Showing posts with label Allmusic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Allmusic. Show all posts

Saturday, December 14, 2013

The Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium


            As a lover of music, I am constantly recommended new material by my friends and peers. I do my best to experience these suggestions, but it sometimes takes me years to finally give it a listen, even if the particular act I’m being recommended is universally acclaimed by those whose opinions I hold dear. For years, I had heard the name The Mars Volta spoken with reverence and awe, but I had never allowed myself to delve into their catalogue, until a few good friends urged me to pick up their first record, De-Loused in the Comatorium. And when this record finally did make its way into my hands, I found myself immersed in a completely novel, completely indescribable world of music that I have since come to revere.
            My fresh fascination with De-Loused, and thus The Mars Volta, rises from the fact that I have truthfully never heard anything like this before. The myriad of sonic pulses on this record make it transcend the very idea of genre. Omar Rodriguez-Lopez’s guitar work ranges from high-voltage punk thrashing to deft solos reminiscent of Led Zeppelin to salsa-injected finger-picking, and being the main composer on the record, the rest of the band is truly tailored to fit into his intense compositions. Ikey Owens’ keys dominates any treble space left untouched by Rodriguez-Lopez, while Flea absolutely tears apart his fretboard on the bass, laying runs and rhythms that perfectly meld with the monster drumming of Jon Theodore. Rounding out this chaos of intense musicianship is the sonic stylings of Jeremy Ward, whose sound manipulation and effects loops allow for the vibrations of the band’s music to form tangible environments that are downright disturbing. Together, this group conjures a powerful tapestry of sound on a scale to which few have aspired, which Tiny Mix Tapes calls “an earful of flavourful, imaginative and cognitive music.”[1]
            Where the instrumentation sparks a dark universe within ­De-Loused in the Comatorium, Cedric Bixler-Zavala populates it with his emotional and erratic vocals. Cedric approaches his voice as an instrument, with melodies that climb and dip and double-back like the mind of a maniac. He often layers his vocals with heavy effects, or spits small lines that Ward shapes into frightening moments to be incorporated into his sonic nightmare segments.
            Cedric’s lyrical method is just as unique. He apparently houses a very poetic mind, for his word choices are almost exclusively intense and vibrant. His incendiary vocal only enhances their effect, as he wails through lines that raise the hairs on my arm every time, such as with “Spector will lurk / Radar has gathered / Midnight nooses from boxcar cadavers.”[2] He relies heavily on metaphor, which is made only more interesting by the fact that his lyrics unite the tunes of De-Loused into a theme record, reflecting a short story written by Bixler-Zavala of the same name (which you can check out here), loosely based on the life and death of artist Julio Venegas.[3] His style of writing reflects a stream-of-consciousness approach, which, while keeping the original intent of the writing hidden, allows the listener to thoroughly insert his own meaning into each line, and to draw his own emotional connection from the story. Also, by taking the focus away from the specific meanings of the words, Cedric zooms in on the sound of his lyrics, furthering his instrumental contribution to the record. Though some of his phrases can come off exceptionally weak (for example, “transient jet lag ecto mimed bison”)[4] no one can argue that Cedric’s interpretation of his role as vocalist is both progressive and interesting.


            The approach to both composition and performance that this band takes is a complete synthesis of energy and cognition, two very dangerous ingredients to play with in music. Much of the songwriting is built on the idea of tension and release, where the music creates an uncomfortable space before resolving into something considerably more pleasing. While countless acts have used tension before, none have taken it to the level that The Mars Volta does on De-Loused, where the sought-after resolving moment is often denied to the listener for most of the tune. This tension is embedded in the compositions, as the band stutters between tempos, rhythms, and time signatures, refusing to the let the listener find their bearings often until the final moments of the song. For instance, the opening riff of “Inertiatic ESP” is repeated almost randomly throughout, denying the listener a foothold by removing the idea of a downbeat, and making Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s declaration of “I’m lost” all the more poignant.[5] Similarly, in tunes like “Cicatriz ESP” and “Drunkship of Lanterns,” the tunes are built to collapse into the maelstroms of Jeremy Ward, which lull the listener into dark corners of noise before exploding back into the song proper. All of this madness works to reflect the true insanity embodied by the story, for a man’s trip through his own mind must indeed be a dark one. While many might just view such antics as obliviously poor musicianship, after spending a month with this record on repeat, it becomes obvious that these are choices, not accidents. Quite frankly, this band knows what it is doing to you; every note has been sculpted to illicit not only emotions, but impressions of the primal urges of fear and confusion.
            Although some would argue otherwise, one listen makes it apparent that some heavy responsibility falls on Jeremy Ward’s contributions. Omar’s compositions are blatantly technical and emotive, but it is through Ward’s soundscaping that the tunes reach their full height, connecting with the vast continent of images into which Cedric’s short story unfolds. With a tumbling drum sample and buzzing guitar bends, Ward creates an audio photo of the main character’s tumble off of an overpass in “Take the Veil Cerpin Taxt,” while his mixing of dub beats and guitar feedback evolve into empty lullabies into which the listener can sink, before being surprised by the riotous beginning of the next tune. His parts may seem superfluous upon first glance, yet without his influence on the space of the tune, I doubt the story of Cerpin Taxt could be so well translated into music as it is on this record.


