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CITIZINE REVIEWS
Steven Ivy Reviews
A V2 Records fanatic looks
at the label's latest batch of albums by Blood
Brothers, Burning Brides, Dogs Die In Hot Cars, Grandaddy, Mercury
Rev, Nada Surf, and Stereophonics.
Plus: From First To Last,
The Plot To Blow Up The Eiffel Tower.
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Blood Brothers
Crimes
(V2, 2004)
The sound of The Blood Brothers is ultimately
difficult to explain. Think of it as a pizza: hardcore is the crust,
post-punk is the tomato sauce, emo is the cheese (ha ha) and little
slices of glam rock represent the toppings. Their music has always
been utterly chaotic. At the center of all the madness, front men
Johnny Whitney and Jordan Billie consistently spit venom in every
direction, and this uniquely exciting vocal catfight is the key
ingredient that gives The Blood Brothers their haunting and alarming
edge.
The Brothers have begun to embrace the idea of
appropriately milking their best sound creations, instead of attempting
to squeeze an uncomfortable number of riffs into one song. The result
is a more powerful yet accessible collection of songs. This time
out, piano and synth are more heavily incorporated, and help complement
the dark, yet playful, atmosphere of certain tracks. The Blood Brothers
have created their own frighteningly unique voice in the midst of
an unattractively aging hardcore scene, and Crimes is the
band's most focused album to date.
Dogs Die In Hot Cars
Please Describe Yourself
(V2, 2005)
Dogs Die In Hot Cars have more than just
an amusing name. They also have an undeniable knack for churning
out incredibly catchy, '80s influenced pop tunes. Think of early
Elvis Costello, XTC and a bit of Dexy's Midnight Runners. If any
of these names appear in your record collection, Please Describe
Yourself will be an album that you'll at least enjoy, if not
adore.
This is not necessarily a perfect album by any means,
but it definitely makes me long for the days when pop albums were
thin on filler and heavy on melody and charm. Dogs Die In Hot Cars
maintain a tongue-in-cheek pop sensibility that is difficult to
deny, and definitely keep their Scottish wit on full display for
the duration of Please Describe Yourself. Dogs Die In Hot
Cars stand out as an original and entertaining tribute to the '80s
sound, a musical style that seems to become more attractive with
age.
Grandaddy
Excerpts From The Diary Of Todd Zilla
(V2, 2005)
Grandaddy has always seemed like the more
responsible and practical older brother of The Flaming Lips. Maybe
it's because their music has always had a whimsical quality that
is as focused as it is wandering. Excerpts From The Diary Of
Todd Zilla is the newest offering from Grandaddy.
Technically classified as an EP, this new collection
of songs is sufficient enough to please any Grandaddy fan. But it's
obvious that they are saving their best new material for the next
full length. The one pure gem that they have let slip for this EP
is "At My Post." This track finds the band as spacious
and epic as they have ever been. The remainder of the EP falls at
various levels below this song. But if this one shining light is
any indication of things to come, it's obvious that Grandaddy still
have a great deal to offer.
Burning Brides
Leave No Ashes
(V2, 2004)
Leave No Ashes is a textbook example of
the "sophomore slump." Burning Brides' debut album,
Fall Of The Plastic Empire was an energetic and playful hard
rock romp that crash-landed somewhere between Black Sabbath and
early Nirvana. Leave No Ashes is an uninspired rehash of
the previous album.
The playful energy is, for the most part, still
there. But, the overall songwriting is much weaker. At times, it
almost seems like the band is selling its soul to be more accessible
and less evil. But, I guess you can't blame a band for trying to
reach out. The only real standout track, "King Of The Demimonde",
maniacally rocks out like the bastard son of Sabbath and Slayer.
In fact, this song is so good that Leave No Ashes does not
deserve it.
Mercury Rev
The Secret Migration
(V2, 2005)
Sometimes it occurs to me that I may not be as
musically knowledgeable as I'd like to think I am. The name Mercury
Rev has been haphazardly tossed around me for many years. They
have been making music for a decade and yet their newest release,
The Secret Migration, is my first taste of what they have
to offer. So, what's the verdict? Guilty. Yes, Mercury Rev have
been charged with attempting to recreate someone else's work and
pass it off as their own. I'm not entirely positive that Mercury
Rev were intending to rip off The Flaming Lips, but The Secret
Migration comes across as a desperate masquerade of The Soft
Bulletin.
