The Mountain Goats, Heretic Pride

I have to confess little knowledge of The Mountain Goats. All I know* is that the band is led by a fellow of the name John Darnielle, who also writes all the songs. Heretic Pride, released February 19^th of this year, is their 16^th album.

My brief research tells me that Darnielle is known for his powerful songwriting skills. After listening to Heretic Pride numerous times, I tend to agree. Such tongue-in-cheek tunes as “How To Embrace a Swamp Creature” and “Michael Myers Resplendent,” or touchingly beautiful love songs as “San Bernadino” and “So Desperate,” feature writing that is innovative and talented. The frequent string arrangements on this album are absolutely fantastic and lend great beauty to the whole. I’ve read that Darnielle is also known for being very literate with his lyrics, making references to various writers, stories, and world mythologies. Such examples here include the very title to “Sax Rohmer #1” (Sax Rohmer was an author, his most lasting creation being Fu Manchu) and H.P. Lovecraft’s stay in New York City, as referenced in “Lovecraft in Brooklyn.” His other knowledge extends to lake monsters (“Tianchi Lake”) and 1970s reggae artists such as Prince Far I (the vaguely reggae “Sept 15 1983,” the date Prince Far died).

“Marduk T-Shirt Men’s Room Incident” caught my attention just from the title since I have a big stiffy for Mesopotamian mythology. And I was promptly disappointed when I find it has nothing to do with any ancient gods from the Fertile Crescent and more to do with someone wearing a t-shirt for a Swedish black metal band that is named after the Babylonian diety. I’m not quite sure I fully understand what it’s about (alternate theories abound, saying rape, anonymous bathroom sex with overtones of guilt, or maybe a “don’t get involved” sort of situation, etc.), but it’s undeniably one of the most touching and unsettling songs on the album. That is, unless you pay no attention to the words.

The first song I heard from Heretic Pride was “Lovecraft in Brooklyn” after seeing it on music blog The Rich Girls Are Weeping. Unfortunately, it created an expectation for something more rock-oriented than the more folk-styled material I wound up with. I don’t really have a problem with this, since I probably should have done more research on the band before picking this up. However, I do have some issues with Heretic Pride.

First, and this criticism has more to do with the band as a whole, is that John Darnielle has a voice that I find to be really annoying. He has a pitch that makes it difficult to even want to listen to him, which is very detrimental to a band that has a reputation for clever songwriting. All those fine words get lost when the mind wanders away to avoid the voice you’re hearing. Another complaint is the misuse of guest musician Annie Clark (better known to some of you as St. Vincent). She performs guitar and harmony vocals on “Autoclave,” but you wouldn’t notice because her voice is high and buried so far down in the mix that it’s pointless to even mention that she was ever recording with them. She sounds more like her voice was a vocal effect added to Darnielle's microphone than having any distinctions of her own. Annie Clark has a beautiful voice, and should have been boosted a bit more than what wound up on the final product. Her talent was wasted here.

Art direction and photography from the usual 4AD suppliers Vaughan Oliver/v23 and Marc Atkins (respectively), it’s beautiful, blah, blah, blah. There are no printed lyrics, which I find a disappointment considering how many (including myself) think so highly of Darnielle’s songwriting. I feel like having something printed might make it easier to follow since his voice is not conducive to attention retention, but alas, all you get is a digipak with some nice photo work for the front and back. The photography is rather sparse, which is surprising for a 4AD release.

I have mixed feelings on Heretic Pride. It has just about everything I like in music: excellent songwriting, fantastic arrangements, and topics I can get behind. But that annoying singing really kicks it down more than a couple notches. There are vocalists that are bad but ultimately interesting; unfortunately, Darnielle isn’t one of them. As such, I can’t really recommend this unless you can handle the man’s voice. In other words, do what I didn’t do, and get off your butt and research the band and the band’s sound before risking disappointment.



The Mountain Goats official website and a myspace that claims to be official, but there is some doubt given prior events.


*Not entirely true. I also know the idiots at the local Borders filed Heretic Pride in the H section instead of the M section, where there already was a Mountain Goats album. I had been looking for this album at that damn store for weeks, logically looking for it in the Ms.

