Chevelle: Point #1

I don't listen to a whole lot of mainstream-alternative-rock radio these days, mainly because my music tastes have shifted (or perhaps, rather, have been left behind in the decades preceding my birth). Nevertheless, I will turn it on every now and then, which has left me increasingly closer to a startling, unfortunate conclusion. Despite the undercurrent of new, diverse influences in radio rock (electro and indie stuff...Foster the People and the like), a big percentage of the bands are all playing the same post-grunge/hard rock music, just under different names. Moreover, it's totally indistinguishable from the same post-grunge/hard rock that bands were playing 10 or 15 years ago. When I hear a song I haven't heard before, I seriously cannot pin down the date, even within 5 or 10 years, because that strain of music hasn't really gone anywhere.

Mini-rant over. Despite all of this, there is one hard-rock/alternative metal band that's managed to stay at least marginally different (and consistently good) from most of the other hard-rock/alternative metal bands, and that's Chevelle. Sure, frontman Pete Loeffler sounds just like Maynard James Keenan, but according to their site, they've put out five studio albums in which they've managed to hammer out a pretty good, thumping, fairly unique (or at least very recognizable) sound.

Wait, just five albums? Nope. Here's where the subject of this post comes in, Chevelle's Point #1. This, the album conspicuously missing from their site's discography (the result of a legal struggle that nearly derailed their budding career), is the album that started it all. Despite two decently-performing radio singles (the title track and "Mia") and a long string of successes since, this album has been all-but-forgotten by most; however, after hit album after hit album, Point #1 remains my absolute FAVORITE Chevelle album. I think it definitely deserves a closer look, which I'll try to do here.

Anyone who's pretty familiar with Steve Albini's extensive production (or sound engineering) career, should be able to recognize his touch on the album pretty quickly. Reportedly, the band was dissatisfied with his work, a marked step away from the polished, layered crunch of their subsequent albums. Often derided for being a more simplistic Tool imitation, Chevelle is perhaps at their Tooliest here, as their more raw, stripped-down sound brings to mind early Tool albums. Indeed, anyone who's heard Tool's "Sober" will instantly recognize the similarities between that song and Chevelle's "Skeptic."

Apart from the sonic differences, the songwriting is noticeably different from their later releases. Though the notoriously cryptic lyrics are almost wholly intact, the song structures ultimately lack the tightness and catchiness that have contributed to their success. Many of the songs are plagued by unnecessary repetitiveness (their one-chord instrumental opening track almost seems to foreshadow this). There are a lot of great musical moments on this album that are dragged down by length or by weaker parts of the songs. This can probably be attributed to the fact that many of these songs go beyond simple verse-chorus-verse structures ("Dos," "Peer," "SMA"), though this approach is somewhat hit-and-miss.

And yet, despite all of its flaws, it's still my favorite Chevelle album. Why? Maybe it's that I'm totally a fan of that dry, sparse In Utero sound. Or maybe, in eschewing radio-ready hooks in favor of more ambitious (though unpolished) song structures, they appeal more to my weirder musical tastes. I don't know; for all of the familiar Chevelle traits that have already established themselves on this early album, there's something about it that sounds different. Almost exciting, at times.

Title track "Point #1" alternates between two simple two-chord patterns for four minutes, and yet its simplicity lends it a driving, hypnotic feeling for which Loeffler's soaring vocals are only the icing on the cake. There's more of a Pixies clean-and-soft/dirty-and-loud dynamic going on throughout this album, used to good effect in this track, as well as "Blank Earth," among others.

My favorite song on the album is definitely "Anticipation," a quick, drum-centric song that sounds unlike any other song Chevelle's ever done. Speaking of drums, drummer Sam Loeffler turns in a characteristically solid performance. Though much of his work seems to focus on serving the song, there are songs like "Anticipation," as well as "Peer" (another one of my favorites) where his drumming moves the song along.

This album, while it may stand out when placed alongside their subsequent albums, is undeniably Chevelle. Chevelle in an early, unrefined state, taking their first steps into the world of hard rock album-ating. Overall, Point #1 is a raw album, but I can't help but totally love it. Maybe it's just a matter of personal taste; maybe you'll love it too.

