RFT Reviews

AFI & Sick of It All @ Newport Music Hall

2007-02-10T08:01:00.000-08:00

OK, so I'm not going to give a total rundown of this show. But I'm going to address a couple things.

First off, I went to this show because I was able to get in free. I think tickets were around $20 and sold out weeks in advance so... I've followed AFI for awhile and I was interested to see them, even after the little transemographication they've gone through. I wish I could say that I totally used to be into hardcore, but alas, I never was.

A friend of mine used to really be into Sick of It All but I had a hard time getting into it.

In fact, I'll be totally honest and the most appealing prospect about this concert going into it was the likelihood that some mall-goth would get beat up by a hardcore kid with gauges and a baseball cap.

In the minutes leading up to the AFI-mania, during Sick of it All's set (which was bordering on electrifying) I saw lots of green glowsticks flying around. Something about this seemed poignant considering the circumstances.

The highlight of the evening was when a group of what looked like four 99.7 DJ's tried to barrel down to the dancefloor, only to be stopped by a human blockade: shoulder to shoulder goth chicks, guys with eyeliner, college students. Somewhere in their brain functions (I'm guessing Natty Light was the main catalyst for the chemical process) they decided to try to push their way through a crowd of 20 odd people and instead almost knocked most of them over.

Someone took offense and confronted the College Night Cornhole cadre. Words were had. Beers flew. A brawl seriously seemed ready to break out (probably the last thing I wanted to see was a full-fledged melee, despite my general interest in the situation.)

One of them, a short stocky man wearing a backwards white baseball cap and a black hoody with the word BOSTON emblazoned on the back threw an open-handed slap on a clean cut college kid. I'm not really sure what happened next or what, but eventually one of the group of jerkholes through a sucker punch on a guy literally a foot and a half taller and scurried away.

Things actually simmered because the disturbance was gone, but in the group's wake was a general din of "did you see that guy? what dick" and such... it was like an electric circuit, how quickly word of the fight travelled around me. Obviously it was a major point of interest.

Oh, and AFI's set was OK.

Midlake - Trials of Van Occupanther

2006-08-07T10:35:00.000-07:00

My Young Bride / Why Are Your Shoulders Like That Of A Tired Old Woman?

That’s the million-dollar question Midlake poses on the predictably titled “Old Woman”, the single from their most recent album. The song is rife with imagery of a coldly familiar landscape, juxtaposed with a warm and dry bass, the timbre of which reminds me of the good times I had with a specific setting on my friend’s circa 1975 electric organ. The bossa nova switch inexplicably created a crisp disco bass beat that I could jam to. I am forced to assume that the 70’s were a musically confusing time.

But I digress. Immediately obvious on Trials of the Van Occupanther is an earnestly Carter-era affection by means of a muted drum kit, acoustic guitar, piano, and some of the most understatedly complex harmonies this side of America. Thankfully we are spared the cheesy strings and songs about unicorns, but this homage to the music lampooned in Yacht Rock is completely without irony. Tim Smith’s rich lead vocals are tonally akin to middle instruments trombone, viola, bassoon, all of which are featured throughout the album.

Midlake’s comparisons range from the Doobie Brothers and Fleetwod Mac to Spoon, Radiohead, and the Flaming Lips, and it’s all fair game. What does this cross sampling of influences mean for music listeners? It means that Trials of the Van Occupanther is one of the more accessible albums I have heard recently, and it does so while maintain a distinctiveness that will turn heads.

This album suffers from its strengths in some ways. It has a very autumn-y feeling, but can a bit drably inoffensive, and the lack of serious guitar hooks will turn a few people off. The only other serious criticism I have is that the album is front heavy, but that’s only after a fair bit of straw grasping. But no worries. While flawed, TOVO combines everything I look for in an album: subtle musical and emotional complexity, accessibility and a unique aesthetic.

Danielson at Beachland Ballroom 7/27

2006-07-28T10:35:00.000-07:00

Well, there are certain artists that I alternate between

a.appreciating their originality and creative contribution to society as a whole and

b.getting the living crap annoyed out of (how's that for an awkward use of the passive voice)

They Might Be Giants, Stereolab, Brian Eno, punk rock, The Aquabats, etc. No one hits the extremes for me as much as Danielson though.

My mental process goes something like "how did he develop his vocal style? that's real-- [screech] please just stop singing! i had inner ear surgery as a child, have mer...oh, interesting chord progression"... it's really quite difficult to ascertain whether I hate, or love him. And that's sort of a disconcerting feeling for anyone to have, but particularly so for someone as opinionated as I am.

And I've been trying to figure this out ever since I became aware of Sufjan Stevens circa Michigan and talked to my friends about him. They had previously only known him through affiliation with the Br. Danielson AKA Daniel Smith. It's been a weary road.

This has been exacerbated by the fact that media darlings Pitchfork suddenly changed their pan-Danielson policy from sardonic jabs at his faith mixed with sardonic jabs at his unique voice to if you love him so much, why don't you just marry him? Suddenly he's elevated from reviled cult-star to hipster icon complete with a showcase at the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago? What gives?

I do kind of like that one song "Did I Step on your Trumpet?" though. A little more focused from a song-writing standpoint. I put it on my current mixtape for my car (in lieu of my broken iPod) and I've been enjoying it pretty well.

So when my liscence-less friend asked for a ride to Cleveland to go see him, I obliged. And also in order to satisfy my curiosity, I finally decided to see what this guy looked like. I braved flash flood warnings and four mysteriously wrecked cars on the side of I-71 to find out. And he looks like a cross between Lance Armstrong and Charlie Brown.

Well, Danielson and the Famile, replete with police uniforms and striped slacks (with the exception the dour and creepy Sister Megan) were in all their glory at the Beachland Ballroom. Danielson transformed from a mild-mannered, wine buying short polo-shirted guy that was ignored at the bar to a guitared ring-wraith and center of attention to a diverse crowd of hipsters.

They played mostly stuff off their new record, Ships, and a few things out of the catalogue. And you know what, I enjoyed the spectacle and may be able to listen to some of the recorded music with a refreshed perspective. Live music can have that healing effect.

The Walkmen - A Hundred Miles Off

2006-07-28T09:31:00.000-07:00

The Walkmen are an indie contradiction; they are simultaneously everywhere and nowhere. Their music has been getting rave reviews with all the right people, but they are only now catching the eye of the thriving sect of underage indie kids, thanks to a late ‘05 appearance on The OC. Despite their relative anonymity, The Walkmen have that obscure joie de vivre that makes them RELEVANT.

