Saturday, February 23, 2013

Possum Dixon - (Self-Titled)




            On one of my many trips to the local music store, I found a large bin labeled “CDs – 2 for $1,” a bargain I could not pass up. Whilst trudging through the piles of compilation records and overprinted hit CDs, I ended up selecting 6 unfamiliar albums to take home with me, chosen on the merits of the band name alone. One of those choices, a self-titled LP by a band named Possum Dixon (a moniker whose origin ranges from an old car[1] to a wanted criminal[2]) has since become one of my favorite listens.
            With their eponymous debut LP, Possum Dixon offers a very unique sound. Each song has its own character, ranging from rock n’ roll riffs to thrashing punk beats, all presented in an exclusive and explosive style. This uniqueness is given a violent voice in the many moments of absolute chaos peppering the record, where Rob Zabrecky rakes his bass strings or Rob O’Sullivan smashes his keys to pieces. While such noise is normally considered abominable in the music world, Possum Dixon presents mischievous moments of art juxtaposed against the more tame and musician-approved structures of the songs. Such use of chaos and craziness serve to strengthen the impression of their tight musicianship as well as to give a taste of the mania of their live shows.

            A great example of chaos and composition coming together in harmony is the song “In Buildings.” The gentle intro of synth and drums belies the building urgency that Zabrecky relates through his voice. While the band holds a generally steady feel throughout the song, both the vocals and the keys begin to spiral out of control, as Rob O’Sullivan punctuates every beautiful note with a dissonant punch to the keyboard. The song crescendoes as Zabrecky pines for “fifteen minutes on a couch” with the girl who makes him shake. Tension builds until the song collapses finally into a dissonant bass chord, but the beauty and catchiness of the melody and groove are never overshadowed by the underlying bedlam.
            While “In Buildings” exemplifies the good side of insanity in music, at times, this chaotic feel, shooting for the title of “art,” falls far short into the massive valley of “noise.” “Nerves,” the opening track of the album, seems to collapse into an inferno as it nears its end, while “John Struck Lucy” is built on the faulty foundation of an audibly-displeasing piano line. However, the charisma of the songs that Possum Dixon presents is something that cannot be ignored. The lyrics of the album are simple yet graceful, and always tinged with absurdity. Zabrecky’s writing style is overtly sexual in many places, a theme that greatly connects with the urgent insistency of the music. But just as often, we are presented with pure poetry. In the song “John Struck Lucy,” the speaker takes a methodical and extremely understated approach to the subject of abusive relationships, while in “Elevators,” the speaker personifies this form of transportation as a woman.
            The construction of the music on the record is just as controlled, stressing catchy and danceable rhythms. The energetic and pleasing vocal melodies of tunes like “We’re All Happy” or “Watch the Girl Destroy Me” (which peaked at No. 9  on the Modern Rock Tracks Chart[3]) almost guarantee audience participation while complementing the distinct and rocking livelihood the band lays claim to. Zabrecky’s basslines range from gentle walks to pounding beats, all of course punctuated with absolute recklessness, while Celso Chavez’s guitar riffs reminisce of a multitude of styles, including ska and blues; but all the while, the band’s dynamic sound refuses to be lumped into any one genre, though critics and fans certainly might try.[4] The band’s compositions present equal parts beauty and insanity, making it apparent that even behind the madness there is a method at work in the music of Possum Dixon.



            Through their debut, Possum Dixon created a catalog of music that is wholly unique to them. They often deny us many of the common courtesies of a resolving note or a maintenance of rhythm, and barrage our ears with audio hissy fits on their instruments. Yet, their songs uphold such a level of honesty and exuberance that I cannot think of a better 50 cent purchase. One thing is for sure as this record spins: there is never any confusion as to who you are listening to.

