bandleader Robert Pollard calls the "semi-collegial" approach of iconic GBV albums like Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes. Let's Go Eat The Factory is much more than a mere return, however: sprawling, variegated, heavy, melodic, and yet still recognizably and coherently Guided By Voices in both its literal and mythic senses. "At first I said: no reunion, period," explains Pollard about the decision to revive Guided By Voices. "And definitely no record or re-formation. But the tour went so well; the response was really unexpected. I thought at some point that a lot of people would like to hear new GBV music. The chemistry was still there." Choosing to eschew the recording studio, LGETF was instead manufactured in the living rooms, basements, and garages of various long-time bandmembers. Some tracks were recorded more-or-less live at Mitch Mitchell's garage, where the band would often practice back in the early- and mid-90s. These sessions comprised Mitch, Bob, and Jimmy Pollard, Bob's brother and long-time collaborator, who, though never a part of the touring ensemble, always played a crucial role on the classic-era releases. Some tracks were improvised over acoustic jam sessions at Greg Demos' house. Many were recorded at Tobin Sprout's place in Wherever, Michigan, and later lovingly fucked with in order to achieve the proper level of weirdness. Band members occasionally switched instruments (Bob plays drums; Mitch plays drums; Kevin plays drums; Jimmy Pollard plays bass; Greg plays lead guitar; Toby plays pretty much everything; etc.), and Bob gladly accepted input from other band members. Tobin Sprout wrote or co-wrote and sings on six out of the 21 songs. The aesthetic is very much in keeping with Guided By Voices, but in some unexpected ways (more prevalent use of keyboards and samples, for one thing) the 21st century can't help but poke its nose into the resulting music. Devoted fans of Bee Thousand will not be disappointed in, for instance, the demonically tuneful "Chocolate Boy," or the relentless chug of "We Won't Apologize For The Human Race," which Tobin Sprout describes as "Peter Gabriel singing 'I Am The Walrus.'" Other standouts include "Doughnut For A Snowman," which Pollard calls "the goofiest, twinkliest song I've ever written," or "Spider Fighter," a Tobin Sprout number that was in fact the first song title conceived for the new album, and which features a piano coda that Pollard likens to "a Pete Townshend demo for Lifehouse."
A NOTE FROM MICHAEL GIRA “The Seer took 30 years to make. It’s the culmination of every previous Swans album as well as any other music I’ve ever made, been involved in or imagined. But it’s unfinished, like the songs themselves. It’s one frame in a reel. The frames blur, blend and will eventually fade. The songs began on an acoustic guitar, then were fleshed out with (invaluable) help from my friends, then were further tortured and seduced in rehearsals, live and in the studio, and now they await further cannibalism and force-feeding as we prepare to perform some of them live, at which point they’ll mutate further, endlessly, or perhaps be discarded for a while. Despite what you might have heard or presumed, my quest is to spread light and joy through the world. My friends in Swans are all stellar men. Without them I’m a kitten, an infant. Our goal is the same: ecstasy!" HOW THE SONGS CAME TO BE The songs The Seer, Ave. B Blues, Avatar, and The Apostate were developed organically as a group in rehearsals and on tour. They morphed constantly throughout the last series of Swans tours, and were captured and lovingly adorned in the studio. The remaining songs on the album were developed from the ground up in the studio with the participation and input of all the contributing musicians, guided by an invisible hand... Recorded at Studio P4 and Andere Baustelle in Berlin, by Kevin McMahon and at Marcata Studio, Gardiner, NY, by Kevin McMahon. Additional recording at Trout Recording, Brooklyn, NY, engineer: Bryce Goggin. Mixed by Kevin McMahon at Marcata. Produced by Michael Gira. FULL CREDITS SWANS Michael Gira voice, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, harmonica, casio, sounds Norman Westberg electric guitar, voice Christoph Hahn lap steel guitars; electric guitar, voice Phil Puleo drums, percussion, hammer dulcimer, voice Thor Harris drums, percussion, orchestral bells, hammer dulcimer, handmade violin thing, vibraphone, piano, clarinet, voice Christopher Pravdica bass guitar, voice, incredible handshake Honorary Swan: Bill Rieflin piano, organ, electric guitar, acoustic guitar, drums, percussion, casio, synthesizer, bass guitar, voice, bird idea SPECIAL GUESTS Karen O lead vocal on Song for a Warrior (Karen appears