Lower Class Revolt compilation, vol. 2

The Lower Class Revolt is a collective "committed to bringing to the forefront the gifted and the talented via an organization that provides the physical and digital distribution of music related projects, the organizing of live performances and the production of merchandise that helps promote an artist’s ambitions." Or at least that's what they say on their website. Part of this light-shining on gifted artists is the release of a series of compilations showcasing those that fit this group's idea of blast-your-sock-off awesome. Thankfully for those of us on a budget, these compilations are given away as free downloads, presumably so we can go wild with what we're hearing and rush out to purchase the entire discographies of the bands showcased therein.

Unfortunately, I once again have the terrible sensation of picking on the wheelchair-bound leprous retard as I proceed to picking this freebie apart. I hate jumping up and down on free downloads with criticisms, but being free shouldn't absolve anyone from not putting forth the best effort.

Apparently, the people at Lower Class Revolt take the notion of "compilation" quite literally since all the tracks are combined back to back in the form of one huge mp3 instead of giving us a folder with a pack of separate music files to arrange as needed in our media players. This causes a problem in that those of us who zone out for a few moments and loose track of where we are in this audio file, thus having no clue as to who we are listening to when we finally prick up our ears and take notice of what is being fed into our headphones. This also makes it a tad difficult to cut up your own mix from these songs since you'd have to first download a song editor and then laboriously hack this thing up into its separate songs; no one has the patience for that.

The picture file that can be snagged from their website doesn't feature handy runtimes, so you get to play that old game of "Guess What Song You're Listening To" that I thought died with the era of cassette mixes and smudged handwritten labels. This also makes it difficult to skip to favorites since you have no idea when a song ends and the next begins. If I'm listening to music on my computer, I would like to at least pretend I'm in the 21st century and be able to skip directly to a desired song at a moment's notice instead of having to scan through the whole damn thing.

Also of concern is the errors on the "back cover" image. Ignoring the one spelling error, there's also a factual error. Carcrashlander, one of the standouts on this release, is stated as to having their contribution "Killingsworth Frost" originating from a self-titled EP. After some brief research, I find they have released no EPs at all. They have one eponymous album, but the song featured here isn't on that album; instead, the song comes from their second album, titled Mountains On Our Backs. Factual issues don't instill much confidence in me.

The other standout from this release is the song from Rykarda Parasol, "Of Thunder and Light." However, to be completely frank with you, it's not even her strongest work. Songs she has on her myspace page are better. I was already interested in what she's doing, so this compilation has done nothing to further my fascination with Ms. Parasol's art.

Otherwise, I found a number of these songs to be alright, but nothing so spectacular as to blow me down the hall. A compilation is intended to get people interested in new bands they may have not heard otherwise, and you do so by offering up at least their good songs, if not their best. Few things here grabbed me, and the aforementioned annoyances with the formatting drive this down to an unrecommended release.

I'm going to put in more work than I should have to, and list each band featured here, a brief pithy comment on their contributed song, links to their myspace pages, as well as a quick assessment of whether I think they should be pursued or not. Unless otherwise noted, pretty much everything was fairly standard indie rock.

Citay, "First Fantasy": why do I feel like I'm being smacked about the head by Square Enix's collective music department's giant wang? Maybe a subtle association of song title to video game series, but they've got that spacey J-RPG sound to a fine art. Goes on too long. Recommended if you like sprawling atmospheric tripped-out guitar.

Rykarda Parasol, "Of Thunder and Light": Not her best song, but still quite good. Dark and seductive. Recommended for fans of PJ Harvey, Nick Cave. I'd probably kick down many doors to see a live performance.

All Smiles, "Tired Jaws": What the hell is that slapping noise in the background? Nice acoustic opening, but not exactly knocking me out overall. Point in fact, more putting me to sleep, but that might be the desired effect. I'm not going to follow this one.

Shuteye Unison, "Tomorrow's Five Horizons": Not bad indie/shoegaze, but not exactly cooking me up. I like the distortion to it, but it's only mildly grabbing my interest. No opinion at this time.

Carcrashlander, "Killingsworth Frost": A bit heavier than the rest of this compilation. Mildly interested; would probably check them out at a live venue.

