Category Archives: August 2006

The Raconteurs / Kelly Stolts

July 26 @ Malkin Bowl

I’d been meaning to go to Stanley Park to watch the sun rise for some time
now, and I figured before the Raconteurs was the best time to do it. Knowing full well that I would need my rest for the show ahead, I found a nice shaded park bench and lay down with my blanket and a tossed salad. One ride on the mini-train, two bowls of salad, and countless trips around the park later, it was time to line up.

All throughout the opening act, Kelly Stolts, eager Raconteurs fans sat on the grass, fidgeting with anticipation. I spread out my blanket and lay on my back, batting away a few mosquitoes and scratching at the marks left by the ones that survived. All around me people smoked continuously, chatting loudly about their expectations for the show. All were soon to be blown away, replaced with an amazing brain fuck, an intense blur that involved wailing and screeching guitar solos, howling vocals, steady bass lines and bluesy beats.

As the crowd was starting to get into the western tunes blasting out of the speakers while roadies set up as quickly as they could, out walked little Jack Lawrence (bass), closely followed by Patrick Keeler (drums), Brendan Benson (guitar and vox) and Jack White (guitar and vox). They kicked off their set with “Intimate Secretary,” which was a
seemingly unlikely choice over their much better- known single “Steady as She
Goes.”

I was surprised and delighted to hear it first, and immediately the mood in the park shifted. People began dancing and bobbing their heads to the rhythm, while White, Benson and Lawrence chimed in with the lyrics. It was a great choice for an opener, and White came in with a screaming guitar solo almost immediately, which dropped jaws all over the place. Already you could tell that they had met, and were going to exceed all expectations.
Jack White is a musician known for the emotion he puts forward on stage, and he was definitely not lacking in that department. He wailed and whispered his way through an amazing re-working of Nancy Sinatra’s “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down).” While White hopped around the stage, Lawrence seemed off in his own world. He played steadily and with ease, not disturbing the melodic peace they created up on stage.

From the harmonized vocals in tunes such as “Store Bought Bones,” to the insane and in sync instrumental of “Blue Veins,” The Raconteurs delivered. They have a lot of hype surrounding them, and after witnessing that show, I think they deserve every piece of it.

Lotus Child

July 21 @ The Media Club

Floors rumbled at the Lotus Child Gossip Diet CD release party. The show kicked off the Vancouver piano-based indie band’s West Coast tour with one hot hullabaloo. I mean sauna hot. Dan Mangan opened, setting an intimate mood with the crowd seated cross-legged on the floor, everyone agog at the levels of his guttural sound. Next up, Mother had the house abuzz with their folkie-funky crisp-clean quality. If the crowd wasn’t dancing by that point, Lotus Child got them jumpin’ (literally).

During songs such as “Archaeologists,” a few surprise voices joined in, as members from Hey Ocean! and The Painted Birds jumped on stage. The surprises continued into “Gossip Diet” with vocal group Aliqua joining the euphony, reproducing the CD sound as much as possible. Guitarist and lead singer Zachary Gray struck up a roundelay of “We’re not perfect!” booming through the crowd.

Difficult to peg down style-wise, Gossip Diet ranges from funky numbers like “Archaeologists” to foot-stomping rockout “Lids” to calm but elating “Coelacanth,” withal remaining musically exoteric, and yet distinguishing its dancy demiurgic self in the indie rock genre.

The night was somewhat of a family affair, as Mother’s self-titled CD is also Howard Redekopp produced. Castle Project topped off the night with a din of songs sounding more or less the same. Nonetheless, the sauna cooled at 1am and we were all dog-tired and ready for a shower. You can catch Lotus Child playing their homecoming show August 6th at the Backstage Lounge.

The Pipettes

We Are the Pipettes (Memphis Industries)

Reviews tend to privilege the kind of music that hits you immediately, as opposed to albums that take more time to become beloved. Perhaps this explains pop’s continued domination of Western music. If this is the case, The Pipettes are a pop juggernaut. I haven’t stopped listening to We Are the Pipettes once in the last three days, and it doesn’t look like the troops are going to retreat any time soon. I am completely smitten by the Pipettes’ updated spin on classic girl-group sounds. It’s all there—the bright piano, call-and-response vocals, the slow-building drums that make you want to pull someone close and slow-dance. And it’s all turned up to 11.