Tracks:

1. Open
2. Point #1
3. Prove to You
4. Mia
5. Skeptic
6. Anticipation
7. Dos
8. Long
9. Blank Earth
10. SMA
11. Peer 

Bargain Bin #4 (EMF: Unbelievable)

I am fascinated by the music that came out of the indie-alternatve-dance scenes in late 80s/early 90s Britain. From acid house by the likes of 808 State to the psychedelic guitar-based rock of the legendary Stone Roses, Manchester's "Madchester" scene made the city the ultimate party destination. The variety of sounds spun off into "baggy" music and spread throughout the country, while the parallel "grebo" scene developed and fizzled, causing many kids to adopt bad clothes and even worse haircuts for a couple of years.

EMF (or, Epsom Mad Funkers, contrary to not-so-popular belief) found themselves somewhere in between all of these sounds, churning out techno-influenced dance rock that brought them musical success in the early 90s with the release of their 1990 album, Schubert Dip. While all four singles from the album, a play on words relying on the similarities between Austrian early Romantic composer Franz Schubert and a certain dessert, charted in the UK and on the American rock charts, EMF is undoubtedly best known for their lead single. "Unbelievable" shot up to #1 on the Hot 100 charts, garnering them one-hit wonder status for future generations of TV commercial viewers.

This is yet another album I picked up for 25 cents, choosing it solely off the infectiousness of "Unbelievable," as I was unfamiliar with the rest of their work. Though I hadn't heard any of their other songs, I figured it wouldn't be too far removed from what every other guitar-synth-and-Madchester-dance-drumming band of the time sounded like. I popped it into my laptop and skipped straight to "Unbelievable," the main riff grabbing me and nodding my head back and forth just as I remembered. After the last "you're unbelievable" uttered by EMF frontman James Atkin, it went straight into the next track.

Though "Girl of an Age" starts out promisingly by sampling a Sesame Street conversation between Ernie and Bert, it's neither catchy nor driving enough to hold the attention that "Unbelievable" brought upon them. Lacking the charm of the prior song, it just sounds cheesy and outdated. Unfortunately, that fairly well describes most of the album.

Leadoff track "Children" starts the album off strongly enough before exploding into my favorite track "Long Summer Days," a driving song that sounds like a heavier, more ominous version of "Unbelievable." Segueing straight into the next song with a shared drum beat, the album hits a lull before picking up a little bit with the one-two bipolar combination of "I Believe" and "Unbelievable," then falling once more with the album's uneven back half.

Overall, Schubert Dip plays out just like one might expect: an album centered around a strong single, with the band trying to feel out the surrounding area, looking to recreate the magic of that infectious piano hook. They get close in a couple areas, but not quite. Accordingly, there isn't much variance in the sound from track to track, just the quality. Nevertheless, it's an album with a handful of decent tracks ("Long Summer Days" and "Unbelievable" really are great tracks) in between the muddled indie-dance filler, and it's one to check out if bands like Jesus Jones, Ned's Atomic Dustbin, or perhaps even Inspiral Carpets are your thing.

Tracks:

1. Children
2. Long Summer Days
3. When You're Mine
4. Travelling Not Running
5. I Believe
6. Unbelievable
7. Girl of an Age
8. Admit It
9. Lies
10. Longtime

Bargain Bin #3 (Catherine Wheel: Happy Days)

I guess this was supposed to be a series of posts in which I detail my delightful 25-cent CD finds, but my posts have been terribly sporadic. Finally, I've come around to blog about an album I found ages ago from one of my favorite bands, Catherine Wheel.

While lumped in with the British shoegaze scene, Catherine Wheel was never quite a shoegaze band. Sure, they had a textured sound with swirling guitars and ethereal melodies, but the Wheel (much like similar band Swervedriver) always leaned towards a more straightforward rock feel. This influence played an increasingly larger role in their sound with each release, culminating in their 1995 album Happy Days. Though the album as a whole sounds right at home within the 90s American alt-rock scene, they do retain a few tools from their shoegazy bag-o'-tricks, churning out a big, solid record that manages to straddle both sides of the pond with great success.

Wheel lets the listener know right away what kind of album Happy Days will be, coming right out of the gate with the explosive opening track "God Inside My Head" before settling into a rhythm of rock-oriented tracks accented by the odd slower/shoegazier song. A nod to the sound of their previous album Chrome and Ferment before it, "Heal" is a good midtempo shoegaze ballad, reminiscent of "Black Metallic."

