Snowing - Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit

Snowing –Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit

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Self- admittedly, it took me a few listens to fully appreciate the brilliance of this EP (My Itunes count being somewhere in the 30s upon starting this review). Having been enamored with the promise ring flavored pop sensibility of former band, Street Smart Cyclist, I hoped that Snowing would pick up where SSC left off. While I would place both bands within the spectrum of 90’s emo revival, I would adamantly argue that they inhabit separate ends of this spectrum; SSC fitting somewhere in between Nothing Feels Good and Four Minute Mile and Snowing in between End of the Ring Wars and Where You Are and Where You Want to be (If you think this is a Taking Back Sunday album, promptly stop reading this review).

In Fuck Your Emotional Bullshi t, Snowing channels a fantastic urgency—guitars that are simultaneously jaunty and crushing, mathy drum tempos, and wailing vocals coalesce into a flood of emotion that would overtake Noah’s ark. Lyrically, Snowing is among the best; emotional without being whiny, powerful without being melodramatic. There is a biting honesty in these songs, a confessional candor that seems especially remarkable in today’s world of contrived sentiment and cryptic mumblings. In “Kirk Cameron Crowe” the singer, John Galm, sputters, “I only wish you were staring at me when I roll over because I can't sleep at night, or I'm smiling because there's snow falling outside, or when the breaks lock and we're clearly gonna die. I'm gonna grab your arm and scream, "I love you!.”

The EP opens with “Sam Rudich” a perfect opener to showcase Snowing’s angular dexterity, complete with noodly guitars and Galm’s strident voice, growling out the lines, “I feel nothing like my father. He's been sleeping underground. Don't wait around. There's nothing there at all.” Track 2, “Important Things (Spector Magic),” carries on the tap-your-feet-pump-your-fist tempo of the EP, while lyrics spell out post-college ennui, part discontent-part disillusionment.

The next song, “Pump Fake” is easily my favorite song on an EP full of really good songs. “Pump Fake” slows down the blistering pace of the EP in favor of twinkling guitars which swell up and pour out as the song progresses, finally concluding with a vocal indictment of a love gone sour, “And what do you think I would do after you left? Would I stay sober? I think it'd be much worse. I'd cut my arms off. No regeneration.”

The two final tracks, “Kirk Cameron Crowe” and “Methuselah Rookie Card” carry on the EP’s frantic energy, complete with an At the Drive-In reference (I'll drive home screaming At the Drive-In. I've been driving this thing for too long) and a slew of sing-alongable lines (I've been living like a sailor, my sea legs are wearing down).

This EP is not only remarkably good but furthermore, I commend Snowing on treading new ground in what has very much a genre of repeated, and sometimes obnoxious, derivation. I hear a lot of bands who are interested in recreating the Midwestern emo sound without adding to the equation, I mean if your band sounds exactly like Cap’n Jazz, well I’d just as soon listen to Cap’n Jazz. Thankfully this is not the case with Snowing or a few choice other Penn-Jersey bands (I also recommend Pirouette, By Surprise, Hightide Hotel, and Everyone Everywhere).

Giving Up - Gthrowing Up (Sophomore Lounge)

Giving Up – Gthrowing Up

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Years ago, I remember reading a quote about the Boston based folk band, Christians and Lions (the quote was about their record More Songs for the Dreamsleepers & the Very Awake). Jack Younger, the band’s producer, said: “[More Songs for the Dreamsleepers] is somehow comfortable, yet unsettling...like a Cadillac someone died in.” The quote stayed with me because one, it was a good simile and I appreciate good similes, and two, because I didn’t think the quote really fit the Christians and Lions sound which can be said to be both powerful and intelligent, amongst other things, but perhaps not unsettling.

Unsettling is a word I don’t throw around too often. Not many things seem unsettling in 2009; punk has been commoditized, metal has outlived its shock value, alternative is mainstream, and rock & roll doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure audiences felt unsettled when Bob Dylan played an electric guitar at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. I’m sure people were unsettled when someone was killed at the Altamont Festival during a Rolling Stones set. But now?