Where Camera Obscura and the Concretes merely take hints from girl-group stylings, The Pipettes work completely within the genre, producing pop-perfect melodies and revamping traditional girl-group songwriting. Unlike true-love balladeers The Ronettes and The Shangri-Las, The Pipettes aren’t interested in walking in the sand—they’d rather kick it in your face. In “Your Kisses are Wasted on Me,” the background vocals croon, “He’s so sweeet,” as the lead intones icily, “I’ve had about enough of sweet,” in a tough-sexy Brighton accent. The chorus of “One Night Stand” declares, “I don’t love you, I don’t want you, if you think this is cruel, you should see what my friends do…” The combination of caustic lyrics with traditionally sentimental and vulnerable music is an excellent prank: in the song “Sex,” for example, the lead singer explains to a pretty-but-loquacious boy, “When you get going, you’re really quite a bore” overtop classic oooo-eeeee-ooo-ooo background vocals. On the other hand, more straight-up tracks like “Under a Winter’s Sky” and “Tell me What you Want” prove that even without the jokes, the Pipettes are a force to be reckoned with. We Are the Pipettes is a modern classic for girls who don’t wait for boys to call, and for boys who like their girls more smart-mouthed than lovelorn.

James Figurine

Mistakes, Mistakes, Mistakes, Mistakes, Mistakes (Plug Research) 

While Jimmy Tamborello wasn’t exactly a household name a few years ago, chances are by now even your awkward kid brother knows who this guy is. This is mostly due to him being one half of the Postal Service—he’s the guy who’s not that dude from Death Cab—as well as his highly-regarded album Life is Full of Possibilities under the name Dntel. Tamborello is also 1/3 of the techno-pop group Figurine, which is where we get the James Figurine persona. 

On Mistakes, Tamborello set out to make a very minimal techno record splattered with the odd vocal whisperings, but things didn’t really go according to plan. Instead, his pop tendencies got the better of him, leaving this sounding most like his work in Figurine, with some dancy-techno tracks in between. On the vocal front, Tamborello has thankfully broken his vow of silence and stepped up to the mic, lending some simple words on a few tracks.

Mistakes brings some star power with the vocal talents of old friends Jenny Lewis and Erlend Øye, with the latter featuring on the album’s best track, “All the Way to China.” Like Aphex Twin’s Analord series, this is a record that attempts to improve upon older formulas of electronic music, and Tamborello really does a decent job of it. While this may be no Life is Full of Possibilities, it’s not really that far off either. Mistakes is a tasty morsel to chew on while we await the next releases from Tamborello’s more high-profile projects.        

Greg Graffin

Cold as the Clay  (Anti)

What does an elder statesman of second-wave punk rock do when he wants to take his music down a significantly twangier path? Hook up with a quartet of former punks, who’ve been moving steadily in that very direction. Greg Graffin is best known as the singer of Bad Religion, but he might leave a lot of his fan base scratching their heads on this one. Backed by the Weakerthans (whose own front man left some Propagandhi devotees wondering what happened) and given a helping hand from folk chanteuse Jolie Holland, Cold as the Clay might be seen as a bit of a departure from Graffin’s full time gig. It has been said that country is the original punk rock, but you might be hard pressed to find any SoCal scene devotees who wholeheartedly agree. At the same time, Graffin’s solo outing will also leave country fans feeling a bit lukewarm. 

Cold as the Clay has most of the elements of a great country record. Even though their own music retains much more of a pop bent, the Weakerthans shine, doing for Graffin what The Sadies did for Neko Case. Stephen Carroll often uses his tasteful leads to add a bit of down-home tinge to his band’s own material, but he’s allowed to really let loose here, to fabulous result. Similarly, whenever Jolie Holland makes an appearance, her ragged harmonies play off Graffin’s voice like Emmylou Harris did for Gram Parsons.  And then there’s Graffin’s voice. I was never a huge fan of his singing in Bad Religion’s brand of punk, but he has the perfect set of pipes for this type of venture. Somehow though, all these great parts fail to add up to an overly satisfying whole. When he does hit on a winner (like on the title track), Graffin’s intelligent lyricism shines brighter in this setting than it ever did with his full time outfit. For the most part, however, the songwriting just isn’t up to snuff, and those moments are few and far between. 

