Category: Uncategorized

the creek drank the cradle

‘Perhaps it is just the power of suggestion, but this album seems like the perfect accompaniment to a relaxing night at home with a bottle of wine. “The Creek Drank the Cradle” fulfills the promise of all the songs-for-love-making infomercials. It is soulful and honest in all of its bare-boned qualities.

Sam Beam’s Iron and Wine is an authentic reproduction of early 20th century folk and blues. It is minimalist in its approach, providing finger-plucked guitars, blurred and slurred vocals, and the occasional banjo and slide guitar. “The Creek Drank the Cradle” transports you to a riverside front porch somewhere in the south. It is hard not to picture Mr. Beam sitting there on the porch in cuffed overalls and bare feet.

Even the recording has a live feel to it, filling the speakers with the trebly screech of finger slides and the warm hum of an empty room, which can only be produced so well through lo-fi four track recordings.

This AM radio favorite is already working its way into becoming a classic in its own rite. This album would fit perfectly in with the “Down from the Mountain” group inspired by the making of “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?”

Iron and Wine is an ode to an America long forgotten. Walking in the footsteps of Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen, and Alan Lomax, Sam Beam’s debut record is a rarity in today’s music market. It humbly reminds the listener of simpler days and ways, a root, which David Bazan seemed to originally be taking Pedro the Lion.

When all is said and done, Sam Beam may be one of the only people left today making true American music. His songs are constructed in basic blues formulas with well-done overdubbed harmonies that further warm up the sound of the album.

On such a fluid and welcoming album, each song stands well as a whole, or on its own. Overall, though, the two best songs on the album would have to be “Upward over the Mountain,” and “An Angry Blade.”

the long goodbye

“This album is somewhere in between 10,000 Maniacs and the Counting Crows. It’s early- to mid-’90s pop that makes everything seem carefree and all right. It sounds like the soundtrack to a fun modern musical. It’s the kind of music that makes old people dance weird at social functions. For the rest of us, it’s just relaxing and uplifting. High points: Great music to use as an escape. Low points: Makes you wonder where Natalie Merchant is at when you need her.”

(the ep)

‘From Cap’n Jazz to Joan of Arc to American Football and now to Owen, Mike Kinsella has been stripping away layers of music – and band members – with each successive recording.

Mike, the Kinsella brother buried a bit back in the shadows, has full reign over Owen, his solo project. And, to be honest, living behind Tim Kinsella may have had some psychological effect on his craft. It can be argued that his work is the inverse of Tim’s, an attempt to counterbalance their styles. Where Tim is tangential, Mike is linear; when Tim screams, Mike croons lightly; as Tim builds, Mike breaks down.

His is a different ray of the spectrum.

Make Believe, Tim’s new band, is a foray into the younger, wilder days of his punk roots. Owen, on the other hand, could be considered singer/songwriter, if the genre did not have such negative connotations attached to it. Guitars sweep in and quietly disappear. The drums crescendo and pause. Mike’s sweet and sullen voice is the focus of this record. It crackles a little, but that only adds more warmth to his tone.

During the album, he even gives a direct nod to Tim. It’s at this point that it becomes clear that he is not in the shadows by accident. This is where he feels most comfortable. He comes, he sings, he leaves. End of story. No point to draw it out or draw attention to himself. It’s the “if-this-affects-just-one-person” syndrome.

the power out

‘Pick a language, any language. French? You got it. German? No problem. Spanish? Consider it done. It’s hard to find a tongue that Electrelane does not utilize on “The Power Out,” their sophomore release.

To top it off, many of the foreign languages portrayed on this record serve as “dedications” of one sort or another. “Oh Sombra!” for instance, is a poem by Spanish writer Juan Bosc?n. “This Deed” is a direct quote from Nietzsche’s “The Gay Science.”

The word smarmy comes to mind. So do the words pompous, arrogant and self-righteous. Electrelane comes off as intelligent for the sake of showing off; independent for the sake of being trendy.

The lyrics that have actually been penned by the band belong to one Verity Susman. Sure, Verity. Was that your parent-given name? Really? What a coincidence! Mine was Ubi Ubi Sub Ubi.