courtesy Interscope Records) Al and Mimi of Low co-vocals on Lunacy Jarboe backing vocals and voice collage on Piece of the Sky and backing vocals on The Seer Returns Seth Olinsky, Miles Seaton, Dana Janssen (Akron/Family) backing vocals on Piece of the Sky Caleb Mulkerin and Colleen Kinsella of Big Blood accordion, vocals, dulcimer, guitar, piano and assorted other instruments on the Seer Returns Sean Mackowiak (the grasshopper) acoustic and electric mandolins, clarinet, various songs Ben Frost fire sounds (acoustic and synthetic) on Piece of the Sky Iain Graham bagpipes on The Seer Bruce Lamont horns on The Seer Bob Rutman steel cello on The Seer Cassis Staudt accordion various songs Eszter Balint violin, various songs Jane Scarpatoni cello various songs Kevin McMahon additional drums on the Seer Returns, electric guitar, sounds on various songs Bryce Goggin piano on Song for a Warrior Stefan Rocke contra bassoon on the Seer Produced by Michael Gira. Recorded at Studio P4 and Andere Baustelle in Berlin, by Kevin McMahon, assistants Marco and Boris, and at Marcata Studio, Gardiner, NY, by Kevin McMahon. Additional recording at Trout Recording, Brooklyn, NY, engineer: Bryce Goggin, assistant: Adam Sachs. Mixed by Kevin McMahon at Marcata. Mastered by Doug Henderson at Micro-Moose Berlin. Pre-mastering by Jamal Ruhe at West Westside Music. Artwork: Paintings and Swans photo portraits by Simon Henwood.
Electronic pop auteur Flying Lotus (a.k.a. Steven Ellison) displays a new clarity of vision on Until the Quiet Comes as he reins in the scattershot tendencies of 2010’s Cosmogramma in favor of a more unified approach. The composer/producer still offers inspired pastiches of jazz, hip-hop and ambient sounds. But where his earlier work could be intentionally jarring, this album takes the listener on a smoothly-sequenced journey through inner landscapes. Ellison is aided by such notables as Erykah Badu (floating diva-like above the tribal groove of “See Thru to U”), Radiohead’s Thom Yorke (making his dark presence felt in “Electric Candyman”) and the Long Lost’s Laura Darlington (cooing her way through the eerie expanses of “Phantasm”). There’s plenty of sinewy pulsation amidst the billowing electronica, supplied by Stephen “Thundercat” Bruner’s insistent bass lines and Ellison’s jittery programmed beats. From the funkified growl of “The Nightcaller” to the robotic munchkin twitch of “Putty Boy Strut” and the sweet psyche-soul of “DMT Song,” Flying Lotus infuses the album with mystical vibes laced with subversive humor. Unearthly yet inviting, Until the Quiet Comes’ sonic spell is hard to resist.
*Falling Off the Sky* is the first dB\'s album to feature Peter Holsapple, Chris Stamey, Gene Holder, and Will Rigby in one place since the early-\'80s days of *Stands for deciBels* and *Repercussion*. The North Carolina–to–NYC band was a key influence on the emerging alt-rock scene (Holsapple eventually played with R.E.M.), and the two songwriters, Holsapple and Stamey, teamed up for two solid albums. Here, the group\'s longtime associates Scott Litt and Mitch Easter join the production team. But the years have made The dB\'s different people and, therefore, a different band. Drummer Will Rigby receives his first songwriting credit on a dB\'s album with the power-pop number \"Write Back.\" Stamey still writes dreamy ballads. \"Far Away and Long Ago,\" with cello, is one for the ages. \"Send Me Something Real\" balances his interests in \'60s psychedelia and \'70s new wave. Holsapple\'s \"She Won\'t Drive in the Rain Anymore\" features a writer capable of engrossing narratives within the context of a *five*-minute pop song.
His devotees noted Shakespeare\'s final play was named The Tempest, but 71-year-old Bob Dylan shot down speculation that it means this will be his final album. For the past decade, Dylan has sounded remarkably comfortable in the recording studio, releasing a string of albums that capture vintage blues, R&B and country string band music to complement his road-worn voice. \"I ain\'t dead yet, my bell still rings,\" he sings on the \"Mannish Boy\"-influenced \"Early Roman Kings\" and it sounds like a reassurance. Dylan susses meaning from phrases others throw away. This is dark, dusty music with secrets tucked inside its riddles. \"Duquesne Whistle,\" a collaboration with Robert Hunter, shuffles down the line. A hypnotizing riff works over \"Narrow Way\" for seven-plus minutes as Dylan quotes the Mississippi Sheiks. On \"Pay In Blood,\" Dylan sounds like a man settling a score. \"Scarlet Town\" and \"Tin Angel\" extend the narratives, but it\'s the title track that squeezes 45 verses into 14 minutes for an epic that wanders from shipwreck to Leonardo DiCaprio without losing the thread.