“Going country” seems to be the thing to do these days. Rilo Kiley’s leading lady, Jenny Lewis, paid homage to her Nashville influences to great effect earlier this year. Stars’ Amy Millan also seemed right at home on her bluegrass-soaked solo debut. Greg Graffin was on the right track when he assembled the players that joined him on this set of tunes.  At the end of the day, though, no matter how many pickin’ banjos, rich slide guitars, or country chanteuses you layer on a record, it’s only as good the songs themselves. Cold as the Clay had the backing cast to support something truly special; too bad it’s merely competent. 

Opus Dai

Actum Procul (Double Blind Music)

For some reason we just got our copy of last year’s five-song live EP debut of Opus Dai, which is weird, since their new disc is now out. Nonetheless, Actum Procul is a great introduction to this Los Angeles foursome’s prog-rock. Driving beats, serpentine riffs and hooky melodies combine to make an engaging sonic environment that seeps all the way into your brain stem.

For a live disc, the sound quality is suspiciously good, but hey, forty years into the overdub age, who really cares anyhow? I will say that they should have edited out the crowd rapport crap—what sounds and feels really cool in the context of a concert is often rather dumb on disc, and breaks the listener’s absorption. That’s my only quibble, though, so we’ll let it slide.

Opus Dai are already being compared to The Mars Volta, which I find a bit misleading and frankly, I prefer Opus Dai—they’re less tangential and psychedelic, and more straight-ahead, glorious hard rock. Opus Dai are amongst the new breed of proggers—their sound is fresh, and contrary to common prog stereotypes, there were no songs about wizards. Although, with their lyrical talent, they probably could pull it off without sounding 1983.

So, Actum Procul is the yummy appetizer, and I won’t be waiting on our copy of the new disc to arrive by snail mail—I’ll go get it myself.

MSTRKRFT

The Looks (Last Gang) 

MSTRKRFT seemed to come out of nowhere. Sure, Jesse Keeler is fairly well known as the bass slinger in Death from Above 1979, but who saw this coming? The duo (consisting of Keeler and Al-P) first threw themselves into music lovers’ collective consciousness with a remix of Keeler’s other gig. Their retouch of “Little Girl” took Jesse’s proto-metal riffage to a place that was far more rhythmic, while partner-in-crime Sebastian Grainger saw his 4/4 drums replaced with cowbell and compressed high hat.  Then, all of a sudden, MSTRKRFT were everywhere and in demand.  
Jesse and Al’s seemingly magic touch has since graced singles by Annie, Metric, Panthers, Services, Polysics, The Gossip, and most notably, Bloc Party, turning even the most languid single into your favourite DJ’s new best friend. The latter band was fortunate enough to have their sleep-inducing one-off, “Two More Years,” transformed from glorified Silent Alarm b-side status to a positively thrilling dance floor filler. All the attention spawned a wave of hype that threatened to drown MSTRKFRT’s full-length debut, but they manage to keep things above water. 
The first single, “Easy Love,” opens with a keyboard line that’s so smooth it almost slithers out of the speakers. “She’s Good for Business” is all bass pulses and handclaps behind a multi-tracked, female-sung mantra of “I gotta shake it.” If the world were full of hipster dive bars, it would be a sure shot anthem. Opener, “Work on You,” is exactly what the latest Daft Punk album should’ve sounded like. The Looks is littered with similar ventures: songs that will remind of you of other artists, all executed incredibly well. Justice, Simian, and “Chicago House” all come to mind, while slinky bass lines, old-school synths, and plenty of well-worn vocoder are painted all over the disc’s eight tracks. Don’t let the borrowed sounds dissuade you from picking this one up though; they’re taking cues from some impressive forbear’s. Though they aren’t doing anything wholly original, they’re sure goddamn good at playing with the familiar.   
While it’s nothing revolutionary, it’s sure to make you shake your ass, and what more do you want from a dance record? 

