It's a catchy little singer-songwriter album, full of clear feelings and pretty touches. But boy is it twee, especially once you know that Lee was 17 at the time. Feel like I should be able to get past that. Can't.
There are some nice little narrative threads: the callbacks to The Pixies, to Lee's songwriting struggles, to "the girl". It's cute. But if you're going full singer-songwriter, I've got to feel like you're telling me your real story - or at least let me suspend disbelief. This put a skeptical look on my face by track 3, made me say "oh cmon" by track 12, and by the time I got to track 18 (eighteen!) I was just sticking around out of completionism 2.5/5
Saturday, November 14, 2015
#1960 Life Without Buildings - Any Other City
Sue Tompkins is a mess, yelping and wringing and flinging herself about // Sue Tompkins is in control, repeating lines again and again until she gets them right and drills them in. No punkass song's gonna tell her when she's done.
The band keeps time with clockwork efficiency, a pulse for Tompkins' to scrawl over, vulnerable and menacing and unstoppable, the most interesting girl you ever dated, too much for you to handle 3.5/5
The band keeps time with clockwork efficiency, a pulse for Tompkins' to scrawl over, vulnerable and menacing and unstoppable, the most interesting girl you ever dated, too much for you to handle 3.5/5
#1959 Born Ruffians - Ruff
This is a nice bounceback after the too-pop Birthmarks, bringing back some of that indie wonder and angst and hope - a little grit to offset the leftover sheen. It's hooky, pretty, and very very indie rock, adventurous, if only incrementally 3.5/5
#1958 Billy Bragg and Wilco - Mermaid Avenue
Billy and Wilco make songs out of unrecorded Woody Guthrie lyrics.
And that's the story of what you're going to get: some folksy sentiments, some Wilco indie-country-indie, and a lot of general mismatch and hodgepodgery. Wilco sounds shackled to the format, the lyrics' personal impact is undercut by the guest-writer/performer format, and the whole thing feels awkwardly reanimated. I've never found collaborations between greats to work, from the Travelling Wilburys to the New Basement Tapes - tight-knit vision makes for the best rock.
Exceptions for lyrics that are so damn good they just carry the project. Walt Whitman's Neice is endlessly, wryly witty, and Unwelcome Guest is quietly devastating. And well, Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key's just plain pretty as hell. But in between there's a whole lot that just feels unnecessary 3/5
And that's the story of what you're going to get: some folksy sentiments, some Wilco indie-country-indie, and a lot of general mismatch and hodgepodgery. Wilco sounds shackled to the format, the lyrics' personal impact is undercut by the guest-writer/performer format, and the whole thing feels awkwardly reanimated. I've never found collaborations between greats to work, from the Travelling Wilburys to the New Basement Tapes - tight-knit vision makes for the best rock.
Exceptions for lyrics that are so damn good they just carry the project. Walt Whitman's Neice is endlessly, wryly witty, and Unwelcome Guest is quietly devastating. And well, Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key's just plain pretty as hell. But in between there's a whole lot that just feels unnecessary 3/5
#1957 Blitzen Trapper - VII
There were hints of this sound in Black River Killer, and now its everywhere, licks of soul, funk, and big boombaps alongside wobbling trumpets, slide guitars, and wailing harmonicas. There's no avoiding comparisons to Odelay, what with those hiphop beats, country flourishes, psychedelic imagery and crackling experimentalism. In fact, these guys have a lot in common with Beck: those swings between downhome simplicity and bigcity shitstorms.
But what made Odelay so great was the way it kept you guessing, right to the end. VII just happens to run out of steam right at track 7, settling down to a lazy simmer over those last 5 tracks. I like where the band's pointed, and the first half throws some sparks, but this feels like an understuffed course correction after American Goldwing's too-simple sound 3.5/5
But what made Odelay so great was the way it kept you guessing, right to the end. VII just happens to run out of steam right at track 7, settling down to a lazy simmer over those last 5 tracks. I like where the band's pointed, and the first half throws some sparks, but this feels like an understuffed course correction after American Goldwing's too-simple sound 3.5/5
Friday, November 13, 2015
#1956 The Ozark Mountain Daredevils - It'll Shine When it Shines
I do love it when I can feel an album's creation shining through - Ty-loose or Kid-A-tight, I just wanna feel it. There's an effortless energy to these guys that I dig. It's country shuffle and stomp, with a rock and roll backbeat backbone - all pretty, driving forward at a pace that's --just-- fast enough to put the wind in your hair, but not fast enough to muss it up. This is some ur-Blitzen-Trapper bullshit.
Every song sounds easy to make, easy to listen to, but it's never cloying, never boring, never full of itself, it just flows out like a river. I could listen to this all day, on porches, with cards skipping on felt, with a whiskey and a couch and a night gone by 4.5/5
Every song sounds easy to make, easy to listen to, but it's never cloying, never boring, never full of itself, it just flows out like a river. I could listen to this all day, on porches, with cards skipping on felt, with a whiskey and a couch and a night gone by 4.5/5
#1955 Born Ruffians - Birthmarks
This is polished as hell, especially given how ramshackle they used to be.
Maybe it's the agreeable fake-rough vocals and approachable melodies, but there's something in this that smells designed for girls, in a tacky, capitalistic kind of way. Nicking little bits from Phoenix, Mumford, Hot Hot Heat, and a thousand other indie touchstones reinforces that overslick impression.
Which makes Rage Flows frustrating as hell: it's a /killer/ track, setting up expectations and knocking them apart again and again, ratcheting up tension perfectly across verses until the blasted, clipped production is tuned right over the top into a terrifying, thrilling speakershredding climax. I want to hear the album that *that* band made 3/5
Maybe it's the agreeable fake-rough vocals and approachable melodies, but there's something in this that smells designed for girls, in a tacky, capitalistic kind of way. Nicking little bits from Phoenix, Mumford, Hot Hot Heat, and a thousand other indie touchstones reinforces that overslick impression.
Which makes Rage Flows frustrating as hell: it's a /killer/ track, setting up expectations and knocking them apart again and again, ratcheting up tension perfectly across verses until the blasted, clipped production is tuned right over the top into a terrifying, thrilling speakershredding climax. I want to hear the album that *that* band made 3/5
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