Baroness audaciously moves far beyond the conventional confines of metal on its third album, *Yellow & Green*. This two-disc set (the latest in a series of color-themed releases from the Georgia quartet) incorporates an amazing array of hard and soft sonic textures as it freely shifts between delicate interludes and harrowingly heavy passages. “Twinkler” and “Cocainium” shimmer with Fleet Foxes–like vocal harmonies, while “Take My Bones Away” and “Board Up the House” flex the group\'s rock biceps with brutal riffage and slamming drumwork. Baroness knows how to delve into prog-rock complexity (“Psalms Alive”), ride currents of overdrive guitar (“Sea Lungs”), and settle into the misty shoals of melancholy folk (“If I Forget Thee, Lowcountry”). What binds these sprawling tracks together is the lyrics\' pervasively ominous mood, hinting at psychic crises and societal chaos with imagery recalling Pink Floyd at its most alienated. Songs like “Eula,” “Collapse,\" and “The Line Between” lace their darkly surreal visions with undercurrents of irony and spiritual longing.
Baroness' Yellow & Green finds a band that has developed into more than just giants of the metal underground, they are now fully formed hard rock titans. Fans of the band have come to expect nothing less than constant evolution from Baroness and that is precisely what the band has delivered, but in ways noone could have anticipated: the hooks are immediately seared into your brain, riffs that take just one listen to fully lodge themselves in your consciousness and vocals that are sung both heavily and beautifully. Some songs are more delicate than Baroness ever hinted to before while others are straight up arena rockers—yet all along Yellow & Green is unmistakably the Baroness that the world has come to love and look to for Record Of The Year quality rock and roll. It’s not hard to imagine any one of the 18 songs that fill out the Yellow & Green 2CD/2LP being rock radio anthems, and deservedly so. At no risk of hyperbole Baroness’ ‘Yellow & Green’ is on a very short list as one of the new millennium’s best rock records.
Justin Townes Earle’s got the blues. A serious undercurrent of unhappy thoughts courses through *Nothing’s Gonna Change*, the fourth full-length from the talented Nashville musician. In the place of gospel or rockabilly seasoning, Earle goes to the sound of Memphis soul, with horns, unhurried arrangements, and a voice that often sounds like he’s just taken a gut hit. There are signs that perhaps his struggle to stay outside the hard-partying life has taken a backseat. Lyrics like “I tell her I’ve been getting sick again/we both pretend we don’t know why” suggest he’s not too happy with his current state. On the chillingly beautiful “Unfortunately, Anna,” his frustration and despair is palpable: “I’m feeling low and downright mean,” he breathlessly snarls as a steel guitar exhales in the background. The music ranges from the kind of quiet introspection fans of Nick Lowe will appreciate (“Am I That Lonely Tonight?,” “Won’t Be the Last Time”) to a pop-country blend that recalls Lyle Lovett (“Maria,” “Memphis in the Rain”) and a scattering of horn-inflected barroom shuffles (“Baby’s Got a Bad Idea,” “Look the Other Way”).
*Tramp* is a study in controlled power. Soft yet muscular, vulnerable yet tough, the music moves at a languid pace while also conveying urgency and unresolved tension. Sharon Van Etten’s striking voice is the album\'s central feature. Her vocals are commanding throughout, resonating when surrounded by ample space (“Give Out”, “In Line”), in the midst of precise arrangements using strings, keyboards, and artful drumming (“Leonard”, “We Are Fine”), or backed by a squall of electric guitar (“Serpents”). Van Etten closely doubles her vocals on many tracks; by hitting two closely related notes at once, this gives her voice a haunting, ethereal quality. Produced by Aaron Desner of The National, the album also benefits from contributions by drummer Matt Barrick (The Walkmen) and vocals by Zach Condon (Beirut) and Jenn Wasner (Wye Oak). *Tramp* is a triumph of understated beauty and grace.
