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Thurston Moore
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Demolished Thoughts
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Matador
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ESM Rating: 9/10 |
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Rarely do
musicians get better with age. Most songsmiths these days are more comparable
to that bottle of $9.99 merlot in the local grocery store than a prized vino safely stored in an old-fashioned
barrel, tucked away in a subterranean fortress of the elite. Upon first glance,
I’d assume Thurston Moore, the man
who gave the world Sonic Youth, to be the former. The prolific NYC native has a
bulbous body of work to his name; however, most of the catalogue should be
termed “auditory voyeurism.” Demolished
Thoughts breaks Moore’s sonic trend, knocking me and the rest of the world
on our asses with an album full of wicked, haunting, consummated songwriting.
A rundown of
instruments employed on Demolished
Thoughts would imply that this is a folk album: violins, harps, six-string
and 12-string acoustic guitars, stand-up bass, and drums garner the most
airtime. However, Demolished Thoughts is
something quite different. The near absence of vocals throughout the album
digresses from any pundits’ hopes of an easy folk classification. As with the
body of his work, Moore explores the
depth of instrumental music — but, for once, in a way the average person can actually enjoy. The
nearly seven-minute “Space” almost goes totally vocal-free, exploring
variations on a fluid 12-string guitar riff. Open guitar tunings litter Demolish Thoughts and the 12-string
takes center stage, leading to a record with plenty of droning tones and
delicate melodies that dance with “Bron-Yr-Aur” drunken delight.
“Circulation”
is the closest thing to a hit on this nine-song album.
Faster than most tunes on Demolished
Thoughts, it features more singing and less instrumental expeditions.
That’s not to say the song lacks Moore’s classic breakdown, the riff taking a hard right exit while the final third of the
album goes straight crazy with alien-like reverb blending with deep strings.
“Circulation” also is the song most clearly bearing the brand of the album’s
producer — Beck. Moore’s good buddy and jam partner, once
the king of alternative, Beck agreed to produce his Right Coast friend’s latest
work. And the results speak for themselves, Beck reeling in the 53-year-old Thurston Moore while allowing him the
acceptable level of weird and “innovative.” Demolished
Thoughts isn’t a remake of Beck’s Modern
Guilt, but the man probably deserves a co-author credit for this surprise
bottle of bubbly. By Alex Lemonde-Gray
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| Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. |
It’s A Corporate World
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| Quite Scientific |
| ESM Rating: 8/10 |
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It is a
corporate world. That’s why I’m typing this album review on a piece of
technology that’s made by the same company which will allow me to upload the
latest picture of my newest facial hair to Facebook via Bluetooth while texting
the update to my brother’s cell phone. Fortunately I will not lift a finger,
opting instead to do all of this by voice command so that I can avoid
privatized health care for the arthritis I may suffer if I was to use anything
but a whisper. This review will play, in real time, on my niece’s car seat DVD
player. She will not read it, because she is only three. I don’t blame her.
See how wild
and crazy I can get about the subject of corporations? I honestly fall into the
category of people who do not care at all about their presence or their
practices. I would, quite honestly, take almost any corporate job if offered
enough money, days off, and a “no shower week” once a year. Yes, you are right
— up until this point, this ranting has had absolutely nothing to do with Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. or their new
album, except for its name. But I will try my best to connect my point as we
move forward.
It’s A Corporate World has been gilded
as “great morning music” and “genre defining,” and with these statements I
agree. I think the album is pleasurable, balanced, non-abrasive, good, fair,
brimming with just enough talent, and offensive in no way whatsoever. It is the
perfect corporate employee — someone with whom I wouldn’t mind spending
eight hours a day. I may even form a workplace relationship with Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr., allowing the
two of us to outfit a nice little spot with an above-ground pool so we could
carpool in the mornings.