Evacuee, "Oneononeness": More indie rock that doesn't blow me away, but with the addition of a voice that is slightly annoying. Not interested.

Harbours, "No Souvenirs": I like the organs on this track; strong 60s psychedelic feel to these guys. The jury's still out, but I'll consider them in the future.

Kelly Blair Bauman, "I See Stars": Light-hearted, bouncy, and breezy. I kind of like this one, and would consider seeing him (yes, it's a he) live.

Kid Mud, "Joey Crown": Kind of like it, I think... maybe? Can't come to a conclusion. Actually, yes I can come to a conclusion: they sound like Modest Mouse. "Nuff said.

Form and Fate, "Tracking, south of 60 degrees latitude": Instrumental, moody, sprawling. Good counterpoint to the comp's opening instrumental. Very post-rock feeling. Like the opening track, this goes on for bloody forever, or at least feels like it. Considered for further investigation.

Maybe this particular brand of indie rock isn't my thing, but most of this compilation just bored me. Only half was mildy interesting, with one that rose above, but I was already interested in that artist to begin with. Net change of zero. And I'm not hanging on to an mp3 that I have to scan through trying to avoid the songs that I don't like to get to the ones I have a passing interest in.

While I'm all for getting exposure for the smaller bands, this compilation doesn't succeed. I wish the best for all these groups, but this release is just flat-out a pain in the neck. You'd be better off just listening to the handfuls they throw up on their myspace pages rather than wasting hard drive space with this. In short: good idea, mediocre execution. I might look into the next Lower Class Revolt compilation, but this hasn't exactly grabbed my attention that well.



Lower Class Revolt's website where you can download this compilation, form your own opinions, and come back here and call me a cheap and opinionated bastard.


Also of important note: due to all problems I've babbled on about in the past (negative cashflow, lack of interesting music coming out, chimpanzees falling from the sky), I'm considering shifting to a once weekly format until such time as things improve. Expect posts to be moved to Wednesday until further notice. Special posts may appear on an irregular schedule.

Pool of Frogs and A Black China, Live @ Oasis 9/18/08

Once again, I forgot to bring a camera to a live performance. I hope your imaginations work well, or you feel like plumbing through these bands' myspace pages for photos from that night.

Anyway, I had heard that friend Johnnie Wang's band A Black China was going to be playing last Thursday, so I decided to clear my calendar well in advance and hit New Paltz since I hadn't seen them play in something like 6 months or more.

I arrived at Oasis about 7 minutes to 10pm. Since the bands were not scheduled to perform until 11, I figured this gave me about an hour to sit around, drink myself at least mildly stupid, and at least entertain the fantasy of chasing attractive young women around the room. As it were, I hadn't gotten halfway through my first beer before members of both bands came in with a rather glorious mountain of gear. That parade of equipment continued for about 10 minutes.

First band up was Pool of Frogs. First thing to note is that they were pretty loud. They started with a very spacey intro, then moved into a high-energy alt/punk/folk/rock sort of thing. Note "high-energy": these guys were so active during their hour or so set you'd think they were blood relatives of the Energizer bunny.

This live performance was the first real experience with this band; since I'm not a fan, I can't give you a run down of songs played. When I first heard them, I thought to myself, "This is the sort of music Weezer would make if they had a set of balls among them." But, I know precious little about Weezer, so perhaps my first impulsive comparison isn't entirely appropriate. The first song played resonated with me; nothing ever changes indeed (it should be on their myspace, go have a listen when done reading). Pool of Frogs is highly erratic, wild, and fun. The players couldn't sit still while playing, which I like since so many bands consist of members who stay in one place throughout a show, as if their feet were held in place by cement. The bass player was jumping off his amp, the drummer kept climbing past his kit up to the frontman's microphone; they just would venture wherever the hell they wanted to at any moment. Spontaneity of performance is a good trait to have. They made good use of some strategically placed feedback, and when singing backup, they knew how far away to be from the microphone to give a good effect.