The shimmering sound of Sharon Van Etten’s Jagjaguwar debut album, 'Tramp', both defies and illuminates the unsteadiness of a life in flux. Throughout the 14 months of scattered recording sessions, Van Etten was without a home -- crashing with friends and storing her possessions between varied locations. The only constant in Van Etten's life during this time was spent in Aaron Dessner's garage studio. Tramp contains as much striking rock (the precise venom of “Serpents,” the overwhelming power of “Ask”), as pious, minimal beauty (the earnest solemnity of “All I Can,” the breathtaking “Kevins,” “Joke or a Lie”); it can be as emotionally combative (“Give Out”) as it can sultry (“Magic Chords”). Contributions from Matt Barrick (Walkmen), Thomas Bartlett (Doveman), Zach Condon (Beirut), Jenn Wasner (Wye Oak), Julianna Barwick, and Dessner himself add a glowing sheen to the already substantial offering.
In the \'00s, Ariel Pink home-recorded a number of murky and intriguing cassettes. Cobbling together several influences but transcending the hollowness of pure retro imitation, Pink created wonderfully eccentric pop. With the 2010 release of his 4AD debut, *Before Today*, his distinct songwriting and arranging skills were professionally produced for the first time, and the results were impressive. (His band, Haunted Graffiti, is perfectly tuned into Pink’s aesthetic.) 2012’s *Mature Themes* is a fine follow-up. The Beverly Hills native has always had a zany side, and it\'s in evidence here. (Some passages evoke Frank Zappa, another musician with a wiseass sense of humor and a taste for pastiche.) The album opens strongly with “Kinski Assassin,” which features a delightful sense of wordplay and a hook that stays with you. A number of other songs are good, and *Mature Themes* closes strongly with a cover of Donnie & Joe Emerson’s “Baby.” The original could almost be a \'60s low-rider ballad, but it actually was recorded in the late \'70s in the Pacific Northwest. Pink’s version nicely echoes the dreaminess of the Emersons’ smooth jam.
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With leader Jason Pierce pushing his vocals closer to the front of the mix in recent years, *Sweet Heart Sweet Light* again finds Spiritualized coming close to accessible pop music in key spots. It provides clarity to a music that previously excelled as an oblique blur. \"Too Late\" cruises near convention, with a gentle folk melody that could pass for a Mojave 3 number. Elsewhere, there\'s still plenty of sonic detail; buzzing fuzz and psychedelic orchestration make \"Get What You Deserve\" a looping narcotic hit that ends in a torrent of feedback. \"Headin\' for the Top Now\" dives deeper into the distorted sonic soup that made Pierce\'s work with Spacemen 3 such a welcome enigma. Weirdest of all is the unexpected team-up with New Orleans\' gumbo-voodoo legend Dr. John for the co-written \"I Am What I Am,\" where both artists find a way to make their presence felt and reach a common ground, where gospel vamps marry Pierce\'s harshest sonic attacks.
Pierce is still using large orchestras and choirs to take his Robert Johnson blues way past the crossroads, to vistas that are as endless as they are empty. He's still singing his own rock'n'roll gospel: Jesus, fast cars, girls named Jane and Mary, pimps, death, fire, freedom, and God all show up, giving life to Pierce's alternate-universe Eden, inhabited by Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, self-loathing, and a spitty syringe. He's still his own genre-- this tiny voice elevated by the super-church-sized arrangements in his head. "I want to make music that catches all the glory and beauty and magnificence, but also the intimacy and fragility, all within the space of the same 10 seconds," Pierce has said. It's a mad goal. But it's also an inherently intriguing and universal one, just as ancient myths or Biblical tales can be. Pierce isn't religious, but he uses Christian language and figures as a thematic shorthand. "As you have a conversation about Jesus, you know you're talking to him about how it is to be fallible and question yourself and your morals," he told me. "When I sing, 'Help me, Jesus,' you know I'm not asking for help fixing the fucking car." Such an all-or-nothing attitude is risky, but that's the whole point. Pierce mixed Sweet Heart over eight drawn-out months under something of a drug-induced stupor. But it wasn't the kind of drug-induced stupor Pierce is known for. At the time, he was being hit with experimental chemotherapy treatments to combat a degenerative liver disease. (Three doctors are thanked in the liner notes; Pierce is apparently OK now.) During this album's creation, the singer referred to it as Huh?-- a nod to his jumbled mental state. All of which would make one assume that Sweet Heart would be messy, fucked-up, and completely depressing. That is not the case. This is probably the most uplifting album of his career.- Ryan Dombal Pitchfork.com 8.8/10
With disparate contributions from its four members, Grizzly Bear’s sound has long been multifaceted and thoughtfully layered. Repeated listening is frequently rewarded with newly discovered textures and details. “Sleeping Ute” opens *Shields*, the group’s fourth studio album, and is almost like a three-movement piece; alt-country–tinged guitar and bass introduce the song before a swirl of keyboards, buzzy guitars, and thunderous drumming transpires. A vocal and Spanish-style acoustic guitar outro make for an unresolved conclusion. *Shields*\' most straight-ahead modern rock number, “Yet Again,” is in the melodically accessible vein of “Two Weeks” from Grizzly Bear’s previous release, *Veckatimest*. A showcase for multi-instrumentalist Christopher Bear’s tuned percussion and lyrical drumming, “A Simple Answer” is bathed in emotive longing. There’s an addictive new wave pop sound to the nuanced “gun-shy,” while “Sun in Your Eyes” starts and ends as a piano ballad, transforming into a chamber rock *pièce de résistance* in between.