Ironically, the smoothest, dreamiest track on the album is the most abrasively-named one, "Eat My Dust You Insensitive F**k," showing frontman Rob Dickinson at his vocal best as he beautifully croons the title's lyrics over minimal, atmospheric instrumentation. Dickinson's vocals, a standout feature on all of Catherine Wheel's albums, are smooth enough for the melodic shoegaze sound yet powerful enough to cut through their more metal-tinged ventures ("God Inside My Head," "My Exhibition"). Catherine Wheel's timekeeper Neil Sims contributes another album's worth of consistently great drumming, particularly evidenced in "Hole," as his kinetic drumming powers the drum-centric song, and "Kill My Soul," the closing track. These two songs, in addition to "Eat My Dust," are my favorite songs on the album, and Sims's drumming is probably a significant part of that.

An additional track of note is another song that falls on the more shoegaze-oriented side of the Catherine Wheel spectrum, "Judy Staring at the Sun," featuring backing vocals by Tanya Donelly, adding to the atmospheric feel of the track. Donelly brings a long history of work in legendary alternative bands, as she was a co-founder of Throwing Muses, Belly, AND The Breeders, so this is definitely a very cool thing to hear if you're a fan of any of those bands (and, well, you should be).

Although Catherine Wheel moved towards a more polished hard rock sound for this outing, they certainly retained their familiar sense of melody and all of the other musical qualities that separated them from the rest of the shoegaze pack. If you enjoyed their previous two albums (and don't mind musicians who look up at the crowd every once in a while), despite the odd weak spot that shows itself every now and then over this lengthy album, popping Happy Days into your player should be an overall enjoyable experience.

Tracks:

1. God Inside My Head
2. Waydown
3. Little Muscle
4. Heal
5. Empty Head
6. Receive
7. My Exhibition
8. Eat My Dust You Insensitive Fuck
9. Shocking
10. Love Tips Up
11. Judy Staring at the Sun
12. Hole
13. Fizzy Love
14. Kill My Soul

Check it.

No Age: Nouns

I'm on a Tumblr-to-Blogger roll, so here's a bit I recently wrote to accompany a picture of the band No Age, a brilliant noise rock band named after an SST compilation. I mean, that automatically makes them cool, but they've got the tunes to back it up.

From Tumblr:

No Age.

Soundtrack to senior year. When I first heard them, I think Weirdo Rippers had just come out. I thought the sound(noise)scapes on that album were pretty cool, but it wasn’t until they harnessed that energy with the reins of melody on Nouns that I fell in love with them.

Maybe that makes me a noise-punk poser or something; I don’t care. I think in terms of overall quality, those two albums are pretty comparable, but Nouns had the stronger standout tracks. It’s the difference between “Everybody’s Down” and “Brain Burner.” Sure, the former’s a great thrash track, but the latter is one of the most brilliant album closers I’ve ever heard.

I’m not so much a fan of their newer stuff. Did they “sell out,” as the purists claim? Probably not. It’s probably just because I’m not a very good indie kid anymore; rather, I’ve found that I’m more at home in the 80s and early 90s alternative scene. Then again, that may be why I keep coming back (or forward) to No Age: for those glimmers of the DIY punk ethic and lo-fi fuzzy melodies that permeated the music of old.

So, in short, I'm not as in love with No Age anymore (no reflection of the quality of their tunes, my music tastes have just changed), but Nouns is still one of my favorites. The band expertly walks that frayed metaphorical tightrope between melody and noise, smoothing out the static-y edges while still maintaining a sense of aural chaos. Fuzzy pop tunes like "Teen Creeps" and "Eraser" will please any fan of a good ol' melody, while fans of the first album's experimental noise have the droning "Things I Did When I Was Dead" and "Impossible Bouquet," among others. But in my opinion, the best tracks are the brilliant punk tunes "Sleeper Hold" and "Brain Burner" (particularly the latter), quick bursts of distortion and energy that are enough to knock you off your feet.

Or at least to knock you on your feet and en route to the record store. Seriously, this is a cool album to own in its physical form. The packaging was nominated for a Grammy (yes, they have Grammys for that) and includes tons of cool photographs and artwork. Candid shots, crowd shots, and one sweet cassette collection.

Check it out.