Caribou  

Start Breaking My Heart (re-release)  (Leaf) 

Double-disc re-release? Sweet fancy jesus cakes! It’s been ab-out two years since Dan Snaith made the notorious nomenclature switch from Manitoba to Caribou, so it’s high time to pimp the luxuries of a name change and throw a collection of early material to the masses. The disc brings together a handful of EPs anchored with a re-release of Snaith’s first album as Manitoba, 2001’s kaleidoscopic Start Breaking my Heart.
Consider it an aural buffet of Manitoba’s younger years. In addition to the full-length, the compilation contains early EPs like People Eating Fruit (2000), Paul’s Birthday (2001), Give’r (2001), and If Assholes Could Fly this Place Would Be an Airport (2003). Subtle and sparse, the new Start Breaking my Heart collection serves as a reminder of a pared-down Manitoba, anticipating the searing abandon of 2003’s Up in Flames and last year’s jangling Kraut revival, The Milk of Human Kindness.   
The sprawling headiness of “Evan Likes Driving” wraps itself in a twilight curiosity whose composition is less occupied with the sonic tension and release of later works, focused instead on exploring bright spectrums of quiet, textured soundscapes. “Tits & Ass: the Great Canadian Weekend,” hailing from the appropriately-titled Give’r, articulates a fascination with Canadian hoser discourses that continues to creep into Snaith’s music. “Webers,” from the same disc, is a quick wander into hip hop territory that is more thoroughly sounded out in “Leopards” on The Milk of Human Kindness. 
Indeed, the material on Start Breaking my Heart seems to have laid the groundwork for Snaith’s admirable career, and the careful math of his sound is perhaps most apparent in the spaciousness of this compilation. Since releasing his first recordings, Snaith has earned a Ph.D in mathematics from Imperial College in London, England: the Start Breaking my Heart re-release is a collection of some of his most calculated pieces. 

Caribou

Up in Flames (re-release) (Leaf)

When the folks at the Leaf label re-issued Up in Flames, (originally released in 2003 by Dan Snaith’s Manitoba), they did simply that: slapped ‘Caribou’ in place of ‘Manitoba’ on the album’s original cover, not only to satisfy the likes of Handsome Dick Manitoba, but also to provide fans of Caribou access to a significant piece of the artist’s full repertoire.  
Snaith himself promised fans that “At the end of the day, nothing’s going to change other than the name,” and indeed, Up In Flames makes good on this vow. Open your copy of the re-release on iTunes, for instance, and you’ll notice that the artist name may still appear as Manitoba. Will the Gracenotes Database be the site of the next stand-off between Snaith and the Dictators? Time will tell, but until then, the re-release of Up in Flames will enlighten the second wave of Snaith fans (those who got to know him only as Caribou, among whom I count myself) of the musical stepping stones that led him to the sounds of The Milk of Human Kindness.  
What strikes me about Up in Flames as a novice ear of the Caribou soundscape is the lushness of the album’s terrain as it moves fluidly and energetically from psychedelic rock to electronica and hip hop. Through “I’ve Lived on a Dirt Road All my Life” to “Kid You’ll Move Mountains,” the meditation on simple musical motifs transforms the instrumentation of Up in Flames into a form of reflection. The syncretic sounds that populate the album’s environment blur the boundaries of genre with a playful joy that seems to have been undermined by the identity crisis Snaith underwent in its wake. The re-release of Up in Flames will hopefully return to Caribou some of the territory lost between names, and it remains clear that one name or another, the spirit of the Up in Flames persists in spite of itself. 

Kinky

Reina (Nettwerk)

At the forefront (at least as far as the rest of North America has noticed) of the growing Mexican musical revolution, Kinky’s newest disc, Reina, packs a wallop of high-intensity, effervescent sonic joy. The album has them continuing in their Latin/rock/funk groove. After all, if it’s not broke, why mess with it? The tracks on Reina ooze fun dance-pop melodies with tight vocal harmonies, caliente Mexican beats and even some retro (some might say cheesy, but hey, it works!) electronic effects, blended with fist-pumping rock riffs. Usually when a group tries to weave so many threads of influence they end up in no man’s land, but Kinky make it work seamlessly and flow incredibly well.

Reina particularly reminds me of the sort of sound Duran Duran were desperately trying to knock off during their late 80s slump, except that Kinky actually meet and exceed that goal.

All in all, if this disc doesn’t drag your ass onto the dance floor, you’re beyond hope.

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