*zzzzzzzzz*snerk* Sorry, I was dozing: Neil Diamond, Home Before Dark

First confession: I am not a fan of acoustic guitars. When I was in college, it seemed like everyone had an acoustic, and they all thought they were folk singers. Some thought they were Bob Dylan, some thought they were Woody Guthrie, some thought they were Joni Mitchell, all of them were boring as a dentist’s waiting room being filled with sleeping gas. American acoustic folk is one of the music genres that provides me an express trip to Snoreville. Second confession: I have never listened to Neil Diamond before. The first I will remain steadfast on, but I apologize for the second, solely based on his fame.

I’m not expecting to make any friends with this review, so be prepared when I say this album is very effective as a sleep aid. I found very little interesting with Home Before Dark, and what caught my interest for even a moment was rapidly forgotten by subsequent tracks that make a good money working part-time jobs as substitutes for the Sandman.

The first song, “If I Don’t See You Again,” struck me as being a touching and potent piece that, while not exactly making me jump up and down in excitement, held me down enough to appreciate it in some sense. Unfortunately, this is almost immediately undone with the next track, “Pretty Amazing Grace.” I found “Pretty Amazing Grace” to be somewhat annoying and otherwise forgettable, starting out sounding like “Feliz Navidad.” I can sort of dig “Don’t Go There,” but at the moment, I can’t recall why. Skipping to track five, “One More Bite Of The Apple” wins the Official Rum-Soaked Review Silver Medal for Most Annoying Song of 2008 (Gold goes to R.E.M.’s “I’m Gonna DJ,” but it almost was unseated here). It only serves the purpose of waking me up after the last track. The chorus is cliché and badly delivered, and at 6 minutes runtime, too f#cking long. The whole album feels long, but I can't tell you because I can't pay attention to it long enough to accurately judge. “Forgotten” is a bit more what I was looking for: down-home country folk. “Slow It Down” grabs with the introduction before following it’s own title and dropping pace to something very comfortable (to the point of putting my head on a pillow). The title track isn’t bad, but still boring in ways I didn’t think were possible. The deluxe edition features two covers, “Without Her” by Harry Nilsson and “Make You Feel My Love” by Bob Dylan. “Without Her” is the dark, morose, painfully beautiful sort of thing that I automatically gravitate to, while “Make You Feel My Love” doesn’t change the prevalent drowsiness. That’s all I got; every other track is so bland that I didn’t realize they were over until two songs later.

Almost forgot to mention: the album has nice photography. It's a pretty slick looking case. The only criticism here is that it is annoying to slide the disc out of the cardboard sleeves glued to the outer flaps.

I’m given to understand that Neil Diamond is a very polarizing artist, with disputes between fans and non-fans running the risk of ruining relationships of all kinds. Find out if your spouse-to-be is a fan or not if you are strongly on either side of the fence; otherwise, you run the risk of many bitter arguments. Yes, Neil is famous as a great songwriter. But he’s not the be-all and end-all of contemporary music.

Final analysis is that Home Before Dark is emotional folk inspirational lovey-dovey crap that gets very old, very fast. To be fair, Home Before Dark isn’t a bad album by any stretch of the imagination. What it is is utterly boring. To some, generating a sense of complete indifference is a worse effect than being bad. For them, I can only say, “avoid this album.” However, if acoustic, calm, but occasionally potent is your speed, then perhaps this album is for you, assuming you aren’t a rabid Diamond fan already and haven’t bought it already. As for me, I beg your pardon but, yawn I’m feeling kind of drowsy right now. I’ll get back to you after a nap.



Neil Diamond website and myspace

This is the new church music: The Late Cord, Lights from the Wheelhouse

I’m going to jump back to 2006 for a minute. Among the amazing releases that year, including Scott Walker’s The Drift and Tom Waits’ three-disc beast Orphans, a little two-man project called The Late Cord put out an EP called Lights from the Wheelhouse.

My personal experience with this release is rather anomalous. I must have bootlegged it from someone at some point, since it has been on my computer since around June 2006, which is odd since the album wasn’t released in North America until July 25^th of that year. I kept passing over it as I scrolled through my media player, always asking, “What is that, and where did it come from?” Well, the mystery was eventually solved and I now wonder why the hell I didn’t listen to it sooner; the issue of not owning a physical copy was also recently rectified.