With the rollicking, retro-tinged rock ’n’ roll of their debut, Alabama Shakes injected a righteous dose of guitar-driven jams into the musical landscape of the ’10s. Led by Brittany Howard’s gritty howl—her turn on the soulful stunner “I Ain’t the Same” is a punch straight to the gut—*Boys & Girls* shows the power of keeping things simple. The head-nodding groove of “Hold On” delivers a summery, hypnotizing haze, while the slinky guitar and bright piano bounce of “Hang Loose” inspire deep chill vibes.
If America named a singer/songwriter laureate, it would surely be Bruce Springsteen. Like his heroes Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger, the iconic rocker chronicles the grand struggles and small triumphs of everyday people. Though *Wrecking Ball* was written and recorded before the start of 2011\'s Occupy protests, it reflects the same frustration and even anger at the heart of that movement. Sampled loops and electronic percussion pepper the album, the Boss’ first studio effort since 2009\'s *Working on a Dream*.
Harmonicraft is Torche in their most unfiltered form and the result is a collection of songs that prove that heavy music can be progressive without being predictable. From the relentless groove of "Roaming" to the melodic grandeur of "Kicking" and sinister syncopation of "In Pieces," Harmonicraft stretches toward the sonic stratosphere and illustrates that the band are growing tighter and more powerful with each passing release.
This is the reunited Guided By Voices' third album of 2012, in case you had lost count. Many bands struggle to release three albums in their career, never mind three in one year. It would be one thing if these were tossed off lo-fi affairs of the sort one might expect from the fellows who made the defining records of that so-called genre, Bee Thousand (1994) and Alien Lanes (1995). While the debut from the reunited "classic" line-up, Let's Go Eat The Factory, contained its share of basement gems, both that record and its follow-up Class Clown Spots A UFO are notable more for the preponderance of properly recorded rock: a testament to the years bandleader Robert Pollard has spent refining both his songwriting and his approach to recording. The Bears For Lunch is not a great deal different in that regard, but right off, from the opening track "King Arthur the Red," with its full-throated riffery, slam-tastic drums, and even some show-offy lead guitar shredding, it's evident that GBV Mach 2 may just now be hitting its stride. The progression is not dissimilar to the one the band made from Alien Lanes to its 1996 high-water mark Under The Bushes, Under The Stars, both in terms of longer, more fleshed-out songs and let's call it a semi-pro approach to recording fidelity. For all the well-deserved acclaim GBV's first two records this year have garnered, Bears is a step up in every sense. This isn't to say there's a whole lotta gloss going on, and certainly the album has its share of more casually considered songs, but from the relentless drum figure that fuels sure-fire-live-staple and obvious single "Hangover Child" ("the best thing [drummer] Kevin [Fennell]'s ever played" sez Pollard) to the chugging, melancholic, melody-mad "White Flag" ("I think you know this time it's real," Bob sings over an almost New Order-ish bass line) to the propulsive, early-R.E.M.-inflected album closer "Everywhere Is Miles From Everywhere," the 19-song 43-ish minutes long Bears delivers a gut-punch as sure and assured as anything the band's ever dished out. And that's without mentioning the stellar contributions of Tobin Sprout ("The Corners Are Glowing" and "Waving At Airplanes" are particular standouts), bouts of unrestrained whimsy like "The Military School Dance Dismissal," featuring what sounds like seven Robert Pollards singing in unison/harmony over a Beatle-esque piano line, the punning workplay of "She Lives In An Airport," or the staggering work of heart-breaking genius "You Can Fly Anything Right." Add to this Pollard's two excellent 2012 solo albums, a raft of festival appearances and some club touring, and you have possibly the most consistently productive output ever in one year from a band and a songwriter already noted for its/his insanely prolific nature. That said, in a year of highlights, The Bears For Lunch may well take the most cake.