A Hundred Miles Off is the sort of record a band releases when they are trying to shake preconceived notions about their music, but they don’t know exactly how to go about it. One way to do so is Dylan-worship. Although lead singer Hamilton Leithauser merely hinted at it on previous records, he is now a card-carrying member of the Dylan-worshipping church. His raspy, mumbling vocals on the opening cut “Louisiana” hit you in the face like a rolling stone. Perhaps sensing discomfort, the track lets the listener down easy, closing with a calypso horn and piano riff. Breezy.

“Danny’s At The Wedding” is a spacey bit of aloofness that shows when A Hundred Miles Off is at its best; it lets the rhythm wander aimlessly before presenting the melody. The more upbeat songs, while at first listen are interesting, don’t suck you in. And, The Walkmen certainly try many interesting things to reel us in. For example, “Tenley Town” is a track that allows the band to show their origins with a raw D.C. sound, complete with drum breakdowns and screaming. However, when grouped with the Maragritaville-esque conclusion to the first track, this album just seems plain jumbled.

For most new listeners, The Walkmen is a band that drips with grimy charisma that even The Strokes would kill for. However, while not a hundred miles off its mark, A Hundred Miles Off is a bit of a disappointment for the rest of us. While the record is chock-full of energy and channels a more deliberately aggressive sound, it only hints at what the ‘Men can do. Here’s to hoping their next record has a little more spit-on-mom’s-finger-polish.

PS: This review has been reposted after much trepidation. Ask me about it (the trepidation, I mean).

Casey Dienel - Wind-Up Canary

2006-05-22T16:01:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of famous musical artists (eg, Britney Spears) who aren’t half as talented as the millions of unrecognized, brilliant musicians out there. So, in a completely fair world, a lot of these much-publicized people should be singing Karaoke at their family members’ weddings instead of selling out arenas. Anyone who thinks only talented people become famous should see Keanu Reeves try his hand at Shakespeare.

Bearing all this in mind, the 20-year old Casey Dienel recorded “Wind-Up Canary” while she was a student at the famed New England Conservatory. While most alumni of NEC transition into performing Mozart and Brahms at places like Carnegie Hall, Casey has chosen to try her hand playing jazz-laced rock music at places like The Applesauce Treehouse and the Gone Wired Café.

“Wind-Up Canary” is Deinel’s first attempt at recording, crafted with friends in an abandoned farmhouse on the outskirts of her native Boston. One of Deinel’s friends decided to send the session to tiny-but-mighty Hush Records, and the rest is history. Deinel is currently voyaging across the country, positive press sparkling in her wake.

Equal parts Cole Porter, legendary French cabaret chanteuse Edith Pilaf and The Talking Heads, Deinel’s music supports the idea of the American melting pot we all keep hearing about. Dienel is clearly at home tickling her piano keys. “When I was only four I found my lonely ivories / and we became fast friends,” she sings on “Everything”. She’s made the piano her own personal music box, cranking out whimsical melodies with subtly syncopated rhythms for emphasis. Her equally impressive and flighty vocals waft around the musical register like sheet music being blown about by a drafty open window.

The record revels in its intimacy, revealing its amateur tendencies via the slightly out-of-tune piano, generally low-fidelity vocals and a drum kit that sounds like it’s about to fall apart. “I want my record to sound like you’re sitting in a living room with all of your friends and the fire is crackling,” Dienel said in an interview with Northeast Performer Magazine. This is far from the sterile laboratory-like environments that most pop music is recorded in, and the result is something that’s very candid. It’s easy to imagine Deinel playing in a creaky old house to an audience of oddball music students and field mice.

As a fellow 20-year old, it’s exciting to see someone so close to my age producing something that’s so pointedly original. Especially as something that originated as “drunken dare”, “Wind-Up Canary” smacks of greatness. If Dienel can transfer her small-setting act to the big stage, and tighten up her tendency to sing about nonsense, she is a just a record deal away from being the next Norah Jones. That is, if she wants to share so-called “fame” with the Britney Spearses of the world. She has good reason to be quite confident either way.

Miranda Sound - Western Reserve

2006-04-27T09:07:00.000-07:00

Certain types of images are conjured when one tries to picture local music.

At the very bottom rung of this figurative ladder is the quintessential local band: a bunch of shaggy late-teens to twenty-somethings playing in a dive-bar, possibly new to their instruments, possibly intoxicated. This band makes noise that is cringe-inspiring to young children and the elderly alike. They will play songs about their dead-end jobs, which eventually become their dead-end careers when the band tanks (just when they were totally about to make it).

While this stereotype originates in truth, as most stereotypes do, bands like Miranda Sound are fighting the good fight for quality music local to our fair metropolis. Western Reserve, released on Columbus label Sunken Treasure Records, is Miranda Sound’s third full-length album.

The members of Miranda Sound list among their major influences Jawbox (the legendary J. Robbins was a member) and The Dismemberment Plan (whom Robbins worked with as a producer). As fate would have it, Miranda Sound was able to enlist Robbins’ highly coveted services as a producer, engineer and guest musician on Western Reserve. According to Robert Duffy, owner of Sunken Treasure Records, Robbins agreed to work with them after hearing Engaged in Labor, Miranda Sound’s second LP.

Western Reserve thoroughly blends the band’s varied influences. From the energetic guitar driven power-pop of tracks “Jackson Milton” and “We’re Making Amends” to the offbeat, mathematical “Control” and the ethereal “Take it Where You Can Get It”, the album covers a lot of musical ground. However, it is paced and ordered so well (typical of Robbins’ projects) that the transition turns like the minute hand of a clock – so gradual that it’s barely noticeable. Robbins’ clean and able production highlights the precise rhythm of the band, fitly complementing the confidently written melodies.

The lyrics condense the struggles and insecurities experienced over a lifetime, and a Midwestern chip on the shoulder is visible at all times. This is particularly true in “The Lull of Youngstown”, which deals with making a “grand escape” from a dull and lifeless town after graduating from high school. I think anyone who grew up in Ohio can relate with that.

There are very few misses on this album, but the calculator metaphor on “Calculator for Words” is pretty lame (“multiplying adjectives and nouns you get verbs/when you finally press the equals sign”). The lyrical content as a whole is very straightforward, and it struggles a little when it strays from that.