The Late Cord is made up of Micah P. Hinson and John-Mark Lapham. Hinson is a man whose young life has been fraught with difficulty. Drugs, arrest, jail, bankruptcy, homelessness… but he has still managed to fight his way through and create beautiful art. Here is a man a mere three months older than I am, been through hell itself, and has not quit. He stands as an inspiration to those of us who think we are in a bind. John-Mark Lapham is known for his work with The Earlies. The two grew up in the same town, but never knew each other until introduced by mutual friend Brandon Carr. Mr. Carr is owed a round of applause, since the meeting of these two sparked a music project that I have come to love.

I have a confession to make: I can’t think of saying anything about Lights from the Wheelhouse. It is so tuned to evoke emotional response from the listener that criticism is quite difficult. Everything, every last organ and cello and ambient noise and harmonica, everything, is so rich and potent that I am swept up and away. The variety of instruments used (and there are a lot of them) is mind-boggling; you barely notice how many different sounds you are actually hearing until you sit down and try to pick them out. That’s a particular songcraft style that I really appreciate. Their online bio begins, “This is the new church music.” It is a sentiment I can hardly argue with. Somber, but beautiful.

In a way, it reminds me of another excellent release from 2006: Carla Bozulich’s Evangelista. However, not for any reason other than the sort of country gothic experimental feel of the music. Lights from the Wheelhouse is much mellower and more (dare I use a word that two of my readers hate because they overused it when young? I overused it too, but not as bad as those two) ethereal. Lights from the Wheelhouse is a sort of otherwordly folk, like echoes from the winds of history. “Chains/Strings^I” (featuring cellist Semay Wu), aside from being the track directly in the middle of the EP, is also the shortest and my favorite. It’s pure instrumental, and reminds me of the music by Jankowski used in the Brothers Quay short “Street of Crocodiles.” If anything, putting the longest and arguably most potent track, “Lila Blue,” at the beginning is potentially detrimental to the effect of the following four songs, but I find myself enjoying the whole thing from start to finish regardless.

Lights from the Wheelhouse is a 4AD release, which means you can expect several things. First, the music will be of high quality. 4AD generally does not print sh#t. It may not be to your liking, but it certainly will not be trash (even The Breeders’ Mountain Battles, for all its lackluster, wasn’t garbage). Second, you can expect Vaughan Oliver/v23 to provide graphic design so that the whole package and not merely the music that’s on the CD is a work of art. 4AD is odd in a way; not many record labels have the benefit of brand loyalty from their consumers. Their commitment to quality is no doubt why many (including myself) often look to them as a shining beacon in the dank, foul, rot-stench realm of modern music publishing.

Vaughan Oliver works his art direction magic again, as does Marc Atkins with his photography. Design and textures were performed by Chris Bigg from v23. I cannot do more than heap praise upon their creation. It lends a perfect visual accompaniment to that which I am hearing. Incidentally, the same team of Oliver, Bigg, and Atkins were responsible for the art from another one of 2006’s best releases, Scott Walker’s The Drift. Lights from the Wheelhouse comes in a mini-LP style case; while I used to hate those, I’ve grown to like them in some ways.

Why is all this relevant? One EP from two years ago, and we haven’t heard anything since? Well, they are currently working on a full-length release that I am hoping will see the light this year. If the full-length album is of the same quality as this EP, we may have to start making room in the top ten right now, just in case. I don’t have a top ten from 2006, but if I were to go back, this would be somewhere in there, probably near the number 1 slot. Lights from the Wheelhouse is a debut release that is at once haunting and beautiful, and something that I have no intention of letting gather dust.



The Late Cord online, 4AD’s band profile, and at myspace.com

This sound can't be ignored: Setting Sun, Children of the Wild

This week’s reviews mark several firsts. One of which is that I’m reviewing two CDs long before their release date. I feel a bit more professional now. The other is that this is the first time I’ve reviewed music by friends, which I find to be a difficult position to be in since objectivity gets outright flushed into septic oblivion. However, I feel strongly that reviews are always subjective due to the biases of the individual writing the review, so, without further ado, let’s get this whirly-gig flying.