I found their performance to be immensely fun. I think they had fun too. Pool of Frogs enjoys what they're doing, and it shows. For the approximate hour they performed, they were wild and goofy and just plain had fun. I especially like the Lite-Brite positioned on stage spelling out their band's name. It was a quite a fun show, and highly recommended.

Following Pool of Frogs was A Black China. I originally encountered this band through multiinstrumentalist Johnnie Wang. Last time I saw them perform, it was probably at the beginning of this year and they were still a three-piece band at that point. Since then, they have added another member. The current linup is: Jamal Ruhe (guitar/bass/keyboards/vox), Johnnie Wang (guitar/bass/keyboards/vox), Matt Grande (drums/vox), and Jesse Towey (bass/guitar/keyboards). During their performance, everyone alternated guitar and bass duties, with Johnnie handling keyboards.

Like Pool of Frogs, A Black China began with a spaced-out introduction, very mellow and not particularly suited to the late-night drunken bar set as the din of shouted conversations blended into the music in strange ways. There performance was marred by a classic problem with Oasis: the microphones needed to be turned up. It was difficult to make out vocals over the instruments. I don't know why exactly this is, but more than a few performances at Oasis are like this. Acoustic qualities of the room, equipement, who knows.

Aside from that, their performance was downright awesome. Their songs are a nice blend of romantic singer-songwriter, shoegaze, and, when needed, a solid thrash. There's a lot of wide-ranging influence in their music. They really brought out the thrash with the second-to-last (initially last) song. They were talked into doing one last tune, and brought out this soaring, sprawling, spacey trip into weirdness that lasted for something like 10 minutes (I think; I didn't time it precisely).

All in all, I'm glad I went out that night. Both these bands are quite awesome in their own ways, and I recommend catching them at you soonest convenience. Check their schedules and get out for a show.

Pool of Frogs website and myspace
A Black China website and myspace

Okay, I procrastinated, so sue me.

Alright, since by this time of day it's evident that I'm not posting anything of significance, I just going to push the fact that bands A Black China and Pool of Frogs will be playing at Oasis Cafe tonight (that's September 18th) at some ungodly hour. Come out and have a drink with us!


Oasis Cafe
58 Main Street
New Paltz, NY

(in case you couldn't see the flyer to the right)


A Black China myspace page
Pool of Frogs myspace page

A Little Bit of Nostalgia

That clunking sound you're hearing is the sound of me rummaging around my music collection trying to figure out what to post today since my budget is still AWOL and there isn't much interesting coming out in the next week or so (feel free to prove me wrong or try to excite me about something you have in mind). As such, you can expect some actual content next week, but for now, trip down memory lane.

Music videos were a new thing when I was growing up. Point in fact, MTV is younger than me by about a month (yeah, totally dating myself right there... somewhere between "too old to pass as a youth" and "fossilized"). When we moved when I was about 8 years old, we lost our connection to music videos and television since the new house was in the midst of a fantastic nowhere with no cable. No more music videos for me until about 6 or 7 years later when the family decided on getting one of those big, old-fashioned satellite dishes that now is used as a rust collector.

In the era before we moved, I remember sitting in front of MTV quite frequently. I can't remember many of the videos I saw back then, but a few stand out. One of those standouts is Dire Straits' "Money for Nothing." Maybe it was the computer-generated animation (one of the first music videos to feature such animation), or the awesome opening hook, or Sting's falsetto in the beginning and end, but I never could forget that song and its video.

Anyway, here's the video for your perusal. Hope you enjoy it and fondly recall days of lying on the rug in front of the TV.

Revenge of the Double Feature: Wovenhand, Ten Stones and Raveonettes Remixed

One complaint about Wovenhand: either there's a space between "woven" and "hand," or there isn't. It's as simple as that; make up your damn mind.

Wovenhand is one of those bands that my friend Kevin came across and immediately latched on, force feeding the music down all his friends' throats. My usual response to this sort of behavior is to tell whichever friend has done this, "Yes, I'll check it out," then leave the mp3s they send me to sit on my desktop for a couple months before deigning to give them my attention for even a minute. This time, I waited about three days before getting around to listening to what I was being force-fed; this is one of the rare occasions where I go back for seconds instead of passing it off to some forgotten file folder on my computer.