With several songs that seem to be ready for heavy play on alternative and even mainstream radio, Western Reserve is a great achievement for the band, especially in light of the adversity they’ve had to overcome (accidents, roster changes, etc). Miranda Sound has made good use of the pressure, as Western Reserve is a polished gem of an album.

The Cinematic Underground - 4/11/06 at Neo

2006-04-12T13:12:00.000-07:00

So I went out on a Tuesday night. I accompanied a friend to a friendly local art gallery which for one night only was home to one of the densest collection of hipsters I have ever seen -- I was absent when Clap Your Hands Say Yeah rolled into town. For the second time in the past six months, New England's The Cinematic Underground brought their veggie-powered bus to our fair city.

The smell of whitewash stung my nostrils as I noticed the white splotches on the wood grain floor. New painting. As a spectator, I was part of the display and I was art. Bunnies hung from the ceiling as a part of some sort of bunny-themed mobile (think the kind of thing that hangs over a toddler's crib -- now think of it with bunnies). There was definitely some sort of bunny exhibition going on. I love bunnies.

As I have mentioned, the irony levels in this place had reached critical mass. I saw all the tattoos, ironic Backstreet Boys shirts, tight pants, etc, that I would have expected to see at something like this if I'd had a better idea of what was going on.

The interesting thing is, though, that I had little to no expectations upon my arrival. My friend had only told me "oh, we're just going to go see some friends of mine play". I was expecting to see Shaq and the Brain Farts doing a ska cover of David Bowie or something along those lines.

A member of the CU handed me what was very much a playbill a few minutes prior to the show starting (I had missed the performance troupe Mew's opening act since I had fruitlessly ventured off in the night for something to eat. As you can see to your left, the performance had three 'scenes' and twelve total 'acts'. Especially as someone whose expectations were such a non-entity as mine were, this was something I hadn't even anticipated anticipating. Apparently, I had come to see a performance entitled Annasthesia. (for those keeping score at home, this is the title of their debut album).

Inventory of the special instruments which accompanied the normal E-Bow-toting lead guitar, bass, keys, and drums: telephone receiver, bicycle-wheel vests, trash can, goblets of water, a suitcase, an ascot, theatre lights, digital projector, and a Powerbook. Unfortunately I did not have my camera to illustrate, but these items were used in conjunction with music, dance, theatrics and lighting to create a visually stimulating experience in an intimate and bunny-filled setting. Think of the Decemeberists' as indie-rock performance Lite while The Cinematic Underground constitutes 16 oz. soy-steak.

"Writer/director" (or lead singer, for you Philistines) Nathan Johnson particularly had tons of charisma and really did a great job as presenting himself as the face of the project without distracting from artistic concept Annasthesia was striving for. His gyrating performance reminded me of the master entertainer Beck Hansen. I will abstain from making references to GWAR, but the whole package was comparable to a more avant-garde and ambient translation of the Flaming Lips. The show managed to be generally enjoyable and relatively unpretentious, probably because of the evident genuine emotion that went into it. The crowd was definitely drawn in to the experience.

I have to say I was disappointed by the recording of Annasthesia I procured. The live show had a total different mood, and it seems like the visual element could distract from any weakness the music would have, but the CU were very tight live and showed a lot of musical creativity intermixed with good old pop sensibility.

For how unique of an affair as their live show is, the CU will no doubt begin gathering some real grassroots attention. They seem to be touring in cabarets and galleries for now, but it's interesting to think of how their show would translate to theatres. If they can somehow better encapsulate the experience of their live show onto a sound recording and win over some national critics, The Cinematic Underground should have no problem selling out. Or achieving artistic nirvana atop their pile of money. Or at least getting a newer veggie-bus. Whatever.

Brief sidebar: playmaster Johnson also wrote the soundtrack for the feature film The Brick.

The Kyle Sowashes - What's Important (and What's Not) Review

2006-03-31T08:38:00.000-08:00

Remember my Fine Dining Review? If you want, you can read that right now by clicking on 'Fine Dining Review". Did you read it? Great.

Kyle Sowash, aka Tom Foolery of Tom Foolery and the Mistakes, has ditched the pseudonym and is going out on his own in this big, scary world. It's ok though, because he's bringing some stalwart musical influences to keep him company: Pavement, Guided by Voices, Yo La Tengo, Superchunk, etc. Expect all the 'woo-woos', little guitar hooks, some not-really harmonies, catchy melodies, analog tape, 'quirky' humor, et cetera, that comes with the territory.

Let it be known: this record is a testament to what happens to college-rock musicians that hold on too long. Fine Dining, take note. Sowash has written “Being an Underemployed, Underappreciated Musician for Dummies”.

But c'est la vie, these gripes come with the territory. What's Important and What's Not is a no-holds-barred, barbed-wire old indie-rock nostalgia cagematch, and Kyle Sowash unashamedly has the chair.

The lyrics are built on a foundation of self-effacement and dry humor. In "Shadow of my Stephens" Sowash promises that "if I could put into a song the way I feel about you, (baby, yo) that would be so awesome" but "I just can't write the hits". In "In the Mail", a member of the Kyle Sowash's fan club wins "the remnants of [his] life's destruction" on Ebay.

Sure, writing songs about being an unknown loser drinking beers in parking lots isn't really glamorous, but it rings true. Between taking swipes at himself, Sowash targets white-belted hipster music critics, the scene, and life in general. More than once he comes across as being more than a little bitter, but he presents his empty plate with a smile.

The ‘he hate me’ aesthetic is artfully presented. This record, 28 minutes of enjoyable pop songs, is itself a tribute to enjoyable little pop songs of yesteryear. I can't imagine Kyle Sowash was trying to write the album of the year, nor would he think himself capable of doing so.

From upon his pedestal of obscurity, Kyle Sowash is directing his nihilistic/nostalgic message to the American people, whether they care or not.

The Kyle Sowashes - In the Mail.mp3
The Kyle Sowashes - Pitchforks.mp3

Maritime - We the Vehicles Review

2006-03-28T13:45:00.000-08:00

First Impression:
Final Rating:

At the risk of exposing myself as a fanboy, I must say that I was immensely disappointed with Maritime’s first full-length release, Glass Floor. The prospect of a marriage of The Promise Ring’s melody-machine Davey von Bohlen and drummer Dan Dider with Dismemberment Plan mad-bassist Eric Axelson was enough to make various indie nerds drool with anticipation. The result was unremarkable, and the tepid Glass Floor fizzled.