GBV spins raw silk from the very same thread, yet again, on its probably-17th studio album. But didn’t these bedroom/garage-recording cult favorites/geniuses already exhibit a deft return to form with early 2012\'s *Let\'s Go Eat the Factory*? How is it possible that there’s already another new album with more than 20 obscurely titled songs from the Dayton, Ohio–based indie rock act, just six months later? How many times can Bob Pollard mine the same collage of Swell Maps and The Who, throwing obscure, early R.E.M.-ish lyrics atop stunted anthems that instantly make listeners want to hear the same song over and over? Granted, GBV and Pollard himself have made a few missteps here and there, but there’s hardly one on this album, which just might be the aesthetic equal of 1995\'s *Alien Lanes*. The album—recorded with the classic mid-‘90s lineup—is named for a song first released on 2009’s *Suitcase 3* collection. Originally one of the group’s biggest downers, it returns here as a jaunty, McCartney/ELO-style hand-clapper.
The new Guided By Voices album is the best thing the band has recorded since the last album by the legendary Dayton, Ohio rockers. That's not meant facetiously: the last thing Guided By Voices recorded was the rapturously received Let's Go Eat The Factory, and Class Clown Spots A UFO ups the ante raised by that stellar effort, both in terms of recording fidelity (boring!) and songcraft (not boring!) One could argue there's more depth and variety here than on Alien Lanes, that there are better songs here than on Bee Thousand, but that's an argument no one's ever going to win, at least definitively. And this album is a win, by any (definitive) definition. Class Clown is classic GBV, starting with the head-body-head combination of "He Rises (Our Union Bellboy)," "Blue Babbleship Bay," and "Forever Until It Breaks" before finishing you off with the title track, a ridiculously catchy, melodically-complex, shot-through-with-melancholia song that serves as a kind of sadder and wiser riposte to XTC's "Making Plans For Nigel" as performed by the Hollies. If that makes any sense at all (it will when you hear it, hopefully). And that's just the first four songs of a 21-track album clocking in at just under 40 minutes. We've yet to get to "Keep It In Motion," a propulsive, drum-machine driven pop song which features, unusually, acoustic guitars, strings, and Bob/Toby singing together in a way not heard since "14 Cheerleader Coldfront" on 1992's Propeller. Possibly. (The song was one of a few that Bob recorded and sent to Toby at his home studio in Michigan for over-dubbing.) Nor have we discussed galvanic rocker "Jon the Croc," a clear single candidate, or "Chain To The Moon," one of the saddest and (why not?) prettiest songs Pollard has ever written.
In between you get wah-wah guitar solos, a wide range of unusual recording techniques of varying fidelity (but, as referenced above, much less of the murk lurking on Let's Go Eat The Factory), and a generous helping of Alien Lanes-style snippets. In fact, the sequencing of Class Clown seems to hearken back to that landmark LP - as on AL, songs bleed into each other, fadeouts segue into fadeins, short bursts of melodic rock ("Billy Wire," "Roll of the Dice, Kick in the Head") jut against somber chamber pop ("They and Them," "Starfire"). The last song, the anthemic "No Transmission," if played at the proper volume, will in fact blow your mind (and your windows). 'Class Clown Spots A UFO' is available now. A side benefit of Pollard's for-now decision to call it quits on touring is that you get more Guided By Voices albums. It's really hard to see how that's not a great thing for everyone. Because it is a great thing for everyone. Obviously.
A reissue of the 2012 debut release by the Ty Segall Band on In The Red, featuring a bonus song not on the original release! The Ty Segall Band is Ty Segall (obviously), Mikal Cronin, Charlie Moonheart and Emily Rose Epstein. While Segall has released many incredible solo releases, Slaughterhouse marks the first time he recorded with his touring band. For this mini-album (originally released as a double 10-inch, but now expanded to a double 12-inch) the band recorded with Chris Woodhouse at the Hangar, turned their amps all the way up, set their fuzz pedals on “obliterate” and commenced to kick ass and take names. Seriously, this record will melt your face. All of Segall’s usual psych-pop sensibilities are present but Slaughterhouse adds the full-throttle, go-for-the-throat bombast that the band delivers in the live setting. The fuzz riffs, bratty howl and Cro-Magnon bashing culminate with a feedback freakout that’s clearly the only sensible way to end a workout of this magnitude in shit to announce the debut release by the Ty Segall Band.