I'm having difficulty describing this in a way that would be accurate to what I'm feeling. It's like taking a bourbon-tanked horse ride through a dusty dream landscape where song manifests reality, compatriots are hard to come by, and inner passion rules as king. Trying to express what I'm feeling while listening to this is incredibly difficult. Powerful music is what you get on Ten Stones. If strong songwriting is what you're looking for, then this is your album.

Picking favorite tracks isn't very easy either. "The Beautiful Axe" opens the album the way an album opener should. But, "Horsetail" really grabs me too. And "Iron Feather," and -but- -graaa! Can't pick favorites! The only track I'm not really wild about is "White Knuckle Grip." For some reason, probably the very blues rock beat to it, it reminds me of a George Thorogood song, at least at the beginning. But the well-placed accordion (?) saves it, raises it, and makes it quite good actually. Comes off a little like The Birthday Party, in a way. "Quiet Night of Quiet Stars" is a calm and breezy little thing that calls about a vaguely "Girl from Ipanema" vibe, if it were from a dark sunset in a Terry Gilliam film (okay, I have no idea what that was meant to mean either; it sounded good at the time, so we're running with it). "Kingdom of Ice" carries a great epic tone. I especially like the untitled bonus track at the end. You know what? The whole album is great; just shut up and get it already.

Although Wovenhand is typically filed under alt-country, I'd say Ten Stones straddles the line between alt-country and a thrashy rock noir. Fans of Crime & The City Solution, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, and Carla Bozulich would do well to check this out. It especially draws comparison to Crime & The City Solution.

Otherwise, Ten Stones is damn awesome. Just off a first listen, it rocketed into my top ten for the year. Subsequent listens will probably drive it into the top five. To answer the question regarding whether or not a recent release makes me interested in backtracking an artist's prior releases (including other associated acts), I'd put down a yes vote. Yes, I will be going back for seconds. And most likely thirds.


Wovenhand website and myspace, and label site for direct ordering of Ten Stones

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As previously mentioned in my review of The Raveonettes' latest full-length, they are releasing a series of digital EPs this fall. The first is a freebie, and consists of three remixes from Lust Lust Lust. Unfortunately, the remixers in question did everything that makes me hate remix albums. The 80KIDZ remix of "Dead Sound" is nothing but a lightly-sampled-from-the-original techno sh*tpile. The only thing recognizable is a clip of the vocals that do that annoying and incomprehensible stuttering crap that plagues the whole techno genre. Nic Endo's variation on "Aly, Walk With Me" strips it of all that made it good in the first place and replaces it with a minimal beat. Most of the lyrics are chopped out, and there's this 8-bit video game sound effect that keeps jumping in. Trentemøller's treatment of "Lust" does it no favors. Instead, it drags on for 7 minutes of masurbatory and repetitive techno-beat.

All in all, I could have done without this remix release. Free is the appropriate price, but I suppose some out there are incredibly excited about these remixes, and is no doubt enjoying them very much. They can enjoy them all they want; I'll stick to the original album myself.

The Caretaker, Persistent Repetition of Phrases

I was introduced to The Caretaker (one of various projects of British electronic musician James Kirby) by friend and fellow internet clogger, I mean "blogger," Frank (also know as Frankie Teardrop in some circles). He has the fantastic habit of finding the most interesting things to dump on the back of my head like a nail-studded baseball bat, and The Caretaker is one of those things.

Our instant messenger conversation, regarding The Caretaker's prior release A Stairway to the Stars, went thusly:

[23:34] me: whoa
[23:34] me: this
[23:34] me: this is right up my alley
[23:34] Frank: yeah dude
[23:34] Frank: what track?
[23:34] me: "cloudy since you went away"
[23:34] Frank: that's my favorite.
[23:34] Frank: i knew you'd love it.
[23:36] me: like picking up alien transmissions from ages ago; i can imagine the greys listening to something like this millenia in the future out past the milky way
[23:36] Frank: well put!

I suppose you could say The Caretaker made a reasonable impression on me from the moment I was introduced to his music. A Stairway to the Stars even inspired a poem out of me (I'm not posting it here, so don't ask). This year's release under the name of The Caretaker is titled Persistent Repetition of Phrases and is released on the Install label rather than V/Vm Test Records like most other Caretaker releases.