Enough, it seems, to warrant We the Vehicles being released in America a full six months after being made available in Japan and Europe. Maybe Flameshovel is hoping the Glass Floor backlash will be forgotten during this six months through smart publicity and buzz, and our international friends won’t be sophisticated enough to care. Supposedly it has something to do with difficulty finding a label stateside.

From the beginning of the record, it’s clear efforts have been made to amend the saccharine and hallow production of Glass Floor. Read, this mostly means von Bohlen’s wispy voice is carefully tucked behind instruments with electrical currents flowing through them, which is for the best. Stepping out of the acoustic-limelight, his voice takes its rightful place as a secondary instrument. This allows von Bohlen’s intelligent songwriting to shine, just as it did in [my fantasies] when this band was first conceived.

Axleson’s leash has been loosened and a spry 1980’s feel has been liberally applied to the bass n’ drums here -- complete with synths, a backbeat on “Parade of Punk Rock T-Shirts” and varied moving bass lines. It comes across as generally likeable and keeps things from bogging down without being classified as one of those “dance rock” records that we don’t talk about.

“Tearing Up the Oxygen” is a good example of all that. This great track is being groomed as the remedy for some of the remaining sour grapes. The combination of rhythmic precision and melodic talent drives this album, just as it should have in the first place.

That’s not to say this record is perfect. It didn’t blow me away. I kind of went back and forth on it (my initial reaction being an immense sense of relief, followed by a period of doubt and then recovery). Von Bohlen can’t sing, but that’s no secret and I feel unoriginal and a bit dirty for having mentioned it. Some of the melodies sound a lot like TPR’s swan songs with new sheep clothing, which is also to be expected.

However, the spit and polish applied to the pop deluge one can expect from von Bohlen is a welcome change of pace. Mr. Emergency is still chugging away, and We the Vehicles is a sign that the road is being righted.

“We are powerful despite our injuries,” declares “Calm”.

Past wrongs have been addressed and many patched up. I still love you, Davey.

Thank you for holding Davey accountable, Eric.

Keep the time, Dan. Keep the time.

The Appleseed Cast - Peregrine Review

2006-03-25T11:39:00.000-08:00

First Impression:
Final Rating:

The Appleseed Cast went off the deep end in 2001 released the two-volume experimental work Low Level Owl. Following a couple more digressions, including a folksy side project (Old Canes -- which I like), they’ve returned to the studio again. Peregrine is an appropriate title for their latest, considering all the musical meandering they’ve done.

From the onset, it’s clear what kind of beast this record is trying to be: a spectacularly overwrought one. Drum effects and triggering, lots of compression, synths, instrumental tracks – it’s all there. The liberal production is ambitious to the point of being masturbatory. The thing is, if you take away the clamor and clatter, the record doesn’t always have a lot of pop substance, while the more layered stuff doesn’t have the guns to compete with say, Mogwai or Sigur Ros. In fact, some of the aforementioned drum production is eye-roll worthy, particularly on “Woodland Hunter Part 2” and “Mountain Halo”. Whoever decided reversing the drum track is cool should contemplate taking a good look at the inside of a gas stove.

While a few tracks are effective, specifically “Here We Are”, and “Sunlit Ascending”, the dog-and-pony production diverts attention from the underlying atmospheric simplicity that made Owl so successful. Considering how heavily involved that production is on this album, it seems Appleseed Cast should consider having another identity crisis.

Neil Diamond - 12 Songs Review

2006-03-13T14:42:00.000-08:00

Whenever someone says the phrase "Sweet Caroline," the immediate gut reaction of almost every person present is to say "doo doo doo." Try it. In a crowded room, just shout out that famous first line: "Sweeeeeeet Caroliiine..." and enjoy the results. It really is a pleasure.

Some hear the classic “Sweet Caroline” and think, "Neil Diamond is a tired hack that doesn’t make real music. He just wears sequined shirts." Most assume he is perpetually destined to be of the set of aging musicians who only record new albums to have more material for their overly-theatrical stage shows (Paul McCartney’s recent “Chaos and Creation in the Backyard” is the only thing that saved him from being one of these types of musicians).

Though part of the above description does fit Neil Diamond (sequins were a big part of Neil Diamond's early career, and I can only assume they still might be), he is anything but one of these tired hacks.

Case in point: the newly released album called "12 Songs." It came out last year and, by my accounting, is nearly perfect. From the unassuming first track, "Oh Mary," to the huge crescendo of "Create Me," finishing off with the poppy, fun "We," this album shows Diamond in a light I had not seen him in before: talented and often introspective songwriter.

Sure, simple masterpieces like "Sweet Caroline" and "Solitary Man" have confirmed his status as a mastermind of the pop genre, but "12 Songs" finds Diamond in new territory somewhere closer to singer-songwriter. The production is so simple, so pure, that the songs are essentially forced to stand on their own. That is what lets some of the real gems of this album shine.

One of my personal favorites is the almost haunting beauty of "Face Me." The song is an impassioned cry for a lover to just look you in the eye and be honest. No fancy gestures, no frilly words, just "face me." The plea, like much of the rest of the album, is supported by simple guitar frameworks and a small backing band. Percussion is barely evident throughout most of these tracks, only another detail that makes the songs work as songs, not as full blown theatrical numbers.

As I mentioned earlier, Paul McCartney was also moving ever increasingly into “hack” territory over the years, but his entirely out-of-left-field effort, “Chaos and Creation in the Backyard,” reaffirmed his role as songwriting mastermind. I believe “12 Songs” does the same for Neil Diamond.

This album is all about the songs. Neil Diamond hasn't released a collection of songs like this in what is probably a very long time. I won’t pretend to have been following his career this entire time, but I will say that some of the deeper, more brooding songs on this album still maintain the charm of the light poppy numbers he is famous for, but they are anchored in deeper emotion.

These songs have real emotional impact. And that is what makes this album feel nearly flawless.

Low Skies : All The Love I Could Find Review

2006-03-02T16:24:00.000-08:00

First Impression:
Final Rating:

I'm not sure who holds the copyright here. I haven't signed any contract saying that my writing becomes the property of the Dispatch Media Group as far as I know. This is my review, published in the Columbus Alive newspaper.