            As a collection of music, De-Loused in the Comatorium has a pretty sound hull; however, it has been the subject of much critical scrutiny since its release, and not without reason. Many find that the focus on tension and soundscaping leaves the record as an interesting but ultimately flawed endeavor—Brent DiCrescenzo of Pitchfork remarks that “The Mars Volta mistake sonic piling for complex architecture,” and claims the technical approach “just isn’t fun,”[6] while John Hanson of Sputnik Music condemns Cedric’s lyrics as “utter tripe.”[7] Truthfully, while I do enjoy this band’s innovative audacity, it does sometimes get in the way of the music. Many songs feature a lot of repetition and jam without evolution, curbing my appetite for more rather than whetting it. And while I adore the idea of lyrics operating as sounds as well as words, I find the occasional moments when they devolve into incoherent drivel deprives the song of depth, since it is apparent Cedric can create gorgeous phrases when he applies even a hint of effort.
            Despite this, De-Loused is a largely solid and emphatic record, and a damn good listen, because it is complicated and convoluted, and because, as Cedric puts it, “demands your attention. It demands at least an hour out of your life, and with complete silence and with complete devotion.”[8] This record makes it apparent that what is most important to this act is creative freedom, the ability to try new things without fear of rejection or failure. According to the AllMusic biography, TMV exhibits a “willingness to eschew conventional logic and push themselves into new artistic directions instead of opting for the more marketable sounds,”[9] an impressive move for a fledgling act, and one that sets them apart. With De-Loused­, The Mars Volta adventures to unexplored territories of music, and wrong turns ought to be expected along the journey, because they are just as pivotal as the right ones.
            Regardless of the small hiccups almost guaranteed by pioneering music, with De­-Loused, The Mars Volta usurps the artistic throne and proves they have a right to rule. Their musical prowess is ostensibly vast, and when these musicians do click, they create something amazing. One such tune is “Eriatarka,” an excellent example of all elements coming together in a perfect unison of emotion, energy, and importance. Featuring a high energy chorus juxtaposed against gentle verses laden with lilting melodies, this tune encapsulates the entire dark side of the human mind. Omar utilizes time signature changes between sections to create his tension, taking a step back from tritones and musical arrhythmia in favor of a more tender touch of madness. Cedric’s vocal is simultaneously a caress and a stab, and his lyrics wield poetry without becoming reckless, reflecting the energy the bands exudes in each section. “Eriatarka,” though only a sample of the madness this band is capable of, is a tune that rocks to its very core, and is easily my favorite from this record.


            With ­De-Loused in the Comatorium, The Mars Volta found a way to translate into sound the senses of the body and the impulses of the psyche. Though their tunes might not be readily accessible to the average listener, there is no doubt that this band has accomplished an incredible feat, and with their first full-length no less. As Cedric puts it, the goal of The Mars Volta is to “jab the common man’s ears,” because “if we don’t, we’ll never get to a place where future music exists.”[10] Thus, De-Loused pushes the listener to transcend the very thought of how music can and should be done, to explore the vast universe of sound that until now has only been cursorily observed. Consider this record then as a satellite launched into orbit with a purpose of urging us to hammer the boundaries, to find out what humans are truly capable of when they band together in heart and mind.