I digress. The reason I’m bringing up the notion of unsettling is because it is the first word that came to my mind upon listening to Giving Up’s full length album Gthrowing Up. The Iowan trio have created a sound that marries lo-fi fuzzy grunge with front porch country, music that is undeniably Western but perhaps more at home in a zombie flick than any movie starring John Wayne. The absurd postmodern panache of the lyrics are sung out and screeched by the boy-girl pairing of Mikie Poland and Jenny Rose, who are never quite in unison. The vocals, charmingly off of kilter, are delivered over distorted guitar and chord organ melodies with tinny drums clanging in the background (Sean Roth played these). The final outcome is yes, unsettling (I’m done using this word, I promise) but furthermore, oddly catchy and sometimes just flat out beautiful.

The album opens with an Intro which my Itunes clocks in at 789 hours, 57 minutes, and 13 seconds (though it only plays for a fraction of a second before flipping to track 2, “Lord and Savior, Sandy Cohen”). “Lord and Savior” feels like it was written in an Indian burial ground; the vocals whine and howl over what sounds to be a rain stick and harmonica paired with the characteristic distorted twang of country guitar.

The next song, “The Potential of Constant Happiness” is a folk-punk flavored triumph, musically reminiscent of the fantastic disbanded plan-it-x band Rosal. Mikie and Jenny sing, “I measure the night by the dirt on my feet. The dirtier they get, the more the blood—the better the night, the fuller the love. The dirt’s piled on thick so the love must be overflowing.”

My favorite song is called “Inlaws? More Like Outlaws,” which features a noisy choral backdrop of whoa’s and ahhhs behind a humming organ and the tap-your-toes-pump-your-fist-and-sing-along vocal lines: “I wanna play with you all day long. Let’s grow our food on the front lawn. When it rains down the factory’s chemicals we get cancer from our tomatoes. When the state says this land aint ours and they take it back, let’s plan a terrorist attack.” Something about the way Mikie enunciates the word tomatoes gets me every time and I find myself singing this song everywhere I go.

The album continues on, waxing poetic on Police Academy One, a haunted lake where Freddy Killed Jason, and “that fucker from Pantera” while the guitars crunch and clear up, sometimes grinding and sometimes spacey, entwining with the chord organ and a few other featured instruments (is that a kid’s piano on “Holes?”) . The end result is impressive; a full length record, available through Sophomore Lounge records, that is both strangely charming and bizarrely satisfying—like sex in the back of a Cadillac that a whole family died in.

Makeout Party - Carried Names

I’ve been meaning to write this review for a long time.

I first heard Carried Names in May, right after the CD release in New Jersey, and over the past two months I can say with confidence that I’ve listened to this EP at least 200 times. I got a good 30 listens just from driving back to Massachusetts from a show in Delaware. For 8 Hours my band mates and I listened to the album on repeat. No one complained or asked to listen to anything else. Carried Names is honestly that good.

I confess that I was probably emotionally predisposed to this album through my friendship with the band (the song “7 Durant” is about my house). Regardless, I feel it’s necessary to point out that while I think that Makeout Party are all great dudes, my appreciation of Carried Names is based on the fact that it’s a near perfect album possessing the emotional depth of End Serenading Mineral, the musical intricacy of American Football, and the melodic grace of mid-career Getup Kids.
Carried Names begins with the mid-tempo “Mid-Twenties Relapse”. Lyrics wax on about post college ennui and the failings of love while the song builds up instrumentally until collapsing into a twinkling guitar outtro where Carmen croons, “We couldn’t float, we were capsized. Can’t say I wasn’t surprised. Everything wasn’t all right.” The song transitions perfectly into the next track “Restore” which showcases Makeout Party’s tight knit sound along with a renewed sense of urgency; the drums and guitars coax each other to drive the song harder and faster.

The next track, “The Worst Fourth of July Ever” may be the best track on a CD full of really good songs. The guitars entwine perfectly, one brightly strumming while another picks the strings longingly. Carmen sings about the difficulty of living on the road while maintaining a life at home; “If I knew that the time would just stop on a dime, then I’d have been sold to stay home. I could sleep on our plans for one more year and wake up to thoughts that this time it was clear.” The song ends with a haunting vocal melody with everyone in the band harmonizing together; it is slightly evocative of Transatlanticism Death Cab but not obviously derivative.