Chicago four-piece Low Skies has the sort of downtrodden mystique that few artists can claim. There's a quiet rage to All the Love I Could Find that seems ready to combust, if only it could muster the strength. Morose and blues-tinged, if the characters described in the songs are going to hell, they're getting there on their own time.

"Stone Mountain," the opening track, describes how a person falls in love with a "boy from nowhere," only to cut his throat and leave him for dead. On "Sweet Young Girls," songwriter and lead singer Chris Salveter tells a former girlfriend, "I was hoping one day you would call my name in a car crash." The lyrics evoke minimalist authors like Raymond Carver, with characters that are usually morose and altered by substances. On "The Cause of It," Salveter's rich croon is complimented by organ and a three-part harmony.

Playing what critics are already gleefully dubbing "post-country," Low Skies explore familiar images of the Midwest, and all the dark, expansive places in between. While it has little variation in tempo and volume, this album boasts an almost otherworldly intensity. All the Love I Could Find provides a perspective on life for the off-the-wagon addict in all of us.

End Review -- This is already a serious contender for record of the year. I'm hard pressed to think of another album that aims for an aesthetic and nails it as dead-on as this one. This is a real winner.

Low Skies - Levelling.mp3
Low Skies - You Can't Help Those People.mp3
Low Skies - To Fail You.mp3

All The Love I Could Find on Amazon
Link to the review (until it's broken -- I don't think the Alive archives anymore)

Film School: Self-Titled Review

2006-01-19T12:27:00.000-08:00

First Impression:
Final Impression:

A dreamy mish-mash of genres, Film School's debut awkwardly (yet effectively) falls somewhere between grunge and late-'80s psychedelic pop. The disconnect between driving bass lines and turned-down, tuned-out vocals demands attention by its very evasiveness.

The track "11:11" can initially be a bit misleading. It begins with a disco-punk bass-and-drum beat that evokes recent hit songs. But seconds later, synth and delayed guitar noise banish those visions of newer-wave dancing in your head for the remaining six minutes. The song continues on a disembodied journey that builds, recedes, expands and finally goes supernova, leaving behind a cloud of reverb. Tracks like "Harmed," "Breet" and "Sick of the Shame" offer a bit of contrast to moodier compositions, mostly by turning down the noise. These relatively fuzz-free songs reveal the band's penchant for melody that's often hidden by distortion elsewhere.

Film School toes the line between pop accord and complete chaos. More accessible than some similarly noisy acts, Film School shows a good deal of promise as an emerging talent.

Fine Dining: Dilettantes and Debutantes Review

2005-12-20T10:15:00.000-08:00

An interesting aspect of indie-rock, particularly on a more local level, is that members of bands which play the music are often relics from college days of times past. That's why it's particularly refreshing to hear a type of music, which is most typically marketed to college kids, played (well) by college kids.

It is worth pointing out that the members of Fine Dining, currently members of both The Ohio State University and Ohio University, are all set to graduate this coming spring. Perhaps this makes them collegemen, although I'm not really sure where the age cut-off happens.

After indeed "co-opting the Columbus and Athens markets" as my counterpart Stephen pointed out, locals Fine Dining have recently released their debut full-length album Debutantes and Dilettantes to a fair amount of acclaim in local circuits. After procuring gigs at Elbo's and the Grog Shop and some favorable local press, it seems Fine Dining is on track for a five-year success plan (interestingly enough, probably by this point becoming college-rock relics themselves).

Jaded, aging hipsters will have a pretty easy go naming off influences (and maybe counting them off on two hands) as Fine Dining compositions invoke The Strokes, The Shins, Wilco, Braid, The New Pornographers, etc. While borrowing from all of these, they manage to forge ahead with a sound of their own. Combining catchy melodies and distorted guitars with time signatures, keys, and rhyme schemes that can change on a dime, the proceedings are fairly mathematical.

Debutantes and Dilletantes features some clever wordplay, this bit from the track 'Stranded': As my thoughts began to wonder, I found my mind's eye set on you, and I smiled/ but when I stepped outside I found myself beguiled / at the treacherous conditions in the wild.
That might be iambic pentameter or something; I imagine the English majors of Fine Dining could clue me in.

The production has a lo-fi quality which sounds somewhat contrived, but is conducive to the garage-y atmosphere they are attempting to provide. These songs are best when they aren't trying too hard, and it seems like Fine Dining accidentally does this from time to time.

It's exciting to hear a band possibly headed for success in their fledgling days, as the Fine Dining boys have released a fine record full of energy and charisma. Mild shortcomings don't derail what is a clever and spirited ride.

Debutantes and Dilettantes won't shock you, but it will catch you off guard from time to time. And you'll probably smile when it does.

Fine Dining - Rattlin' The Bricks.mp3
Fine Dining - Here Comes the Warm Jet.mp3

Fine Dining's official website

Jason Quicksall: A Touch Broken Review

2005-11-29T18:54:00.000-08:00

Singer-songwriter Jason Quicksall is a native to New Philadelphia, but found himself a new home after going to school at the Ohio State University.

He also found something else: a love of music.

"It really just began with me sitting in my dorm room and playing guitar," Quicksall said. "When I should have been studying, I was playing guitar. It felt more productive."

Quicksall, 26, had never really tried his hand at music before college. Now one of the more familiar faces in the Columbus scene, having played a number of shows in the area in the past few years, he has released his first full-length album, A Touch Broken.

The first track, Cool & Graceful, can indicate several different things. A very strong track in its own right, it is by far the most saturated with the alt-country that's been so popular for the last decade or so.

However, it just leads the way to a different feel overall. Supplemented by a slew of Columbus musicians, whose parts seem largely improvised, Quicksall takes a stab at blues and sings about everyday concerns. This can cause a few songs to seem a bit melodramatic, but this mostly is compensated for by the more spry numbers.

Despite being recorded at several different places by different people over the span of six months, there is still a good overall album to be found, despite some disconnect. A Touch Broken is well-paced and well-crafted, showing a lot of musicianship on the part of Mr. Quicksall. With consistently singable melodies and strong, versatile vocals, Quicksall really shows that he has something.

A Touch Broken at CD Baby.

Here are some tracks from the album:
Cool & Graceful.mp3
Tick Tock.mp3
Never Be Another.mp3

Jeff Buckley Tribute Rundown

2005-11-19T18:53:00.000-08:00

So I went to this "Jeff Buckley" thing last night at Workbook Studio, hosted by the Columbus Music Co-op.