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Eriatarka
2) Take the Veil Cerpin Taxt
3) Drunkship of Lanterns

Monday, September 30, 2013

Action Toolbelt - Self-titled


            When I was a kid, I would save every coin and bill that came my way, whether through luck or hard work, to purchase a record. Often I would forego spending for weeks just to buy an album that would turn out as an absolute waste of my money. However, the risk of new music and its potential reward always appealed to me, and when I came upon an offer in my local Hot Topic—$2 for five sampler CD’s—I simply couldn’t say no. $2 was hardly a risk, and the potential payout was too much for me to resist. Although only possibly twenty of the ninety songs I collected that day were worthwhile, one in particular became embedded in my eardrums until I had purchased its parent record, thus birthing my love/hate relationship with Action Toolbelt’s eponymous debut.
            As this band’s first foray into the world of music, I’m willing to give a lot to Action Toolbelt. The energy and enthusiasm in the band’s playing is forefront and consistent, with this trio pounding its way through ten anthems of teenage love and angst. The vocals explode off the record, and each song is loaded with at least one melodic hook that, according to the AllMusic review, gives this record “a subtle charm.”[1] Most of the composition is straightforward power-chord punk with lots of thrashing on all instruments, and for the style of music, it certainly works. However, Action Toolbelt does stray a bit outside the lines of convention: both “At My Expense” and “The Radio Moves Way Too Slow” employ electronic drum beats and keyboards, not heard elsewhere on the record, and also forego repetition by closing both songs with unique outros. These factors make the music of Action Toolbelt endearing, but, unfortunately for them, also draw attention to the weaknesses of the record.
            While this band is attempting interesting things, repeated listening makes it clear that the necessary follow-through isn’t quite there. The keys and electronic drums might be interesting, but they have no business wrapping up a record that hardly features them—95% of Action Toolbelt features solid rhythms and a punk approach, and to close an album with singing organs and an awkward synth-beat lets down the energy the band spent the entire time building. Yet, even the punk sound to which the band lays claim is overall an undeveloped and unexplored one. The energy is high, but it feels as if Action Toolbelt only scratches the surface of their compositions. Don’t get me wrong, I truly love their pop-punk melodies and attitudes, but I find myself wishing this band had taken the time to really flesh out their good ideas. Even the mix seems haphazard, as the guitar leads and melodies are completely covered by everything else, especially the rhythm guitar.
            Although the musical approach is a bit skewed on this record, on a few tunes Action Toolbelt completely gets it right, and no more so than on the song “Alphabetically.” With a dynamic melody, crashing drums, and a worthwhile mix, Action Toolbelt proves that it can pull together to create something more than just acceptable. The song features multiple time signatures, beginning in 5/4 before twisting into a prechorus of 11/4, but all the while pushing a heady and catchy melody that never lets go. The guitar parts in the chorus perfectly balance chaotic distortions and trebly-counterpoints, while the raspy truth in Owen Bigg’s vocals seems to burst forth from his lyrics. The dynamic nature of the song, ranging from almost-whispers to screeching feedback, creates and releases tension in such a way that few since Nirvana have been able to truly accomplish. A distinctly fun song, “Alphabetically” mixes musical chops and catchy charm that set it apart as one of the tightest jams on Action Toolbelt while providing a damn good example of what this band’s pop-sensibility is capable of producing.
            Although unpolished, this record can be said to have some pretty cool things going on musically. Unfortunately, the lyrical writing on this record is not nearly as endearing or catchy as the music is, and the incriminating statement “All songs and lyrics written by Owen Biggs,” plastered at the top of the liner notes, leaves the blame to fall on only one person. While some ideas and images Biggs creates are a little remarkable, the majority of his verse is flat and uninteresting, and a few are almost insulting; take the line in “Sick and Tired” that begins the bridge: “I swear I’ll make sure things won’t ever change/And I know things will never be the same.” He also clings to cliché phrases such as “see this through” and “nothing left to find.” However, it’s not entirely hopeless drivel; Biggs occasionally creates a tight image and follows through with it in the subsequent lines, really solidifying it in the listener’s head. In other instances he provides us with killer phrases that assert originality, like “dead end kiss” and “backing up to change the view.” Furthermore, though the lyrics may hold very little meaning, Biggs’ passionate and proud vocals take the simple lines and make them into anthems, really giving his songs the oomph that they lack on the lyrics sheet.
            No song on this record packs nearly as much of that oomph as the title track, “Action Toolbelt.” Although naming a record after a song that’s named after the band is both silly and audacious, it seems that Action Toolbelt did this for a reason, for there is no better example of how this record or this band sounds than the one named after both of them. Right off the bat, the band rockets into an interesting and catchy chord progression that’s as major-key as every pop song ever to touch the radio. The very first line, “A crowded schoolyard in a deliberate town,” is perhaps the most inventive of the record, and with Bigg’s laid-back melody and John Orestano’s pounding drums, this song demands participation from the listener. Both the lyrics and the music are youthful and vibrant, inviting the image of a swirling crowd of high-schoolers standing before the stage. “Action Toolbelt,” my own introduction to this band, is a tune that simply kicks ass all the way through, while pulling me back to my own high school days and the hijinks that filled them.
            Though for the most part this record is weak for words, the song “Action Toolbelt” brings up an important an interestingly portrayed lyrical theme evident throughout this album: growing up. Many songs reference the movement of time and how quickly change can happen, such as “I Quit” with the line: “Been working here a year and nothing’s changed,” which is soon remanded in the next verse with the introduction of a girl: “She’s been working here three months now and I can’t seem to leave.” Other songs like “Away Home” pick up the image of the changing year: “Now it’s the last call of the night/On the last night of the year/What am I doing here?” Lyrics like this make it apparent that this band is on its journey out of youth and into a new world of adulthood, and it appears their feelings are a mix of excitement, dread, and complete confusion. With songs like “Action Toolbelt,” the speaker reflects on the experience of youth and its many ups-and-downs, remembering without remorse that his past is what has created his future. Such an idea, while a little cliché, is one every listener can relate to, as they too change and grow and leave youth behind for the responsibilities of adulthood.
            Though  Action Toolbelt  might have its shortcomings, its undeniable energy and coursing catchiness make it an an album worth picking up. Even the slow songs are loaded with pep, and the plethora of catchy hooks make it a fun listen, even if each tune doesn't go as deep as you know it can. If you’re looking for music that makes you think, consider passing this one by, but if your search is for music that makes you feel, Action Toolbelt’s debut record is great fun and certainly merits your attention.


