Welcome to another edition of CD Impressions, the bi-weekly feature at JPP that allows the music writers to offer brief opinions and critiques on recent albums. On the plate this fortnight are reviews for new records from post-hardcore legend Thrice, veteran guitar rockers Built to Spill, the moody and oblique Italian trio Father Murphy, and noise pop provocateurs No Age.
…And He Told Us to Turn to the Sun Artist: Father Murphy Label: Aagoo Release Date: 06/08/09 7 out of 10
If “Walking on Sunshine” is one of your favorite songs, Father Murphy might not put a little sunny skip in your step. An Italian trio seemingly equally inspired by Bad Seeds records as doomful cathedral organ and Gregorian chant, they eschew almost any semblance of pop melody in favor of slow, pounding rhythms to break up the foreboding quiet. They know what they are (chirped/grunted on “At That Time I Guess We Misunderstood”: “Are we evil?/We are evil!”), and we know what they’re not (poised to appear on the latest infomercial for some “Songs of Faith” CD compilation), but it’s hard to know where these enigmatic three are going. From the opening notes of leadoff “We Were Colonists,” you’d swear you were in for a gritty rock n’ roll treat with its drum pop, clipped chords and Freddie Murphy’s strangled vocals, but the arrangement unravels into bursting knots of clatter covering up the dry, droning wail. The dirges sprawl out from there, either pumped out or cut up by a gothic keyboard and impelled by singing either yelping or muted without sense—were they possessed by some unholy terror during the recording sessions?
Busier than they initially seem, these songs are made out of the simplest elements imaginable—steady guitar strums, tap-clap percussion, keys that chirp lonely or bleed in a cold bath—but as mood makers, there’s never any doubt that what you’re hearing is profoundly upsetting. Their propensity for fragmentation is also noteworthy, breaking up the two-minute track “So Now You Have to Choose Between My Two (Black) Lungs” into separate (black) halves, though the peculiar percussion steeped in faux-amateurish aftershocks alleviate the dread. And the ten-minute closer rambles menacingly through at least four different song ideas—I guess you don’t need to be compositionally claustrophobic to make the listener really uneasy. Not a fun listen, of course, but worth at least one run through to better determine your tolerance. (Matt Medlock)
Beggars Artist: Thrice Label: Vagrant Release Date: 15/09/09 8 out of 10
While Thrice’s expansive four part Alchemy Index series seemingly saw the California quartet spread themselves a bit too thin, the band have come back to their bread and butter on their 5th full length album, Beggars. On Alchemy, Thrice was given the chance to try on a multitude of sounds while attempting to put the four classic elements into musical form; Beggars on the other hand, offers what long time fans of the band have come to expect, hard hitting, yet lush and thought provoking rock music. At first glance Beggars may seem like the first Thrice album without any forward progression within the songwriting. From album to album, the band has gotten more experimental and more daring with their sound. Yet Beggars seems to emit a sound that we’ve already heard before. The album is a solid effort for sure, but after the sheer innovation of their 2005 landmark Vheissu, I just kind of expected more from Thrice on their proper follow up. I’m glad I continued to spin Beggars for a few weeks before I got around to writing up a review, though. The depth of Thrice’s new album is something I overlooked at first. While my initial response was a slightly disappointed “good but not great” mentality, I soon found myself wanting to constantly go back to Beggars. Tracks like the opening song “All the World Is Mad” and the mid-tempo “In Exile,” not only got stuck in my head for their infectious melodies but also for their intriguing lyrics. For the most part, Thrice is pretty far removed from their hardcore origins, but the band continues to pay homage to their roots while crafting fantastic hard rocking songs that lean more into a modern alternative, sometimes Americana based sound. Frontman Dustin Kensrue demands attention with his emotive vocals that saturate each song on the album. Though it doesn’t stand out as being quite as innovative as some of Thrice’s best work, Beggars is no doubt a solid effort from a constantly evolving and perpetually impressive band. (Tyler Barlass)
There Is No Enemy Artist: Built to Spill Label: Warner Bros. Release Date: 06/10/09 7 out of 10
Is “being dependable” the roughest blow a veteran band can brunt? I suspect some of them would rather release an infamously derided bomb than to quietly roll out solid but predictable album after album; you know, for the attention. As for the nearly twenty year-old Built to Spill, yes, we know all the tricks by now, but they haven’t turned stale yet. Any disc that can give you a charging, almost punk-ish rocker like “Pat” and follow it up with a straggling dirge-pop guitar workout like “Done” knows a thing about variety, but there’s still nothing new or unexpected here. There Is No Enemy isn’t much better or worse than their last two LPs, but since the ratio of great to merely good was at an almost even line on all, that’s a fairly modest recommendation. The dense and reverb-soaked opener “Aisle 13” proves again how effective Doug Martsch can be when he keeps things compressed, which would have been helpful advice since none of the six minute-plus tracks on here can compete with the band’s best epics of the past (the aptly-named “Good Ol’ Boredom” practically plods). But Built to Spill haven’t shuffled off all of their classic pop sensibilities, nor their fondness for stirring guitar rock—the mellow slide guitar on “Hindsight” is lovely. Another highlight, “Oh Yeah,” is almost space rock in its size and dynamic, and the cooing backups on “Life’s a Dream” turn an obvious hook into a delightful one. Even on “Things Fall Apart,” one of those “dreaded” long tracks, they get most of the way there on a frail, tender melody (but not even a subtle trumpet appearance late in the game can keep it from feeling a little flabby). But with a renewed urgency and another handful of knockout tunes, the band overcomes the record’s slow spots to deliver another unassumingly dependable full-length. Damn me for my cruelty. (Matt Medlock)
Losing Feeling Artist: No Age Label: Sub Pop Release Date: 06/10/09 8 out of 10
EPs are old hat for No Age by now, having released almost a half dozen in less than a year’s time back in ’07. Since their full-lengths barely eclipse the half-hour mark, instead of serving as placeholders or beefed up dual singles in between long players, they’re more like proper discs cut short—slap two of ‘em together and you’re home. Their latest, Losing Feeling, is as consistently engaging as Nouns, one of my favorite albums of 2008. At their best when they tempered their noisy pop storms with a little momentum and drive, the bookend tracks are the instant winners. The titular opener plods through the swamp at first, but is bewildered by loops so naturalistic you practically get dizzy; by the final minute, it ratchets into a cavalry charge that leaves you breathless. On the other end, “You’re a Target” is the closest they come to the deafening roar they’re most (in)famous for—with the screech modulated right into melodic riff, the impenetrable wall glistens prettily even as you’re overwhelmed by sheer force and volume. In between, “Genie” is a (gasp) lovely little ballad that gradually builds without becoming aggressive, and contains a wiggy hook that will leave you grinning. “Aim at the Airport” is the “B-side” of the quartet, which is to say that it’s an instrumental built entirely out of fuzzy guitar and watery keyboard effects—who knew you could relax to this band? Maybe some people will de-value Losing Feeling since it seems so effortless and only lasts about fourteen minutes, but just because its brevity will keep it from the wider attention a full-length would garner doesn’t mean it’s not worth picking up. Any collection that doesn’t disappoint after Nouns is something special. (Matt Medlock)