The drive there was ever-so-slightly treacherous as it is in a part of town with which I am unfamiliar and I was depending on google directions to get there. I printed them off and took them with me, only to realize they didn't actually specify which way to turn at intersections. A hit curb and a minor panic attack later, I made it (by associating panic attacks with hit curbs, I think I've just identified myself with the young, driving, schoolgirl crowd).

Having been told to just 'look for the crowd of smoking people outside', I found it with little trouble once I found it. A door hung open for what appeared to be a dilapidated warehouse, adorned with a Clint Reno poster (the fancy-pants poster is the prior post and also hanging proudly on my 'rock trophy' wall in my room).

I imagine a somewhat similar experience for those non-past Jeff Buckley Tribute attendees / non-clientelle for the studio types.

Regardless, my limited night-driving hi-jinx were overshadowed by the rest of the evening.

Having been somewhat shunned by local publications (and overshadowed by the Bob Mould performance the same night), I was hoping people would still show up, and by all measures of assumption, it seemed people did. A crowd of seventy-five or so,20-30-something hipsters streamed in steadily the entire night. Admittedly, my hipster-dar was a little thrown off by the fact that when it's cold in Ohio, people tend to dress much the same. I had to turn to secondary measures of appraisal, such as the bottle of wine a group was sharing, etc.

There weren't any drunk OSU revelers, which scores points.

One of the things that struck me the most about the actual main space in Workbook where the concert took place was that in spite of the ambient lighting, the cool-retro arcade games, the white and red walls, the general level of kitsch-charm, etc, there was literally thousands and thousands of dollars of expensive recording equipment. Not being involved in recording of music, I can't shed much more light than that, except to say that Workbook is most definitely a recording studio.

Oh yeah, and the music. There were a few misses, but the musical quality was pretty top-notch. The Whiles played some tracks from their upcoming release, the "William F's" had some musical revolving door action and more or less almost shredded the backdrop art off the wall during their set, Steev Richter played with a band for the first time I've ever seen with late-addition guitarist Jonathan Hape (who had a great opening set) , Chris McCoy stretched his vocal chords a little bit, and The New Republic (formerly known to me as "The Pits" from Angry Son Records) recaptured the attention of a crowd that was getting ready to leave.

The musical stylings invoked were diverse, ranging from the folky-post punk of Joe Anderl and the Universal Walkers, to something bordering on hard-rock/metal, to some straightfoward acoustic-type stuff to blues and latin influence; all heavily soaked in pop. The Buckley covers were all interesting and again, fairly diverse.

There were also some Jeff Buckley trivia with prize giveaways, raffles of donated music-paraphernalia, and a generally low-key and amiable atmosphere. This night was definitely worth the $7 I spent to get in and the 15 minutes of my life I lost worrying about finding it.

Chris Mills: The Wall to Wall Sessions Review

2005-11-06T18:53:00.000-08:00

There has been a bit of a mounting theme with my reviews, including Chris Mills' new release The Wall to Wall Sessions. That is, it seems that I don't really like to review anything but country-laced, increasingly heavily orchestrated, alternative pop/rock/indie. There has been an abundance of pedal steel guitar, cello/french horn, and piano in the material I have reviewed. Make no mistakes, RFT (aka: myself) likes to rock with the best of 'em. I'm all about rockin'. I'm the rockin'est. All that aside, I'm doing it again, and that's my prerogative.

Chris Mills, AKA: the guitarist for the Fruit Bats, is an alt-country rocker who hails from the Chicago indie scene, following in the footsteps of Americana/REM-punk legends Uncle Tupelo.

For his fourth release, The Wall to Wall Sessions, it would seem Mills is attempting to go for the gold, as a promotional copy has landed in my hands (indicating a massive college promotion barrage).

The credited 17-piece "Chicago indie rock big band" lends to the rock-opus marketing of The Wall to Wall Sessions. The 'orchestra' was recorded live, to 2-track tape.

With this release, Mills says he's going for

“Something like the Phil Spector sound I’ve always loved, but combined with the imagery of bands like Neutral Milk Hotel or the Flaming Lips.”

And that really sums it up. In addition to bass, guitar, and drums, arranger David Nagler orchestrates vibraphone, glockenspiel, tambourine, spoons, trombone, viola, trumpet (played by Dave Max Crawford of The Sea and Cake), pedal steel guitar, banjo, tenor sax, baritone sax, flute, cello, piano, alto sax, clarinet, and oboe. Nora O'Conner of the New Pornographers provides backing vocals, although the indie-rock pedigree of the supporting band goes on and on. There are 25 musicians credited in the liner notes.

So, that's all pretty daunting. The Chris Mills Band makes Matt Pond PA look like the Ramones by comparison. In the post-Illinoise indie world, it seems like now is the best time for this album as any.

The Wall to Wall Sessions is a crescendo. It takes a lot of time to build up, and thus, the first track didn't really blow me away on the first listen. First impressions are something I always reflect on, and I've found that the music I come to really enjoy, I don't really like the first time. Upon more critical listening, I noticed things that I really dig, musically.

WtWS successfully blends lots of different types of music. Not allowing itself to be stuck to one category, it always leans on a pop/country foundation, but expresses itself through genres and decades, jumping from alternative, big band, Dixie (complete with the aforementioned spoons), classical, folk, bebop, and classic rock. These transitions are executed very adeptly, and do not detract from the listening experience.

This is a rather small point, but I have a soft spot for dry, crisp drumming, mostly so on the first few tracks. I don't know what kind of post-production was done, but the drums definitely don't sound like they were recorded in an orchestra pit. I love me some dry drums.

So with all of these points being scored with me, how can WtWS go wrong? Well, it can't. This is a really, really, really good album. The orchestra arrangements, while sometimes dangerously sauntering on the cheesy side, mostly accomplish what it seems they were intended to: to contribute to the 'wall of sound' and to add a timeless quality to the music. The lyrics are both world-weary and humorous.

Each track perfectly leads into the next. Mills pushes the tempo and then slows it back down, sometimes in the same song. Take note, singer/songwriters. This is how you make an album. In the orchestrated folk-flavored hipster kingdom, Chris Mills gives Sufjan a run for his crown.

PS: I almost went the entire article without mentioning Wilco.

Chris Mills tour dates (Ohio shows in a few days!)