1. Miner
2. Eraser
3. Teen Creeps
4. Things I Did When I Was Dead
5. Cappo
6. Keechie
7. Sleeper Hold
8. Errand Boy
9. Here Should Be My Home
10. Impossible Bouquet
11. Ripped Knees
12. Brain Burner

What's That Buz-zine sound?

I always think that I never have time/inspiration to write on this blog, but then I spend countless hours scrolling Tumblr and banging out my musical thoughts through reblogs of artist images.

So now, realizing that some of my best writing comes in the form of stream-of-consciousness rants that nobody will ever see, I've decided to update this blog (which, coincidentally, nobody will ever see) with stuff from the bands that I've been digging and writing up on Tumblr.

First up, a pair of songs from Buzzcocks and Magazine. What's the connection between these two bands?

From the pages of my Tumblr blog:

Howard Devoto left the Buzzcocks in 1977 to form Magazine, a pioneering post-punk band that, while short-lived, had immeasurable influence on the direction that music would take once all the young dudes took the safety pins out of their faces.

I still have a hard time deciding whether I like Buzzcocks or Magazine more. I know that they’re both crazy amazing bands and ranking crazy amazing bands is lame and it doesn’t matter and I should just shut up and enjoy the music because they’re wonderful.

But I can’t help it.

I enjoy ranking bands. And TV shows. And pizza chains.

(Domino’s, Pizza Hut, Little Caesar’s, by the way. Crazy bread.)

I used to be scared of Caesar, but I digress.

The only thing that I have managed to decisively declare about the two bands regards a Devoto-penned riff that made appearances in songs by both bands: Buzzcocks’ “Lipstick” and Magazine’s “Shot by Both Sides.” While “Lipstick” is a excellent, buzzing little pop song, the Magazine song has a dark complexity (not to mention, a killer solo) that tips the scales in their favor.

Advantage Magazine.

Above: A 1976 picture of the Buzzcocks, with Devoto (left).

Was I right?

Probably not.

 Decide for Yourself

Tumblng around.

I have a couple drafts waiting for some finishing touches, as well as a slew of ideas that I've been kicking around and tossing against the wall in the creative parts of my brain. They should be up soon.

Also, I just made a tumblr. I don't know why.

For those who may wonder, I have terrible ADD combined with a serious case of perfectionism. These seemingly contrary conditions combine in the worst ways, ensuring that I never get anything done.

Also, school. A neverending queue of papers, projects, and papers always stands in my way, and when I do make progress, the last thing I want to do after nailing down a couple of papers is to write more.

Anyway, I promise new stuff will be posted shortly.

Porter Robinson: The State (with SKisM remix)

My last post was the first in a two-part series on "dubstep," a series in which I will quickly clear my creative system of its residual wub-wubs and get back to classic alternative/indie/punk and the like. Normally, I don't post songs like this, but perhaps these ubiquitous sounds, nearly unavoidable over the last three years or so (though the sound dates back long before its mainstream explosion), have subconsciously influenced me. I said last time that this post would be about the first "dubstep" song I ever liked (and one of the four or five total tracks that I like), the track that remains by far my favorite from the scene.

This post spotlights Porter Robinson's brilliant track "The State," along with its subsequent remix by SKisM, the artist I featured in the last post. I stumbled on to this guy via a Facebook posting, probably from Judge Andrew Napolitano or someone similar, about a "libertarian dubstep" artist featured in an LA Weekly article. Naturally, this intrigued me, not because I was particularly fond of dubstep, but rather the "libertarian" modifier (not to get political, but I am a diehard little-L libertarian).

As it turned out, Robinson is perhaps more anarchic/anarcho-capitalist than the simple libertarian label originally suggested, but the story itself focuses on "The State" and the more basic politics of the track. This track is a darkly aggressive indictment of typical statist government policy, fueled by Austrian School and libertarian icon Murray Rothbard's writings. The vocal samples come from a Jeff Riggenbach reading of Rothbard's magnum opus, For a New Liberty: The Libertarian Manifesto, read over rhythmic percussion and a melody that sounds more Arabic than Austrian. More reserved than much of its aggressive contemporaries, the song seems place heavy emphasis on the words, as if it were an exercise in the effective use of vocal samples, tending to be a bit on the repetitive side. Make no mistake, this is an excellent track, but if you're looking for a dub-driven adrenaline rush rather than an economics lesson, its remix counterpart may be more up your alley.