Ahem. There’s a little Latin humor for you folks.rnrnCreepiest song on the album: “The Valleys.” The harmonies of the male choir are just too much to handle. After a good twenty or so listens to this record, making it through this song once is still an improbable task. It is not what you’d expect from a project Steve Albini touched.

The lyrics of this song are taken from a poem as well. Big surprise, right?

Once beyond the unctuous nature of this record, “The Power Out” lends itself to catchy Euro-synth beats and melodies. A simple pop record hides beneath the demeanor of pseudo-sophisticates. If it is possible to separate the songs from the air they give off, this will be an enjoyable record.

For fans of record-shop employees, martini-party ambience and hip diner waitresses – a phrase applicable only in the greater Denver area.

http://www.urbandictionary.com

‘It’s back to school time, kids, and that means one thing: you’ve got to be up on the latest slang, fo’ shizzle.

Of course, people are concerned about sporting the latest gear and being the most fashionable, but appearance will only take you so far. After you make your grand entrance, at some point you will have to enter a conversation. If you have yet to comprehend the latest Snoop Dogg or Eminem lyrics, you might find yourself behind the times. Some might say that’s “whack,” but, come on, that expression is so 15 minutes ago.

What better way to be down is there than to prove that you are up on the most recent jargon? So, let UrbanDictionary.com be your friend.

This site will let you search definitions by either name or category. It also offers a list of the most frequently searched words. Since the definitions are user submitted, you can add a new word or add a definition to a preexisting one. This way, the terms stay fresh and the definitions can be constantly updated.

The structure of this site does have its downside, though. Immature visitors to UrbanDictionary.com seem to have a tendency to create numerous synonyms for words such as breasts, sex, and semen. Everybody’s a comedian. Very few are actually funny, though.

At times, you may have to wade through the crap and through the nonsensical words to find what you want but, as of now, it’s the best site on the Internet that will give you a better understanding of slang terminology. So, unless you know the D-o-double-gizzle personally, this is the way to go.

the ugly organ

‘”Yeah we all know art is hard,” screams Tim Kasher on “Art is Hard,” Cursive’s first single off of their newest album, “The Ugly Organ.” Yet, they make it look so easy.

Well, it looks easy if you cast aside the fact that this full-length included Kasher’s collapsed lung, the looming shadow of the success of “Domestica,” a new-ish member, two new instruments, one of which is such a dissonant “ugly organ” that it makes Stravinsky and Bartok’s atonal works look like they could have been penned by Collective Soul.

Of course, there is also more tongue-in-cheek cynicism packed into every song for that extra burst of flavor.

The intellectual edge and self-satirizing lyrics have always been constants in the Cursive formula, though. It’s what they do best. The band has an uncanny ability to come off as deceptively pedestrian and it isn’t until upon further review that you realize just how deep the lyrics go. This surface compatibility makes their music accessible on numerous levels.

“The Ugly Organ” exudes talent and capability, proving just how far Cursive can take their music. It also shows just how much the band has grown and matured and how the members have all coalesced into one completely functional, utilitarian unit. At this point, they can probably churn out head-turning songs at record pace. There are no more boundaries, no more walls for this newly evolved band. The whole rock world has become their stomping ground.

The band was more appealing, to bastardize a J. Lo line, when they were just Cursive from the block.

While “The Ugly Organ” is, on paper, the ideal next step for Cursive, perhaps their own “Kid A,” in practice, it is missing something. It is missing the virility and vitality of youth and inexperience, the ingredient that “Domestica” was made of, and still “Burst and Bloom” clung on to in its opening tracks.

On both of those releases, Kasher’s signature scream and the band’s forceful progressions continued around every progression’s corner with you. It was expected and rarely failed to deliver. It was so forceful, even in the most down-tempo of songs, that it was impenetrable. It was a solid wall of sound that gave the otherwise laidback band the energy of a hardcore punk band.

Still, “The Ugly Organ” is an impressive work. Like “Kid A,” it should be looked at and admired on occasion. It should be hung up in some art gallery for musicianship, because it is, in every respect, a work of art.

That being said, “Domestica” is the album you want in your car, something to scream along to, while drivers in the passing lane stare at you wondering just what is wrong with you.