Chris Mills - Chris Mills is Living the Dream.mp3

Chris Mills - You are My Favorite Song.mp3

matt pond PA : Several Arrows Later

2005-10-31T18:52:00.000-08:00

I was contemplating a review for this album... but since Rolling Stone has beat me to the punch (front page on their website) I simply must now. They have forced my hand.

matt pond PA didn't really make it on my radar until quite recently, and it seems that they've been busy trying to do so for awhile. Since they began their major-distribution onslaught in 1999 (CMJ making a note of the event), they have put out five albums in five years. The emotional "EMO" lyrical and musical material seems to be the kind of stuff that would be the result of living in a small town somewhere in my part of the country. No small feat when you're living in a van travelling the country.

Well, matt pond PA's quest for ironic indie-rock fame is complete as their latest release "Several Arrows Later" has graced the likes of Penthouse Magazine and now Radio Free Tobias.

Several Arrows Later is one of those records I wanted to like as soon as I heard it. The sheer amount of catchy melodies and precise, upbeat basslines really hit me in the face in an indie rock smile with a shrug kind-of-way. The jangle-pop guitar sound immediately struck me as being similar to acts I know such as Hey Mercedes, Pete Yorn, The Promise Ring, REM...this album is sure to be compared to The Shins, Coldplay, American Football, The Frames, Yo La Tengo, etc, etc, etc, etc. All of this blathering adult-contempoary comparison could be a kiss of death for this eight-piece band (at least, eight different people are credited as full-time musicians in the liner notes).

Oh yeah, about that. Several Arrows Later, while singer-songwriter material at heart, has heavy usage of pedal steel, violin, cello, vibraphones and wurlitzer. Wurlitzer. Eight people. Red flag?

So, all things considered, it seems like it could be really good or really bad.

Several Arrows later really is helped by some strong tracks which hold together what is a really cohesive album. I know there are some mixed opinions on lead singer Matt Pond's vocals, but I feel they really complement the music quite well and are never the focal point of the music. Pond keeps it low and dry.

The arrangement is done really well and shows a lot of musical competence. Much like the vocals, the 'extra' instruments really add texture to the music rather than drawing attention to themselves. Unlike other orchestrated pop, you almost don't notice that there is much more than some indie guys playing guitars and a drumset. Rarely are any of the strings featured alone.

Once one gets past the pop explosion, there is substance to be found. The songs have a very verse verse chorus kind of structure, but the ambient orchestration helps round it out, a good example of this being the opening track, "Halloween". From song to song, the flow is never really disrupted. This is a great example of an album. The track order is smartly and effectively done.

Several Arrows' greatest strength can also be a weakness. It suffers the curse of something you have to be "in the mood" for. The vocals are mixed pretty low, and this can cause it to seem like background music if you aren't actively listening. If nothing else, it's enjoyable background music.

"Several Arrows Later" really strikes a chord with me and captures the feeling of autumn in the northeastern US very well. The October 11th release date and the brown and leaf-filled artwork is no coincidence. Those who don't buy into the whole seasonal, regional thing will find music that draws from many familiar sources while maintaining a sound exclusive to this band. One track trickles into the next, like the weeks of this all-too short season in this part of the country. The emotional setting captured by this "Several Arrows Later" strikes me as being very poignant and genuine, something that is very rare in an album.

Review: Chained to the Crown

2005-10-23T18:50:00.000-07:00

Tiara's new release "Chained to the Crown" blazes new trails for the iconic Columbus band.

The recording of CttC has a stark 'wide open spaces' quality, and this seems to say something about the current direction for the band.

"I think it's really hopeful, which, for me is kind of strange," said Tiara frontman Eric Rottmayer, defining the mood of the record. "It's definitely a contrast. A lot of the other (older) stuff is a little more emotional. I wouldn't say emo, but a lot of people put that tag on it."

CttC is of an inrospective tone, in lieu of the driven indie-pop that Tiara is more well-known for. A good example of this is "Expert Eyes", whose deliberateness is punctuated by a choral repetition of the phrase "expert eyes". The next track, "Green and Grey" has a defined country flavor, Rottmayer's soft croon complemented by new member Erik Kang's slide guitar.

If anything else, while representative of Tiara days of yore, introductory track "We Learned from the Best" and the next three tracks collectively detract from the overall meditative feel. These songs, particularly "No Better for It" are very good songs in their own right, but stick out when clumped together in an upbeat chunk in the beginning of the record.

Chained to the Crown when listened to as a whole, is an emotionally complex collection of songs which manage to be wistful about growing older while still looking to a future full of promise.

to think how long we've gone and how far/ from "we're the same" to "the next face"

With a strong promotional effort to follow the Chained to the Crown October 25th national release, thanks to label We Want Action, it seems like Tiara finally has a chance to be one of the next faces in the national arena of indie rock.

Harvey Danger : Little by Little Review

2005-10-18T18:50:00.000-07:00

Remember Harvey Danger? Their first major release "Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone" included the quintessential annoying hit single "Flagpole Sitta". Well it wasn't as much annoying as we were all oversaturated with it, as tends to happen every time the national music industry decides something is a good thing. In terms of my lifespan, to go back to this era is a significant journey, and my middle school years is a place I would rather not tread at this point in time.

Of course, the success of such a novelty song just screams "one-hit wonder"... or to clarify, one mainstream-commercial success wonder. They put out another release in 2000, King James Version, to a certain amount of critical, if not financial success. The band was dropped from Warner Brothers and promptly broke up. After working on side projects, the band reformed in 2004, and started working on what became their new album.

The band is releasing their new release "Little by Little" in its entirety on their website. In the band's own words, here's why they're doing it. People are encouraged to make monetary donations to their cause, or to simply buy the CD, with an extra 30 minutes of music.

To be honest, releasing a record for free on the internet is going to make more of a splash than putting out a new one on any sort of label would. So does the record itself deserve any attention?

Little by Little certainly has a different overall sound than the last two records. The song "Cream & Bastards Rise" sounds a little more akin to older material with a stark post-grunge, sarcastic edge. With the musical climate as it is, the distorted guitar and 60's keyboards almost seem derivative. Also, it's a huge pet peeve of mine when a song screams SINGLE!!!! and this song definately does. It disrupts the flow of the album. This song is a connection to previous records, but seems out of place on what is overall a more reflective piece. If anyone actually buys this album for the single, there's a chance they might be pissed. It doesn't fit the record.