I’m trying to remember when I first met Erica Quitzow and Gary Levitt. I was most likely introduced to them by Kevin (see Swing The Heartache) somewhere in the wild, late night, open mike, pub scene of New Paltz, NY. In any event, I’m glad that I did indeed meet and become friends with these two fine musicians. They contribute to each other’s music projects in integral roles; I remember noting at certain live shows that the only differences in line-up between Setting Sun (Levitt’s project) and Quitzow (take a guess) was what position each performer was in and who was singing. Both Setting Sun’s and Quitzow’s releases for this year (Children of the Wild and Art College, respectively) are released on Young Love Records, Gary and Erica’s labor of love, and apparently devoted to music that is fun and loving (tagline to the website: “Home of the Love”).

Up first this week is Setting Sun’s Children of the Wild. I’ve been hearing “Overjoyed” and “Happy Joy” since I first saw Setting Sun play several years ago, so it’s nice to see them on this album. I’m sure I’ve heard some of these songs before at various places in and around New Paltz, but those two are the first that come to mind.

To me, Children of the Wild is a sunny afternoon or drive in the country album. The predominantly-acoustic folk/pop with occasional synths doesn’t really lend itself to the dimly lit bars that I typically see Gary and Erica and company performing in; this music is for socializing, dinner parties, good friends and good times. It is, for the most part, a fun and joyful album, upbeat without being annoyingly sweet like so much cookie-cutter indie pop that hits the shelves these days. Comparisons be damned; Setting Sun stands on its own feet.

The instrumentation on this album is what I like the most. It isn’t wildly different or trying too hard to escape definition, but at the same time, it’s a character all it’s own. When the cello and violin start, and those occasional synths kick in, the party really gets started; that’s the experimental aspect to Children of the Wild and what prevents it from being casually pigeonholed as an indie folk/rock album. My favorite tracks are “No Devil Me No More” (probably the darkest song on the album, more foreboding if anything), “How Long,” the delightfully spacey “Not Waste,” and the afore-mentioned “Overjoyed” and “Happy Joy.” “Inside My Love” is a bit of a heartbreaker in its simple beauty. Children of the Wild is a varied album; there’s a little something for everyone.

The album art is beautiful. Billy Keddy’s vaguely Suessian cover painting, with the two people holding hands under a big orange sun walking to a wobbly city, is a fantastic expression of the emotional state conveyed in the songs. Love, uncertainty, an expansive world to get lost in… it’s an accurate representation of everything this album is about.

If there is a single complaint to be made, it’s the run time of 37:03. The music is just so comfortable that you want to stay there all afternoon, and when it ends, you can’t help but start it over again. And again. And again. Expect Children of the Wild to spend a lot of time in your CD player. It’s infectious in it’s fun.

The official release date for both Children of the Wild and Quitzow’s Art College is June 10^th, so mark your calendars. I don’t know what they’re doing for distribution on these two albums, but I know that you can get them direct from the artists and, if they stay true to tradition, most likely at live shows. I cannot recommend the live performances of Setting Sun and Quitzow enough; aside from the fact that they are really talented, they are friendly people that I am glad are part of my life. They have a tour planned for this summer, so look at their sites and see if they are going to be near you. It will be worth stopping in for a show. If you're not ordering it right now, then pick up Children of the Wild when you hit up the concert.



Get thee to Setting Sun’s website and myspace!
Also, Young Love Records website and myspace

On deck for Thursday: Quitzow, Art College

Now you know Heaven: Haale, No Ceiling

My first encounter with Haale was over either NPR or WFMU during an in-studio performance and interview sometime before I had a CD player installed in my car. At the time, I made a note of what I was listening to, found the band on myspace, and added them. Following that, I casually forgot about them until about four weeks ago, when I noticed there was a full-length release scheduled to hit stores for the 18^th of March. So, I skipped over to Haale’s website, ordered the new album, and sat waiting for it to come in the mail.

That wait was extended by some gorilla at the local USPS office using my package as a Frisbee. Or maybe Homeland Insecurity decided to snag it since the artist in question is of Iranian descent and we could be durty turrists trying to spread chaos in the land of the free. Whatever the situation, it didn’t land in my hands until last Friday, after having sent courteous emails to the right people to have it sent again.