Carried Names continues on with the stripped down “A Year Plus One Month,” a bittersweet ballad about the elusiveness of love and the refuge of religion. Though I generally abhor when bands drop the God bomb, there is something truly beautiful in Carmen’s imagery and delivery of the lines, “Remember sneaking into the church? Remember praying in its pews? It’s been a year plus one month so let’s apologize for our sins.”

The last two songs on the album, “7 Durant” and the title track “Carried Names” are just as remarkable as the previous four songs. “7 Durant” marvels at the wonder of cheap champagne, house parties, and long drives while “Carried Names” is a testament to longing with the song reaching a fist pumping crescendo complete with driving guitars and pleading vocals; powerful without being excessive, emotive without coming across whiny.

I strongly recommend this album to anyone who appreciates mid-90s emo but I feel good recommending Carried Names to anyone who likes music. Makeout Party are tight, inventive, and honest, possessing an emotional depth that feels like a breath of fresh air in a world full of shallow music and oversaturated markets.

The 2nd Annual Mass Recovery Fest- Day 2 : A Report

Day 2 began with Boston’s the Susan Constant. The Susan Constant are refined musicians with a knack for unpretentious power-pop/rock. They are some of the nicest guys I’ve met in the music industry who just genuinely enjoy playing music.

Zanois, the brainchild of Zane McDaniels played next. After some initial technical difficulties they served up a blend of keyboard oriented electro-rock that sounded like a Cake fronted MGMT as conceptualized by high-school prodigy. While we’re on the topic of high-school musical prodigies, How to Catch Shadows, not quite old enough to have a driver’s license, took stage next. HTCS is a one man band, acoustic guitar and vocals with a heavy Ben Gibbard (Death Cab/All-Time Quarterback) songwriting influence.

Free Idea sponsored Flight of the Navigator were up next. Flight of the Navigator, aside from having a brilliant name (go see the movie if you haven’t), are adept at writing catchy neo-emo songs in the vein of Taking Back Sunday.

Battleships, playing one night only as a 3 piece (normally there are 5 members) stormed the floor next. The local hardcore heroes captivated everyone in the audience with anyone who knew the words yelling along. Another local favorite, Sans Heroic (who have a CD release show @ Andrew Hall on May 15th) played right afterward. Sans Heroic have mastered entwining soaring melodies with driving alternative/rock instrumentation and it was noticeably appreciated by everyone in the audience.

After Sans Heroic had retired for the evening, swirling lights began to take shape on the opposite wall and I knew the Scopes Trial was up next. The Scopes Trial is a small army of a band with songs about how Alexander Hamilton sucks, Jon Bon Jovi killing vampires, and a port-a-potty space ship that explodes in outer space. They are equal parts entertaining, talented, and absurd, I don’t think anyone was able to look on without thinking, “What the fuck is this?” and then convincing themselves, “Whatever it is, it rules.”

From Sky to Sea, armed with a light show and projector, began their ambient set. FStS’s intricate instrumentation produced a sound that is both atmospheric and haunting and no one said a word, just listened with mouths open, as they unveiled each song.

It was nearly 10PM at this point and I was worried that everyone would head home soon, but almost everyone stayed to see Quixote and Sincerely, the Management rock the rest of the night away. Quixote played first, introducing their folk-twinged indie-rock sound to a foot-stomping audience. Then Sincerely, the Management, glowing under the black lights, got everyone to move their feet with their dancey sing-a-long-invoking sound. It was a perfect way to end the Second Annual Mass Recovery Fest.

Without the help of these people Mass Recovery Fest would have not been possible or at least not nearly as sweet: All of the bands that played, Andrew Mello, Nick Stockwell, Tim Jobin, Vanessa Roberto (thanks for taking pictures), Justin Demers, Kevin Padden, Chris Londa, Mike Ellison, Rob Wilcox, Dan Saraceni, Shannon & Erin, and anyone who danced and enjoyed themselves. Stay tuned for more Mass Recovery + Andrew Hall shows.