Tunes to Check Out:
1) Action Toolbelt
2) Alphabetically
3) By the Way

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Howl


            For a band to find a sound that is truly unique seems almost impossible in our wireless world, though every artist continually strives to create something that no one has ever experienced before. Too often in music, terms like “genre” and “style” become adhesive, sticking to artists and forever defining their journey through their own music. Occasionally, however, a band is able to step away from the genre barrier, allowing them to try their sound in new and exciting ways, and for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, their third LP Howl gives them just such an opportunity.
            The sound of Howl is extremely varied, extending its reach all over the genre spectrum, touching blues, folk, alternative rock, and even country. However, the signature feel of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is present and prevalent no matter where their sound may roam. There is an obvious theme that BRMC brings to this record, unifying every song no matter how far the tone moves from the standard; in an interview with Morphism, Peter Hayes described it as “the battle of trying to find counterculture and trying to revise it, if for nothing more than myself.”[1] The band is obviously a tight unit, opting for simple instrumentation more often than flourish. Robert Levon Been is a true rhythm-section man, holding down the low end with a bass tone that is simultaneously a thump and a growl—however, he is never afraid to let his fingers run, providing interesting fills that are fun without being flashy. The guitar playing of Peter Hayes is just as solid; his alternation of finger-picking and thrashy strumming determine the energy of each song, while his extremely varied guitar tone (he seems to have a different sound for every tune) defines the feel. There is unfortunately a distinct lack of inventive drumming on the record, but Hayes fills that void easily with his intricate and heartfelt vocals that sometimes reach into the very corners of his range. While a big focus on the record seems to be on Peter Hayes’ contribution, the music never loses the impression that this is “a band effort” rather than “a man effort,” as each tune is full of both soul and surprise form this trio.
            Perhaps the biggest surprise on Howl is the heavy influence of gospel, present in both the sound and writing on the record. Besides the overt “Gospel Song,” the album is dripping with gentle keys and choral vocals, from the hidden track “Open Invitation” to the drawling ballad “Promise” (allegedly the only tune to feature Nick Jago, the band’s official drummer).[2] The band further emulates this genre in songs like “Restless Sinner” and “Devil’s Waitin’,” which consistently reference religious images and ideas, further tying the tunes in the church-like atmosphere the music provides. The composition of the songs is also a callback to gospel, as the instrumentation takes the backseat, allowing the focus to fall on the vocal melody, an idea praised by Tim Sendra of AllMusic: “On these songs and elsewhere the vocals are much more a part of the sound now as they are more upfront and impassioned.”[3] The subtle influence of gospel on Black Rebel Motorcycle Club allows this band to take a unique approach to the weathered styles of blues and folk, providing us with a refreshing and original sound.
            One tune that really caught my attention on this record is “Ain’t No Easy Way.” While this song is at its core a rocking tune, that rock has been ground up and effortlessly blended with a healthy helping of country which allows it to really stand out. Besides the obvious steel guitars and growling harmonicas, the overall approach to the tune reminisces of country, with a simple pop-soaked melody and a radiating chorus that really drive the tune. The energy of the song, however, is pulled straight from the heart of rock ‘n’ roll, with pounding drums alternating dynamics that build the perfect amount of tension, leading Amanda Petrusich of Pitchfork to name it a “perfectly convincing throwdown, oddly free of awkward contrivances.”[4] Although this song’s apparent pull towards pop and country originally pushed me away from connecting with it, the fact that “Ain’t No Easy Way” is both ridiculously catchy and well assembled has me looking forward to it every time I spin this record.