No Ceiling is the debut full-length following on the heels of a pair of EPs released in 2007, and comes off as a blend of Alternative, Psychedelic, and traditional Middle Eastern music. Band leader Haale Gafori has a thing for Sufi mystic poets: three tracks on No Ceiling feature lyrics by Rumi (sung in Persian). Two other tracks feature words by Persian writers; “Hastee” was written by Forough Farrokhzad, a famous Iranian poetess, and “Town on the Sea” features Persian lyrics by Marzie Nejad, who I can’t find much information for online. The rest of the lyrics are by Haale, and they are quite good. Couple the words with her fantastic voice and layer them over enthusiastic and powerful instrumentation and you have a recipe for one of the most pleasant albums I’ve had the joy to hear thus far this year.

Through the 43 minutes and 39 seconds between the opening of “Middle of Fire” to the end of “Town on the Sea,” the potent spiritual nature of No Ceiling boxes your ears repeatedly. But, gently. It’s a beautiful album, and I mean beautiful in a way that is hard to describe. It just… makes me feel good. Light. Not enlightened in any sense of the word but definitely facing the sunrise with a more positive outlook than I usually do. My friends can attest to my natural pessimism and tendency to reach for the weirdest, darkest music on the shelf, but, as my earlier review this week shows, there are lines that even I must draw. There are no lines to draw with this album, save those written and sung.

In some ways, No Ceiling reminds me of some of Dead Can Dance’s material. The comparison is limited, however, to the spiritual nature of both groups and maybe a bit of the trance-like sound. Something in the back of my jaded little brain keeps jumping up and down screaming that I’ve heard something like Haale’s music before and that she’s not all that original. Unfortunately, I can’t recall exactly what triggers that reaction except from choice DCD tunes, so I’m going to tell the little voice to shut up unless it can justify leveling the double-barreled shotgun named “Derivative” in Haale’s general direction.

My favorite tracks include “Middle of Fire,” “No Ceiling,” “Ay Dar Shekasteh,” and “Hastee.” “Off Duty Fortune Teller” is a bit of a bluesy folk track that stands out for being very down-to-earth among songs that take you to the Heavens; incidentally, it’s my least favorite track on the album. But even then, it’s not bad, merely not agreeable to my tastes.

While I have nothing but praise for the music, I do have one complaint about the album overall. On the website, they made it sound like the accompanying 16-page booklet “with ink drawings by Kevork Mourad, photos, lyrics, and translations” was a big deal. While I am thankful that they included this feature (Mourad’s art is the perfect complement to Haale’s music and I am thankful for being introduced to his work), I feel like calling special attention to it as a selling point is rather annoying. Now, call me an obtuse relic, but I remember an era when all albums had little booklets with lyrics and photographs and drawings of varying degrees of artistic skill, quite often far below that which is displayed within No Ceiling. In that era, saying “This CD has a booklet!” carried as much weight as saying it came in a case. I suppose my complaint is more with the record industry as a whole since it seems providing a multi-page liner booklet with lyrics is anachronistic in the eyes of the bigwigs. We’ve gotten to the point where anything included in the deal other than the disc and its case is considered a major selling point. How much does it really cost to add this little feature? It’s not like the prices have changed much when I go to the store to pick up the latest.

I can accept certain cost-cutting measures to offset losses due to digital piracy or whatever the reason is this week for poor music sales. Digipaks: fine. Cardboard sleeves: okay, its got a retro feel, like sliding a nice piece of vinyl out and admiring the play of light shining in the grooves. But when they take away the lyric sheet and cut back on most of the album art, there’s little incentive to actually buy the CD as opposed to simply bootlegging it over peer-to-peer. What’s next? If they keep cutting down on the quality of the product, we can look forward to picking up CDs sold in nothing but shrink wrap, or a folded paper envelope with nothing but the artist and album title hand-written on the outer flap by someone that is not only English illiterate, but illiterate in his native tongue as well.

I seem to have gotten sidetracked. Anyway, No Ceiling is a delightful musical experience with excellent accompanying art and is worth the expense. It’s on a limited print run, so your next step should be to go to Haale’s website and buy it should anything I said here strike you as enticing.



Haale’s website (buy the album here) and myspace page