4/11 @ The Coalmine (7 Durant Street, Lowell, MA). Coalmine Canary + State Champion + Mansions.
4/24 @ The 119 Gallery (119 Chelmsford Street, Lowell, MA). Math the Band + Coalmine Canary + Factors of Four + the Brave Little Abacus + the Sinbusters.
4/25 @ The Coalmine (7 Durant Street, Lowell, MA). Quixote + Factors of Four + Packrat.
5/15 @ Andrew Hall (39 Main Street, Lunenburg, MA). Sans Heroic (CD Release Show) + the Sharpest + Always the Underdog.

The 2nd Annual Mass Recovery Fest- Day 1 : A Report

The Second Annual Mass Recovery Fest- Day 1: A Report

Last year I put together a free compilation with a bunch of local/touring bands that I really wanted other people to hear. Mass Recovery Fest was something of a two-night release show featuring all the bands (or rather most of the bands) on the compilation. I generally dislike shows that feature an ungodly amount of bands, but armed with 2 PA systems and a hall big enough to create two “stages” the whole thing went smoothly and everyone I talked to had a lot of fun.

This year, I was a little less ambitious and decided against doing another compilation but wanted to put together another two-night celebration, a concert featuring everyone from the area and a handful of bands from out of state.

The week before Mass Recovery Fest, this year, I got a shock in the form of a message from the Scopes Trial’s Chris Londa, who informed me that Day 2 of the fest was actually the same night as the Lunenburg High track team banquet, which was also set to go down at Andrew Hall. After a week of panic and maneuvering, the track team relocated their banquet elsewhere, so if you are responsible for this move, thank you.

Saturday, Day 1, I got to Andrew Hall early to begin the arduous task of setting up for the show. Luckily, Tim Jobin of Sans Heroic helped me set up the second PA and a bunch of friends helped with setting up tables and all that jazz.

The night began with a set from Andrew Mello, my roommate/bandmate/friend. I am familiar with all of Andrew’s songs as a consequence of living across the hall from him but even those who weren’t seemed to enjoy his Daniel Johnston influenced indie-pop clap-along melodies. After a half an hour, Andrew switched to bass and was joined by Streight Angular, Al Polk’s quirky songwriting vehicle which started the dance party while it was still light outside.

Thunder Asunder, who first played Andrew Hall more than four years ago now, christened the other side of the hall with synth and drums. Thunder Asunder has, over the years, gotten smaller in terms of band members but have only gotten better in terms of not-quite-dance avant-garde songwriting.

The Bynars brought the action back to the other side of the hall and played a set of their signature synth-laced upbeat power-pop songs. The Bynars are both tight and inventive, lacing their love of Next Generation era Star Trek with brilliant songs that are both catchy and tight.

At this point in the night, Roebus One from New Jersey, was supposed to become the first person to ever play a hip-hop set at Andrew Hall, but he didn’t show up. I found out why the next day, when he called me confused and hung-over from his Aunt’s house in Staten Island where he woke up with bruised knuckles and the biting feeling that he got in a fistfight with his dad while black out drunk.

So instead, my band Coalmine Canary played. It was our first time playing an “unplugged” set in such a big venue. But everyone came real close and stayed quiet except for a couple of impressive sing-alongs where the crowd sang louder than I did.

Lima Research Society played next. The other side of the hall was decked out in black lights, illuminating everyone’s teeth a neon purple color. Lima Research was fantastic, they had everyone in the hall dancing, and rarely do I see such an elaborate stage show paired with excellent musicianship. It was at this time I went out to my car and realized that my trunk door was no longer fully attached to my van. I tried in vain for a few minutes to fix it but went inside when I heard Horny Vampyre’s fuzzy synth-dance sound fire up in the PA speakers.

I wrote a pretty extensive review of Horny Vampyre’s debut 10” and this was actually my first time seeing them live. They invited everyone to stand as close as possible to them, erasing the performer/audience divide. Everyone who knew the songs danced and chanted, stomping on a stage light in the process and sending broken glass all over the floor which didn’t deter anyone from dancing. I found a broom and dustpan in between songs and they played an electro-cover of Jawbreaker’s “Boxcar” which prompted my good friend Rob Wilcox to walk through the crowd and stare in awe.