Tunes to Check Out:
1) In Buildings
2) Watch the Girl Destroy Me
3) Elevators

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

At the Drive-In - El Gran Orgo



            Many bands have been considered influential in the growth of punk music, but few have had as remarkable of an impact as At the Drive-In. Known for their incredible and energetic live shows, At the Drive-In has come to be considered a seminal piece of punk and hardcore history. Generally, their later records, especially their last full-length, have taken the brunt of the attention, leaving their earlier work to dither in obscurity. However, one record by At the Drive-In that not only deserves attention, but indeed demands it, is their 1997 EP, El Gran Orgo.  
            The twenty minutes of music provided on this EP are explosive and exciting, overflowing with thrashing guitars, crunchy drums, and searing vocal melodies. While the band occasionally worried that their live energy was lost on their recordings, El Gran Orgo easily smashes those doubts with every listen. If anything, this EP provides an enticing preview of ATDI’s live show rather than a watery doppelganger. The record is bristling with youthful havoc and vigor, with all cylinders rapidly approaching critical heat levels. Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, whose first foray as a guitarist is laminated in El Gran Orgo, absolutely tears it up, while Tony Hajjar and Paul Hinojos, the band’s newest members, prove themselves to be a monster rhythm section.[1] The taut and experienced sound At the Drive-In provides on this EP belies the many lineup changes that the band experienced prior to this recording, including the hiatus of founding member Jim Ward.[2] Indeed, some consider it to be the birth of the sound that At the Drive-In soon became well known for.[3]
            While At the Drive-In puts its musical fervor forefront on El Gran Orgo, the band’s musical abilities are never overshadowed by their energy. Their array of songs offers a mix that is equal parts catchiness and dissonance, a balance that works well for the record. Furthermore, the varied sound provided by ATDI prevents them from being pinned in any one genre. “Give It a Name” and “Speechless” spearhead catchy choruses and pop melodies, while “Fahrenheit” and “Picket Fence Cartel” offer themselves up as post-hardcore pieces. This EP is dynamic in that it consistently offers sing-a-long moments adjacent to brutal riffs, making it a heady and exceptional listen.

            The musical aspect of the record’s writing is one that consistently keeps the listener interested. At the Drive-In’s mastery of the loud/quiet dynamic is apparent in El Gran Orgo, as is their tightness as a group. Both “Picket Fence Cartel” and “Fahrenheit” feature time signature changes that are so fluid they are almost invisible. Musical technicalities aside, even the organization and structure of the songs make for an invigorating listen. Each song is peppered with planned hits and syncopations, as well as moments showcasing each member’s playing abilities. Also, the songs’ arrangements, while often relying on a verse-chorus structure, are also alternated and skewed, keeping the music from falling into a disparaging rhythm.
            Musically, El Gran Orgo is as solid as bedrock. In contrast, its lyrics sway from poetic and powerful to flimsy and frail. Many of the songs feature lyrics built off of clichés: “Winter Month Novelty” relies entirely on the images of “biting the hand that feeds” and “biting off more than you can chew,” while the chorus of “Fahrenheit” is constructed on the phrase “if these walls could speak.” While some of these lyrics are apparently if not painfully unoriginal, in other spots, Cedric Bixler-Zavala offers some very powerful verse. The line “Daddy taught well at the end of his belt” in the song “Picket Fence Cartel” is extremely potent in its understated and dark presentation, while “Speechless” offers a melodious yet intense picture of the effects of an abusive relationship. If nothing else, this record shows a young writer whose style is still developing, and whose choices will further refine the way he wields his pen.[4]
            Surprisingly, one of the best writing efforts (and my favorite tune) on El Gran Orgo was originally provided by the rhythm section. “Honest to a Fault,” the shortest song on the record (excluding the amusing “Intermission”) began as a song from Tony and Paul’s pre-ADTI musical efforts.[5] Fast and straightforward, all instruments come together in a punk whirlwind as Cedric screams and shouts from his core. The pop-punk melody of the song demands a driving delivery, and At the Drive-In does not fail to deliver—at times it seems the whole band is singing. The tempo alone immediately suggests a circle pit, seeming so harried and reckless as the band tears through the song. From the opening drum hits to the final screaming proclamation, “Honest to a Fault” provides an incredible illustration of At the Drive-In’s essential vitality, keeping the listener moving and singing as so few songs can do.

            With El Gran Orgo, At the Drive-In makes a point in less than twenty minutes that some bands struggle over a lifetime to approach. Their music bleeds honesty and energy, exuding a manic and meaningful vibe that is seriously infectious. With El Gran Orgo, At the Drive-In shows itself as a band with promise, and anyone who is truly listening will not be disappointed.