Now, I've always found the notion of reviewing an ambient album somewhat bizarre. What can you say about such music, either as an album or a genre? It set the atmosphere very nicely? Ambient was never really my thing, so perhaps I've been missing something from the beginning.

The Caretaker is not your average ambient musician though. For those not previously introduced, Kirby takes old recordings from the 1920s and 30s and samples, mixes, layers, etc. to create his material. The result is an often eerie and unsettling echo of previous eras, as though a group of ghosts had taken your to a jazz club or out ballroom dancing.

Persistent Repetition of Phrases follows the same style as previous releases. I presume the "repetition" in the title comes from the fact that many particular movements are recycled over and over again in a track, a different sample per track, throughout the nine tracks of the album. However, this only adds to the spectral atmosphere of the album. Echoes from beyond and all that. Quite unsettling in some ways, but overall, exquisitely beautiful. Many of the sounds are muddled together in such a way as to create a mood of drifting off into that other time.

My favorite track is most likely "False Memory Syndrome," but that's not saying much considering that all of The Caretaker's songs are so washed-out sweeping you away and tend to take the listener's attention with them. For a few moments, I had wondered why Kirby seemed so obsessed with the notions of memory and amnesia in some of his prior works; now I know.

Of course, some critics will be so inclined as to say, "You paid fifteen bucks for a disc full of static?" And I will reply, "Yes, yes I did." Because the static crackle that runs through just about every track is part of the effect, the composition, setting the feeling that what we are listening to is, in some way, very old. This will no doubt drive some listeners up a wall, but I love it and recommend it highly.

The digipak seems like it wasn't quite cut evening, but there's not much to be done about that. I love the cover painting by Guy Denning. Dark, inky, all the colors and shades I love and a nice match to The Caretaker's music. (See this painting and find out more about Guy Denning at his website.)

Personally, I enjoyed A Stairway to the Stars more, but this is equally worth listening to and acquiring. Unfortunately, Persistent Repetition of Phrases is one of the few releases from The Caretaker that isn't available for free download. To put the icing on that particular and peculiar cake, Persistent Repetition of Phrases is also a limited pressing of 500 copies, so if there is any doubt as to whether you might not love it to death, just get it anyway. The bizarre echoes and floating tones and omnipresent static crackle will surely impress friends and loved ones (or at least convince them you're somewhat loonier than they thought). This is amazing material, and well worth the price you pay.

For those curious or skeptical, I can't push enough the fact that many of The Caretaker's albums are free to download (or you can purchase CD on all and vinyl for a select few), so you really have no excuse to not give his at least some of his efforts at least a passing glance.



The Caretaker at myspace and online

What Happened to New Release Fever?

Maybe it's just the area I live in, but it seems like I'm the last person in all of Orange County, NY that gives a damn about Tuesday.

Wait, Tuesday? What's so special about Tuesday?

Well, for those of you who aren't aware, Tuesday is the day that new releases come out. It's the day of the week that music nerds drool for as they wait in anticipation of getting their hands on the latest albums. Or at least they used to, before the invention of the internet and the ability to simply bootleg it, then yawn and dismiss any queries "Did you pick up the latest Britney Spears album?" with a wave of the hand and some variation on "I downloaded it; maybe I'll get it next week."

Did peer-to-peer filesharing kill Tuesday, or is there no one left that gives a damn? I remember having to hit several different stores when Grinderman came out last year; only one had it out in a display that read "New Releases." The others either had it buried somewhere in the shelves (disorganized as usual), or simply didn't have it out. On Tuesday, that's inexcusable; new releases should be at least on the shelves, properly organized and labeled, if not set up in their own sections advertising the fact "HEY DUMMY! THESE ALBUMS CAME OUT TODAY!"

I remember one local store that used to have a midnight release special. They didn't do it every week, but at least they did it once in awhile, when a new album's release was actually anticipated and people got into a foaming frenzy to get their hands on it. At least I think that's what they did; I never had the money to go out on midnight release nights. I guess a car and driver's license would have helped.