Math the Band headlined the show and had everyone on their feet and dancing. The ceaseless energy of both Kevin and Justin translates perfectly through their songs and prompted everyone to keep singing, stomping, and clapping the entirety of their set. At some point, Mike Ellison grabbed me and lifted me up and, to my surprise, no one dropped me and I made my way through the crowd. It was the first time I, or anyone I can think of for that matter, managed to crowd surf at an Andrew Hall show. Math the Band stopped playing but the audience demanded an encore which they willingly obliged with a cover of Andrew W.K.’s “She is Beautiful.”

I went to thank everyone for coming out and someone started chanting, “Speech! Speech! Speech!” which caught on pretty quickly. I jokingly began, “I have a dream…and Mike Ellison was in it…” and continued with, “but seriously, this whole night was amazing. I’ve been to so many shows where people stand cross-armed and aren’t interested in what is going on musically but you guys danced and that is an amazing, albeit rare, thing. Thank you to everyone who came out tonight, I hope to see some of you tomorrow.” I’m paraphrasing of course, I was probably even less eloquent in person.

Andrew and I cleaned up the hall and several people attempted to help me fix my trunk door which I eventually just bungeed shut.

I’ll post about the Day 2 shenanigans tomorrow evening.

If I forgot to mention you in the Day 1 report, look for your name tomorrow.

Factors of Four- Whoa!!!

It is sometimes difficult to qualitatively describe one’s experience in listening to music. I’m reminded of a cereal commercial where adults ask a group of children why they like Apple Jacks when it doesn’t taste like apple, and the kids kind of shrug and say something like “we just do.” I’ve been listening to this Factors of Four’s Whoa!!! over the past several weeks, essentially since they gave me the CD in January, and while I can say definitively that I like it, a lot even, until now I haven’t been able to defend my position other than to say, “I just do.”

I met Factors of Four when my band played with them in a basement, amorously referred to the Crack House, in Honey Brook, PA. They started playing a blend of up-tempo power-pop garage rock and everyone in the room started to dance. Two songs in I found myself crowd surfing, after my band mates hoisted me up, and much to my surprise everyone held me up and I made my way across the room. This is when I became really impressed with Factors of Four because while I’d like to consider myself a basement show connoisseur, rarely does any band energize the room in that manner to where you can actually jump on people and have them not be mad.

Right. I digress. On to the review.

Whoa!!! begins triumphantly with boy/girl vocals stretching the word “whoa” into a 5-syllable melody. Bright guitars strum through the song while the lead singer, Naomi, introduces her unconventionally beautiful voice, slightly off of kilter, resembling a young Caithlin De Marrais of Rainer Maria mixed with some deeper tones of Fionna Apple. The dual vocals return at the end of the song with the suggestion, “Go ahead boy (girl), go ahead get down,” and then a chorus of voices chime in with a few more ‘whoa’s’ (I have no idea how to effectively use quotations marks here.)

The album has a garage rock feel without being classifiably lo-fi. You can tell the recording was done in a basement, actually the Crack House basement by Pirouette’s Scotty Leitch, but rather than hurt the recording it helps accentuate the full sound. If you’re listening to it for the first time it possesses all the rawness of a well recorded live show with my only critique being that the guitars are mixed a little loud at points which can overshadow the vocals.

Whoa!!! has six tracks, with all of them being impressive and a few being exceptional. Track 3, “Happy Hour”, shines both musically and vocally, Tim’s guitar picks through the intro while the lyrics contemplate life’s little obstacles and obscurities, “Then on a slippery road it is easy to fall and the road is so big and the snow so tall.”

The song, “12th Street” is another exemplary track, where Naomi harps, “I am waiting for a change of skin” and observes that “moving on is such a chore,” while the guitars palm mute through the verses and strum lazily through the chorus. “12th Street” as well as most of these tracks on Whoa!!! are linear in their composition but catchy as hell. If FoF aren’t exactly groundbreaking they’ve certainly refined a sound that is both inviting and memorable.
Ultimately, Whoa!!! is an impressive debut that introduces Factors of Four as a band fully capable of writing clever garage-tinged pop songs. These songs present a double consciousness in FoF’s desire to play upbeat and catchy songs and their desire to occasionally rock the fuck out. Listen to this record if you can appreciate the pop sensibility of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs but want the garage aesthetic of You’re Living All Over Me era Dinosaur Jr.