            Similar to their musical approach to this record, the lyrical stylings of Peter Hayes and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club are varied and dynamic, helping to add real depth to their songs where their music might lack it. Like the instrumentation, often Hayes’ lyrics are simple, but they rarely if ever rely on gimmicks or clichés. Similar to Allen Ginsberg, whose famous poem lends both the record and the second track a title,[5] Hayes explores phrasing and diction are unique, as he digs deep to find original ways to express himself. In “Howl,” the speaker comes to understand his ultimate fate with the line “Now I know that my eyes must close here;”[6] in “The Line,” the speaker is so certain and observant, as he states that “There is no burden left to bear…I have no conscience to keep clear.”[7] Hayes’ writing is also very image-centric, as he focuses on themes such as religion or light vs. darkness, especially in tunes like “Fault Line” and “Restless Sinner,” where the vocal melodies, and therefore the lyrics, are placed in the spotlight.
            One example in which Peter Hayes’ word choices and phrasing really come together powerfully is “Sympathetic Noose.” Powered by a heady groove that’s almost certainly the strongest on the album, this song is a lyrical playground for Hayes. His phrasing is original and interesting; his speaker’s assertion “I’ve got a feeling in my boots” is one of many unique metaphors lining this song’s lyrics. Hayes also consistently repeats sounds and phrases while morphing the meaning of each line by changing only a word or two, adding a flow to the song that other tunes can’t see to approach. For instance, throughout the song the speaker lists off things that he doesn’t know how to be: “I don’t know how to be careful / I don’t know how to be there for.”[8] With this idea, he changes only a syllable or two with each line, maintaining both rhyme and sound while subtly altering the meaning of each line. With its heavy writing and light-hearted musicianship, “Sympathetic Noose” is the culmination of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s simple forays into the complexity of sound and writing.


            While this record certainly has a lot going for it, it is ultimately a simple record—not a bad thing, but in the case of Howl, not quite a good thing either. Frankly, the band’s simplistic approach to composition leaves me desiring more. The tunes on this album feel underdeveloped, as if Black Rebel Motorcycle Club has only explored the topmost layer of their music. The straightforward instrumentation is endearing, yet, with the exception of Robert Levon Been’s excursions on the bass, the record is devoid of improvisation or melodic playing. What is present on Howl shows the potential of this group of musicians, yet the finished product falls short of that potential, not quite quenching my sonic thirst as thoroughly as I think it could.
            Howl provides the listener with a buffet of sounds, proving that varying approaches to both composition and presentation in music can allow an artist to reach new depths in creation. However, the end product seems undershot for such a musical endeavor, as the band’s simplistic approach leaves a few holes to be filled. However, to even consider such an undertaking proves that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is a band with gall, who isn’t afraid to approach the barriers placed about them by fans and critics and break them down on their own.  

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Sympathetic Noose
2) Weight of the World
3) Shuffle Your Feet