Just like a
good corporate friend, Dale Earnhardt
Jr. Jr. can relish in humor and laugh at their position in life. There’s
nothing worse than taking yourself too seriously or being too competitive for
your age, and It’s A Corporate World makes
good on this element. The album cover is the best I‘ve seen in months, and the
content therein is another pleasurable release from two guys with the best band
name of the year. By Will Tunstall
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| GroundScore |
Speed Kills
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| SMB |
| ESM Rating: 7/10 |
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When
reggae/punk band GroundScore emerged
from the shadows of the Capital City in 2009, their infectious melodies
instantly took the East Coast by storm. The band’s debut album, Healthy Children, showcased a skillful
infusion of rolling reggae grooves and upbeat punk jams that melded perfectly
into one coherent sound. Reminiscent of genre greats like Sublime and Pepper, GroundScore was the sonic manifestation
of summer fun, and their fans ate it up. The band wasted no time building up a
rabid fan base on the touring circuit, then retreated into the recording studio
to concoct their sophomore release, Speed
Kills.
And the
result is a bit surprising. It’s clear that GroundScore has been doing some soul searching and experimentation
as of late, and it seems that they’ve wound up in a tug of war between their
reggae and punk influences. Speed Kills struggles to find middle ground, with songs flipping back and forth between
choruses that come across as a bit too hardcore, and verses that float along sounding
a bit too mellow. The unity of their previous work seems to have fallen by the
wayside, and as a result, many of their newer songs are too disjointed to be
catchy. In GroundScore’s defense,
their latest album clocks in at an ambitious 17 tracks, so it would be wishful
thinking to expect every song to be a hit.
But there
are certainly some moments of brilliance. Experimental acoustic guitar jams
like “Delayed Gratification” and “Candy From Strangers” show promising growth,
while songs like “Here We Are” and “Not Involved” hearken back to the band’s
original sound. Speed Kills may not
be GroundScore’s best work, but any
band hoping to take their sound to the next level has to be willing to go
through some growing pains. So here’s hoping their third release will be the
best yet. By Allison Arteaga
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| These Trails |
These Trails
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| Drag City |
| ESM Rating: 7/10 |
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Have you
ever stumbled upon a cool old Polaroid picture? One that you had no idea about? Or that found artifact that escapes your ability to place from
where exactly it came? Those moments in time can capture one’s imagination and
take hold of emotions, especially when that found object happens to be in
musical form.
These Trails is a moniker affixed to a
one-time musical project from way back in 1973 in the hills of Honolulu,
Hawaii. Designed by two people, Margaret Morgan and Patrick Cockett, who were
both born on Kauai and at the time were live-in partners, These Trails had a natural fondness for traditional Hawaiian
sounds. With the help of a few other traditional-minded instrumentalists, the
group delved into a psych-folk music world with deep roots in the Islands. And
the splendid result was a one-time eponymous offering, now reissued by Drag
City. Though the organic sounding, mellow, and well-crafted pop was certainly solid,
the good vibes would only prove to be momentary, as they never recorded again.
This a
completely obscure gem of an album, and with bands like Fleet Foxes and Iron
& Wine leading the current indie folk trend, there is sure to be a pretty
healthy fan base for this long-defunct project. For us surfers, there's even a song about getting groovy on Rusty Miller's porch. These Trails, whether you enjoy the crusty folk genre or not, is
well worth a listen, if for no other reason than to hear an interesting
snapshot in time and to bask in the obscurity. By Peter Viele
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| White Hills |
H-P1
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| Thrill Jockey |
| ESM Rating: 7/10 |
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There is a
concept on H-P1 — I just don’t
know what it is. There is ample dead space and soft time on White Hills’ latest album, and I can’t
figure out why. I like H-P1 when
there is sound, but every once in a while there are eight or nine minutes that
led me to completely lose interest. Silence sucks, and for this reason I
wouldn’t have White Hills play my
wedding. It would probably be awkward. In no way do I mean to be harsh, because
this band has talent that shows like butterflies in the wind. But the silence,
the silence makes me sad.
Being biased
towards upbeat pop and quick intros disqualifies my ears from a true evaluation.
But if my ears are hearing nothing, then what is there to evaluate at all? If
the generator is shot then there is no energy — if there is no energy
then the only thing that will make people happy is booze. And I don’t know if
this album comes with any.
The good
news is that HP-1 works when it’s on,
like to-the-point track “Upon Arrival.” White
Hills offer up some hot jams for people in hot pants during a hot summer,
so just skip ahead during the slowdowns and wait for some really fine guitar work,
some energetic classic ensemble, and music that is, if nothing else, function-worthy
for anyone’s invested time. I do hope that HP-1 comes with a board game in the bonus pack — just in case a hurricane
comes my way. By Will Tunstall
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