Slipping Out Them January Blues
e’re not saying we’re cooler than you are, but we here at Stylus, we likes the very newest music. In fact, there’s probably a game of in-staff one-upsmanship going on right now at a pub near you. Look into it; they’ll be the ones with scarves far cleaner than their faces. But we realize that we can’t share a pint with everyone, every week, and that we should really take these discussions to a wider forum. So we’ve begun our newest column here at Stylus, The Agenda. Each week on Monday, you can count on us to tell about all our new faves—our writers will moan about anything even remotely related to music that has them all lathered and ripe (shows, singles, EPs, MySpace-finds, clubs, obscure website-sold full-lengths, etc.). Feel free to pick and choose and let us know if you think we’ve missed something. Enjoy.
January’s always quiet for new music, but we’ve got a few hints to give, from some Faux-German Oregonians to a gleeful Baltimore four-piece that smacks of Deerhoof, our favorite Albarn-helmed leak of the week and more…
The O.C. may be dead but its music lives on…
This L.A.-based group of old friends has much in common with many slightly off-center mainstream rock favorites of the last decade: think Guster, 311, or Jimmy Eat World. C24c purport a sound that is alternately whip-lashing and soothing, with nice-boy vocals, the occasional raspy howl, the use of ‘surprising’ instruments like the saxophone, and many a lilting rhythm. Their self-released 2006 album, recorded in a studio in L.A., still has twinges of the handmade, but their peaceable and naïve lyrics have a self-awareness about them that belies youth and inexperience.
Indeed, it’s quite clear from tracks like “Never Hoped for Bad” that the band members know each other well, which helps the music. This particular composition is seamlessly orchestrated, and has a distinctly professional and bar-ready sound, with a pinch of reverb, a reggae inspired one-two beat, and a tickling guitar riff. OK, so The O.C.’s been cancelled, but there’s hope yet for C24c’s music.
[Liz Colville]
Albarn and the gang turn in an unlikely gem of Mali Music-fed psychedelia…
Turning what originally looked like the worst kind of world music fetishism into soulful flavor-pop with his Mali Music project was unexpected; putting Blur on his shoulders upon the departure of Graham Coxon was unlikely. But Damon Albarn's resume can now legitimately list "Raiser of Dead, January 2006 – Present." The Good, the Bad & the Queen features Albarn leading a merry band of corpses—Paul Simonon on bass, Tony Allen on drums, and the Verve's Simon Tong on guitar—through a set of tight, psychedelic pop diamonds. Albarn's melancholic lilt shows no trace of his bratty past, even as GBQ steers toward the social analysis Albarn perfected with Blur. His coworkers, accredited though they be, are mixed almost to oblivion by producer Danger Mouse—Allen, in particular, sounds tame—but Albarn's aching, melodic aim rarely misses, ensuring the band's self-titled debut is a strangely accented treat.
[Andrew Gaerig]
Deerhoof ain’t got enough goofass power-pop for you? Well…
In his recent writeup, Jess Harvell said the debut album by Baltimore rock band Ponytail—I hesitate to label them any further—reminds him more of specific colors than melodies, which is almost the right idea: they're Technicolor bursts, not just dashes of pink or orange, but wobbly, trebly notes careening off slashing walls of guitar and crash cymbal like full-scale fireworks out of a Roman candle. To say that Ponytail riffs are redolent of Deerhoof or warped pop nuts of yore is fine for easy reference, but forgets that, even at their windiest, they rock harder—and with a cheeky fuck-all glee I haven't seen in any other guitar band. And guitarist Ken Seeno has a really sick guitar face during his blazing solos—he closes his eyes, hell he even sticks his tongue out a little bit.
At Ronny's in Chicago last Wednesday, lead singer Molly Siegel, bite-sized dynamo of this bass-less four-piece, was a commanding stage presence, preening for pictures and hurling herself at an audience still trying to sift through something so loud. Watching her jump up and down in one place is a metaphoric treat for someone trying to label her yelps—can we coin punctuation into the rock vernacular?—but Ponytail, damn kids they are, hardly rest on their laurels, closing their set with oohs and ahs in a just-written ten-minute opus.
[Sam Bloch]
Faux-German Oregonians trade in cross-continental absurdities…
The Oregon group Euromotion will gladly admit that the only worthy aim of pretension is to knock your socks off, or maybe just to make you laugh. Take a listen at euromotiondance.com and you will in all likelihood achieve this higher state of being. Music, my friends, should never be a serious affair, as SNL capably told us this past Saturday night with their segment Deep House Dish. If it is serious, give it an F. Euromotion receive an A for effort and participation.
Guys pretending to be German speaking not very good English are exactly what you need in this world of NSFW Monday mornings. If you can’t get Euromotion to your house, a service they actually offer, perhaps you can just peruse the “aural” section of their website, where about 12 complete tracks are available for listening. With titles like “Don’t Tell Me Your Name” and “Just Dance,” the experience is bound to be nostalgic, ridiculous, and directly over the top with this underproduced, unsigned band. “Would you like to travel back in time to the dinosaurs?”
[Liz Colville]
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By: Stylus Staff Published on: 2007-01-16 Comments (0) |