Piano, played by guitarist Jeff J. Lin, has a very prominent role on much of the album, with four of the first five tracks starting with piano introduction. This will cause comparisons to Ben Folds, Keane, and even Elvis Costello, and all are not entirely off. Regardless, this makes this section sound a lot the same.

Generally speaking, the record all meshes pretty well, with the exception of Cream & Bastards. The piano introduction section is limited to the first half of the record, with the more diverse stuff being in the latter half. Piano remains quite prominent thoughout, and is very well complimented by the excellent vocals of Sean Nelson. The whole of Little by Little is quite poppy, and bears comparison to the mood of Transatlanticism. Jangly, Chris Walla-esque guitars keeps pace.

Lyrical content remains mischievous, but turns introspective at times and even dabbles politically on "Diminshing Returns". A reoccurring theme seems to be focused on disappointment and seems to allude to the bands meteoric major-label experiences.

All this aside, the knock on the album is that it is not special in any way, besides the vocals. Musically speaking, while interesting at times, overall it does little more than announce the return of the once-successful band. This record doesn't do much to set itself apart and sounds quite a bit like a lot of music out there.

After a five year break, it seems that Harvey Danger is ready to make a splash on the music industry, but not entirely by the quality of the release. Little by Little is a solid, if unremarkable, album. It holds its ground in some respects but will ultimately be overshadowed by its unconventional marking strategy.

Monday Nights (NAVAR & Jonathan Hape)

2005-09-22T18:48:00.000-07:00

I ventured down to Little Brothers' tonight to see Jonathan Hape and NAVAR. This is a show I have been trying to help promote and so of course I myself am going to make the trip.

It's always rather interesting promoting a show that you go to, because it's not like you can just enjoy the show for the sake of going to a show. There are expectations involved. I don't think, until you do it full-time and thus experience the corresponding disconnect, you can really take in a show you have been promoting.

I found myself looking at the door a lot.

Regardless, Jonathan never disappoints. His supporting cast can change and for the most part lacks charisma, but Rob, the drummer, and Jonathan certainly make up for it. A good amount of energy in this show considering the rather sparse crowd. If Jonathan is ever desparate enough to quote me, I will provide a quote of praise:

Jonathan Hape successfully combines emotional intensity with a deceptively laid-back 90's-laden indie rock sound, complemented with infectious and haunting melodies.

There were definitely some interesting problems with the audio. From a strictly logistical standpoint, it was a typical, mildly disastrous set.

NAVAR was what I mostly expected: polished, inoffensive, and forgettable. I was hoping they would pull a rabbit out of their hat. After all, they had been able to tour the east, leaving a fair amount of positive press in their wake. No rabbit.

Between songs they did what can best be described as an impression of the "Sunscreen" song. Talking slightly rhythmically with percussive backing. The content was comparable to what you would hear an uninformed, uppity liberal talk about very loudly outside a coffeeshop. Yawn.

Final verdict: Jonathan Hape 12, NAVAR, 0.

Water and Cigarette Butts (Cursive at Bernie's)

2005-09-19T18:48:00.000-07:00

I recently travelled to Bernie's Distillery in order to accomplish two things:
1. pass out flyers
2. see cursive play & see what the deal is with el jesus de magico.

So I accomplished 3/5's of these things. It's been a few days so I think a lot of details will be glossed over. Here goes an attempt to portray the events that happened. Names will be changed because I don't remember them. I don't even remember if there are names to make reference to in the first place.

Here begins my life as a journalist. Pretension: commence!

I had only been to Bernie's once and a halth before. Once to pass out flyers outside of it and to briefly venture down the stairs, only to fear what sorts of things I may have seen had I gone all the way down. I chose not to venture further. The second, I went in a little deeper only to be surprised by what appeared to be a deli. I knew Bernie's had a deli. I just didn't expect to discover it.

So I showed up, flyers in hand, ID ready, prepared to descend into a cloud of girl jeans, lip rings, and ironic T-shirts and boy did I ever! I was takling to a kid about what kind of music he liked. "The kind that makes your heart explode!" he exclaimed. Nice kid.

Opening band, whom I have since identified as "Ladyfinger" or something of the sort, was an unremarkable hardcore band. I am unable to pass an accurate judgement on the band and actually appear to be focusing on the experience of the night since I don't really remember the music. I watched them an was touched several times by a large bearded man.

El Jesus began their set and basically provided me with what I really expected.

Let me take this time to mention that the sound at Bernie's is horrible. I think that's part of the experience. Here's another thing: unless you are in the very front row, you can't see. This is because all the bands line their amps basically anywhere where they have room. The choices are:
1. inside the wall
2. surrounding the stage

This is pretty normal, except the stage isn't really a stage at all. It's just a designated spot. Surrounded by wooden columns that support the roof.

While I couldn't really see or hear, El Jesus appeared to have a lot of charisma until it seemed that their bass head burned out. At this point the crowd was really beginning to amass in order to see "Cursifix".

Now for anyone who A is reading this and B. expects to hear about the Cursive concert, you will be horribly disapointed. After being touched by the bearded man again I decided that I needed some air. In addition to being small and dirty, Bernie's is also extremely poorly venilated. Maybe I'm not punk enough. I don't think I ever was. I think being punk and socially uncomfortable are contradictory. I went outside.

Here is where I met the real story of the night. The kids who couldn't get in. A girl who I had seen riding a skateboard about only an hour before was now dejectedly crumbled on the sidewalk outside the entrance. This is no small feat considering the number of people who have certainly vomited on this very spot. I couldn't help but consider the type of dangers she was going through in order to rest her face. I didn't talk to her.

There was another couple of kids who couldn't get in because Bernie's had reached their limit of people less than 21 they were going to let in at this time. Another couple of guys got out because they couldn't get close, either. I stood and made conversation with some random people as long as social convention would allow.

After I heard the show start up again, I tried to re-enter, only to not be able to get anywhere near the non-deli half of Bernie's. I was finally able to fight my way back to the bathroom. However, I can assume that unless I was in the front row, I couldn't have seen anything anyways. I wasn't really in the mood to listen to Cursive from the deli. I could hear them just as well from the sidewalk. And there weren't 60 people past capacity outside.

So in conclusion, this was a rather fruitless concert. Be wary of national acts playing in a basement, except THE Basement, unless you like guys with beards. Punk charm gets lost in crowds of emo kids.