While Robinson's original version is ominous in its own right, SKisM's remix is downright horrific. In a good way. The remix ditches the agenda in favor of a pure musical assault. He saves only the most brutal parts of the vocal sample, tweaked even more than the original for maximum scare power, eschewing Austrian economics for a song that may be much more fitting in a horror movie's climax (provided that movie is set in a rave). In fact, every time I listen to this song, I can't help but think of those "horror" arcade games where players have to hold on to metal bars that "shock" them, while a skeleton/Uncle Fester/etc. "increases the voltage." See below.




Powerful wordless vocalizing in between Rothbard's writings only increases the dark feel of the Arabic melody. The high, Psycho-esque, synth notes over the drop create a scene of pure government-induced terror. By the way, this busy, dissonant drop is probably the best that I have ever heard, and it only gets better when the percussion changes up, sending the song into a sort of double time feel.

The more varied and music-driven remix is at times chilling, other times hypnotic, and sometimes even a harsh-yet-satisfying combination of the two. Both of the tracks are great in their own right. If political theory is your thing, you may be more drawn to the original; however, while the original is by no means chill, it sounds like lounge music in comparison to the brutal beat down of the remix.

And that's it. No more hip electro posts for me. Rest assured, the most danceable songs I post from here on out will all be older than I am.

Download Porter Robinson: The State (and SKisM remix)

SKisM: Down with the Kids EP

When I started this blog, I thought it would be a good outlet to share my taste in 80s and 90s alternative and indie, particularly that which was slightly left of "left of the dial." A dash of punk, a hint of shoegaze. The biggest deviation from the broad "rock" heading would be some posts expressing my love for trip-hop. That's the most electronic I'll get on this blog, I thought. I've never been a big electro fan, save for the odd 8-bit stuff, anyway.

As one might guess, I don't have a whole lot of experience with electronic music. My collections of glowsticks and synthetic drug experiences are embarrassingly small, and my knowledge of electronic subgenre taxonomy is limited. I do indeed realize that I'm putting myself forward for electro-hipster ridicule by even attempting a post on this subject, but this post (as well as my next planned post [!]) is about "dubstep." I use the quotes because a lot of people can't quite agree on what "dubstep" is exactly.

To be clear, I will be using it to define the musical chainsaw sound that can be found pulsing through pretty much every party you go to. You know, the downtempo whirrs, buzzes, and wub-wub-wubs that you hear before you hear the police sirens answering a noise complaint. (Some dubstep artists have gotten efficient, cutting out the middleman by incorporating the sirens into their songs.)

Anyway, my first journalistic foray into this strange, dimly-lit (by glowsticks) world is to cover the "Down with the Kids" EP by London-based artist SKisM, a five-track aural explosion. This album, which perhaps leans a bit more towards filthy IDM music than most, is often thoughtful and generally remains fresh, even amongst a genre built on a specific sound where each song sounds remarkably similar to the last. Well, to me, anyway.

The gem of this EP is easily the first track, "Rave Review," the title being simultaneously ironic and a play on words. The song samples large chunks from a spoken word piece by Henry Rollins (easily found on YouTube), in which the hardcore punk legend releases an intense diatribe on the moronic simplicity of bad rave music. (Get it now?) While certainly ambitious (turning a Henry Rollins rant about rave music into a rave anthem?), the execution is brilliant. Even if you don't like this kind of music, this song is definitely worth a listen, if only for a bit of a laugh at the genius that unfolds throughout the song, as the music builds on each section of the rant. Hardcore punk and electro fans alike should be able to appreciate this song for that very reason.

The rest of the album perhaps isn't quite as inventive, but it holds its own. If you're a fan of dubstep that is looking for something a bit more intelligent than those boneheaded party anthems by Skrillex and the like, there's a good chance you'll enjoy this EP. And even if you are just looking for some good drops; don't worry, the wub-wub-buzz-shoomps are all here. Like I said, I don't know much about dubstep, nor do I generally care for it at all, but I do know that this EP contains most of the handful of dubstep songs that I can actually tolerate.

Tune in next time for the "dubstep" song (and its remix) that floored me and inspired my newfound ... respect ... for the genre.

Track Listing:

1. Rave Review
2. Elixir
3. Power 
4. Rise Of The Idiots (Remix)
5. Back Off (Remix)