Hopefully, I’ll go back to one review every week, February was a weak month in terms of content.

Horny Vampire 10"

The problem with dance music (electro-pop and the like), for me at least, is that by in large it requires a suspension of intelligent thought in exchange for catchy hooks and dancey beats. Some artists have opted to go a more psychedelic route, MGMT comes to mind, but this feels like cop out to me; ignoring the central issues facing the generation they write songs for. Yet a little band from Dover, NH, Horny Vampyre (yes it’s a ridiculous name) have created a record that is every bit as brilliant as it is pertinent. Their self-titled debut is a dancey concoction of skuzzy electro punk with lyrics that will resound with anyone struggling to get by, both in economic and existential terms, and those who refuse to get down and grow up. Though this band, as well as their label, Hidden Apparatus, seemingly appeared out of nowhere, this is quite honestly the best record I have heard in the better part of a year.

The album begins with the song, “Foreign Home”, which immediately introduces the synth-clap-and-tap electro elements of Horny Vampyre’s music; a mixture of 8-bit Nintendo MIDI, 1980’s Devo, and Atom and His Package-esque synth-lines. The group vocals that define this album come in a minute or so later (there are at least 2 vocal tracks being occupied during every track) with the lines, “And when she goes to her foreign home by the deep boring sea/ she’ll drink cheap wine trying hard to think of me/ and I’ll still be here running this business straight into the ground…” The “here” refers to the dead end town the album’s narrator is perpetually stuck in, despair painted as a landscaped suburbia.

The album pops and beeps into the next two songs, “High Court” and “Rent Money”. The first is an indictment of humankind as being “a miserable mess of secrets/man is a miserable mess of lies,” as well as a personal confession, “And lately I’ve been having trouble looking you in the eye.” “Rent Money” outlines the inequity of low wages vs. the high cost of living and the desire to revert back to adolescence where this problem had not yet presented itself. Mike and Jer (this is all they have listed under band members) both proclaim, “My entire life is split/ between wanting to work here/ and wanting to quit,” and furthermore, “I don’t know about you but I gotta go back to where we lived when we were kids/ to where I first saw you when your clothes didn’t fit.”

Side A ends with, “Think Back”, which expands on the theme of growing up in uncertain times and the inability to really do much about it except look to friends with “big hearts” and “stricken faces” for solace. If Side A functioned as a means to identify the problems facing this generation, Side B is a contentious attack against these problems in the form of a unified front against menial life.

“Drink Deep”, the first track on Side B, is arguably the best song on the album. The beats and synth lines are intoxicating, it is literally impossible to stay sitting down when this song comes on. Then the vocals come in, triumphantly chanting, “drink deep from this goblet of fuck it all/ I wanna remember but I already forgot it all.” You will most likely be first pumping and yelling, “when he saw me smoking he said smoke up smoke up/ when he saw me drinking he said drink up drink up.” In my mind this song challenges Andrew W.K’s “Party Hard” as the reigning champ of best song to party up to.

The next song two songs, “Friendship” and “Our Lungs” are nearly as mind-blowing as the previous. The first of the two declares, “we’re gonna tear this fucking building down,” while the latter worries about growing up and things getting worse, “I’m afraid that all my friends will someday still be working shitty jobs/ that they’re too afraid to quit.”

“Big Life” counters the despair in “Our Lungs” with lyrics about growing up but never losing the drive and ardor of youth, they sing, “When I grow up I wanna burn money do drugs/ never half-ass when it comes to giving hugs.” Maybe it is futile to resist change, in all of its various forms, but this song gives me hope that, while capitalism will continue to exploit far into the future, we may take refuge in both friendship and music.

The record ends in brilliant fashion with the song, “Wet Backyard,” which sums up the major themes of the album in the line, “What’s good for my heart isn’t good for my health”. In just nine songs Horny Vampyre has outlined the grievances of an entire generation and set them to danceable electro-synth beats.

This record is at worst just impressive and at best brilliant, the fact that this 10” is a debut is mind-blowing. My only critiques seem to counter themselves; the vocals at times are not dynamic enough but are always perfect for group sing-alongs and the synth lines can get repetitive but are so good that is seems to be worth the repetition. If you don’t have a record player, it’s worth buying one just to play this record.