There are just too many similarities.
1. The Lips' longtime collaborator, Dave Fridmann, produced the
album.
2. Jonathan Donahue's vocals sound alarmingly similar to Wayne Coyne's.
3. The entire album sounds very orchestral and slightly experimental,
the backbone style of Bulletin.
Let's not even get into the fact that the songs
all sound like they were scraped off of The Lips' cutting room floor.
Don't get me wrong, Mercury Rev are not an awful band. Actually,
they appear to be quite talented. But with a decade under their
belt, I would expect a bit more originality than The Secret Migration
has to offer.
Nada Surf
The Weight Is A Gift
(V2, 2005)
Nada Surf have now successfully cleared
themselves of "one hit wonder" status. If you remember
the song "Popular," a quirky Pavement-esque pop song that
graced the airwaves while I was still in high school, then you are
probably old enough to appreciate the evolution of Nada Surf as
well as the pop purity of The Weight Is A Gift.
Following the critically praised Let Go,
the band returns with a gently polished celebration of melody. There
is no new ground broken here. Nada Surf have expertly honed their
indie-rock skills and are offering us their version of a classically
pleasing listening experience. One track in particular, "Do
It Again," is the closest thing to a perfect pop song that
I have heard in years. Like other perfect pop albums, The Weight
Is A Gift is an engaging and satisfying album that somehow continues
to resonate in your head long after the last note has faded.
Stereophonics
Language. Sex. Violence. Other?
(V2, 2005)
If I could invent a time machine, travel back to
1995 and meet myself, after marveling at the many technological
advances, my former self would most likely ask about the music of
the next century. In this scenario, I offer him Stereophonics'
Language. Sex. Violence. Other?. After giving cautious attention
to the first three tracks, the decade-younger me removes his headphones,
wrinkles his forehead and asks, "All of these amazing accomplishments
and yet music hasn't evolved at all?"
Fortunately, it has. But Stereophonics don't seem
to have realized that. Language. Sex. Violence. Other? would
have been an easily dismissable alterna-rock album a decade ago.
It would have most likely been lost among Bush, Live, and the other
embarrassingly pretentious also-rans that plagued the mid-'90s rock
scene. If this was Stereophonics' intended result, then this album
is nothing less than a masterpiece.
From First To Last
Dear Diary, My Teen Angst Has A Body Count
(Epitaph, 2004)
As much as I yawn at the current trend of emotionally
driven pseudo-hardcore bands, there is occasionally a name that
will emerge from my lips followed by the qualifying phrase, "unusually
bearable." From First To Last are not only unusually
bearable. At times, they are downright enjoyable. Despite the rather
unimaginative title, Dear Diary, My Teen Angst Has A Body Count
has an unmistakable energy that drives it from beginning to
end.
There are, of course, the normal genre-induced clichés
that are near impossible to avoid, but From First To Last seem to
know how to use these to their advantage. The passionately angst-ridden
vocals and metal influenced rhythms are successfully complemented
by uncharacteristically unique arrangements. The only negative aspect
of Dear Diary
is that the vocals do occasionally take
whining to an annoying level. But that comes with the territory.
If teenage angst-ridden emo is what you are looking for, you could
do a lot worse.
The Plot To Blow Up The Eiffel Tower
Love In The Fascist Brothel
(Revelation, 2005)
If, for some reason, you ever decide to excessively
speed down the highway in your car, there is usually a moment when
you suddenly feel like you could realistically lose control. That
moment pretty much sums up Love In The Fascist Brothel.
The Plot To Blow Up The Eiffel Tower are
a San Diego quartet that excel in energy, volume, and attitude.
And when I say "attitude," I mean the kind that doesn't
exist solely in hairstyles and bad-boy stage personas. The Plot
create a technically discordant chaos and almost never leave any
room for the listener to catch their breath. It often seems to me
that this generation of rock music is badly in need of an adrenaline
shot, and Love In The Fascist Brothel is exactly that. In
fact, if someone were to ask me what I think the term "punk"
means in relation to music in the 21st century, I would immediately
refer them to The Plot To Blow Up The Eiffel Tower.
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