Anyway, I can't help but feel that people aren't excited about picking up new releases anymore. But why? Is it because they aren't listening to the radio as much anymore? Or has bootlegging killed the thrill of camping outside a store, waiting for the doors to open so you can make a beeline for the new music so hot it threatens to burn the building down? I don't know. But I do know, that even in this age of excessive communication, we aren't aware of all the new things that have hit the market. The Caretaker has had a new album out this year that I didn't know about (expect a review of that when I get my grubby mitts on it); an SPK album that was only available on vinyl and long out of print was reissued on CD this year and I never heard boo about it.

Who knows. Maybe I'm just complaining about something ephemeral, something I can't nail down the exact point of simply because I have a blog and a bottle of booze and feel the need to further clog the intertubes.*



*There's a funny story about some congressman or legislator of some kind who was babbling on and on about the internet having "tubes." It made no sense, but was funny nonetheless.

The Verve, Forth

Once again, I am reviewing a band that I remember from high school but never picked up on at the time. You can also add The Verve to the list of bands and artists that are making the decade-plus return to recording, since their last album, Urban Hymns, was released in 1997. Approaching The Verve with only "Bittersweet Symphony" under my belt, I went into this review with the question: Does Forth make me interested in backtracking and partaking of their back catalog?

First impressions from the first two songs did not leave me particularly impressed. They were somewhere between something dancey, psychedelic, indie, and alternative. Not bad, but not knocking me out of my chair. On a second listen, opener "Sit And Wonder" fared better. "Rather Be" sounds like they're trying to be Coldplay. Point in fact, "Judas" sounds like a Coldplay song too. But I suppose there is limited room to work in the realm of contemporary alternative, so someone is going to sound like someone else sooner or later. Or maybe Coldplay is trying too hard to sound like The Verve's older recordings, which is entirely possible since I have never heard any of their prior albums.

"Numbness" comes off as a smokey basement barroom sort of song: dry, plodding, strained... just the way I like it. Unfortunately, it feels like it's much longer than it is and thus leaves the listener numb before the next track. However, it's also where the album picks up for me, since the next track, "I See Houses," is actually a rather fascinating, sprawling, spacey track. Still sounds like Coldplay though (or vice versa, as discussed above). "Noise Epic" kicks up the tempo to something a bit more rocking and is the only track I'm really enjoying at this point. I like the distortion, the changes in tempo within the song, and the spaciness of the thing, but when they say "epic," they mean it: "Noise Epic" runs over eight minutes. "Valium Skies" is appropriately named; it's trying damn hard to put me to sleep. I can't say much about the rest of the album except it drags on mercilessly.

For a alternative/pop/rock/thing, they make a major mistake, one of the worst mistakes any band can make: the songs are too bloody long. Admitted, this is nothing new, as my research on Wikipedia shows that they tend towards longer tracks (Urban Hymns was 75:51 overall; their first release, A Storm in Heaven, is the only album by The Verve under fifty minutes). Accuse me of having the attention span of a coked-up hyena who drank six pots of coffee, but I really think they should have pared this thing down by around ten to fifteen minutes. The best albums leave the listener wanting more rather than having us stare at the counter, wondering, "When will it ever end?" Forth fits into the latter category. Between 35 and 45 minutes is a good album length; anything over is most likely going to lose your listeners. At least they didn't make the mistake of having too many songs.

Notes on album art and packaging: I like cloud photos, so I liked the cover, but if you don't like cloud photos, you will find it boring/pretentious/some other mean words. No lyrics in the liner notes. Also, the case is one of those annoying cardboard sleeves. Not the kind that have another sleeve inside to house the disc, just a bifold chunk of cardboard with the CD slipped into a flap on one side.

To answer the question: not really, no. Maybe I will backtrack to their prior albums, someday, just for the hell of it. The problem being that, if their prior albums sound anything like this, I will probably never listen to them. Forth is not a bad album by any standard; it's just not mind-shatteringly awesome. It is not a force to be reckoned with. It's good, but not great. I foresee this being something that sits on the shelf, forgotten until stumbled upon, listened to, and then put back into limbo.



The Verve's website and myspace