Here's what we got in the office today:
Suit of Lights-Bacteria
Shiloh-Children of the Interstate
Maggie Seligman-Rubato
Clara Berry-Wave
Impediments-Self-titled
The Femurs-Ride Together EP
Josh Kennedy- Varnishing Day
Dave Daniels- Just Like Ghosts
If Your Hands Were Metal That Would Mean Something- The People In Sync
Alan Cohen Experience- Eat the Peace
A Hawk and a Hacksaw-Deliverance
Davis Coen-Magnolia Land
Robots of Fury- Reverse in Reverse
Greg Foresman-Kodiak
Audrey Ryan- I Know, I Know
Jahdan Blakkamoore- Buzzrock Warrior
July 10, 2009
Buildings Breeding: Sweet Velcro Hooks
Words by Robbie Hilson; Photo by Jocelyn McGregor
“We were on a bum trip that show because we had to go last,” says Buildings Breeding singer and guitarist Christapher Larsen, defending a better-than-he-thinks mid-summer gig in San Francisco. Apologies to Mr. Larsen for the mental eye-rolling, but his band will have to get used to waiting around. This is, after all, what headliners do.
Then again, patience doesn’t rank very high on the virtues scale when you’re a touring band on the brink, and so all things dear to the Sacramento natives – from classic three-minute pop songs to zinging on-stage one-liners courtesy of drummer and de facto joke teller Melanie Glover – cut straight to the point. “In our band, there’s not a lot of room to noodle around,” Larsen says. “It’s a nice idea to just stick to what you want to get across.”
True to form, Buildings Breeding’s latest release, In the Key of Calloused Fingers, mines short-‘n-sweet territory, zipping along on nimble melody-driven ditties that further the humble sounds of 1960s pop and bedroom listening. It’s all catchy, all concise – qualities one might expect from an outfit that counts the Beach Boys and early T-Rex among its many influences. “You don’t have to be this mega rock force,” Larsen says, confident in the subtle power of songs like “Pitter Patter” and “Leaving Out the Punch.”
Of course, there’s nothing at all subtle about “Beesting.” Grounded in cocktail lounge grooves, beehive hairdos, and a diffuse guitar line somehow escaped from Yo La Tengo’s I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One, the track’s martini-sipping riff spars with a breezy, foottapping chorus in an epic struggle for cool supremacy. “Beesting” also highlights the group’s airy vocal delivery, a track-by-track tradeoff between the soft, higher pitch of Larsen and the whispered hush of Glover. During rare moments of striking union, as in the ethereal chorus of “History,” the two voices become one, forming a breathy guy-girl purr, conjoined at the hip in harmony. It’s a rare kind of connection, and one that plays out on stage.
While the tunes aren’t always tight in a live setting – “There’s a charm to being sloppy,” says Larsen – the relationships certainly are. “Most of the time people can just tell that we like to be around each other,” he adds, citing the big-family dynamic of Sonic Youth as both reference and inspiration.
Still, if we’re making noise band comparisons (the similarities are few), My Bloody Valentine hits closer to home, especially in light of Calloused Fingers' two-pronged melodies and unexpectedly sturdy electric tones. “Polish Barely Holds,” for instance, hums along on the same subdued crunch that drives MBV’s “Sometimes.” Clocking in at a transient 73 seconds, the song would make nothing more than an early-album interlude if not for lead guitarist Kevin Dockter’s swirling solo introducing the final refrain. This is the kind of quirk that makes Buildings Breeding a tiny thing to cherish. Sweetly inviting upon first listen, alluring with repeat play, their canon of fleeting pop treasures at once delivers hooks adorned in Velcro. Each sticks: the spunky, pseudo-surf groove propelling “Skyline,” the fragile inflections lifting the chorus of “Youth Is All That’s Left,” and Chris Vogel’s creeping bass line haunting the starry-eyed “Emmawood.”
Perhaps these charms are a product of a predictably lean, bang-it-out approach. “I’ve always been a firm believer that if you work a song to death, you’ll hear it in the recording,” says Vogel of in-studio efficiency. “If the song just happens to come out in one or two takes, you’re going to totally get the magic that happened in that moment.”
And the moment is what this band is all about. “We were kind of waiting for it to come to us before,” Larsen admits. “Right now we’re more inclined to seek it out.” Already they’ve scorched the CMJ charts with their debut, landed a song on MTV’s Human Giant, and most importantly, won over a tough local crowd. Says Larsen, “I think we realized the other night that we might have broken into the scene because we played last and there were just as many people as there were in the beginning.” No surprise here – as with everything else Buildings Breeding, it was all just a matter of time.
Mr. Brown
Mr. Brown Poetry
Mr. Brown Poetry
Savannah, GA
Recorded at AWOL Inc. studio | Produced by Alex
Goose of The Big Up | Additional production by
Nick Stein and DJ Trademark | Recorded and
mixed by Kid Syc | Additional recording and
mixing by Nick Stein and DJ Valis
Mid-20s, smartmouthed, free-associative, and unabashedly candid, this Savannah MC has a lot of what it takes to be a good Southern rapper. His rigid, percussive flow, paired with a frictionless diction, gives the impression his eyes don’t stray far from his book of rhymes, though, which separates him some from the free-flowing Southern mindset. That is not to say that Brown is lacking soul, but that the soul takes flight less in his delivery and more in his words.
Lively verses like, “My hunger pains won’t go away, it seems like I’m getting sicker/That must be why I’m spittin bars like I’m throwin up Snickers,” contrast with “They made cement with my dreams/ They’re not gonna be laughin when I’m smashin it” for a broad emotional spectrum. In “Plan Your Escape,” Brown laments a lost love, and earlier on “Be Here a Minute,” he raps about his relationship with Hip-Hop personified, a veritable lyrical rite of passage for any stern-worded MC.
He chides other rappers for their “redundant rhymes and unjustified verses,” stepping dangerously close to the stereotypical underground sermonizer, but falls back on lighthearted, jocular banter, stating his mantra, “they say the key to balance is moderation,” on one of the album’s strongest tracks, “The Right Amount.”
Behind the verses lay clean beats, with production duties shared by DJ Trademark, Kid Syc and Alex Goose. Soulful vocal and horn samples flow over simple drum patterns and sampled bass lines to set a very rapper-accessible scene for the debuting artist. By album’s end, Brown is exhausted, admitting that “even though I’m here I already feel like I’m gone.” Enlightening, but distressful all the same for such a young MC.
Look for a full length to drop sometime next year, and his crew Union of Sacred Monsters’ upcoming collaborative EP out this year.
-Jake Schnaidt
myspace.com/mrbrownpoetry
Recorded at AWOL Inc. studio | Produced by Alex
Goose of The Big Up | Additional production by
Nick Stein and DJ Trademark | Recorded and
mixed by Kid Syc | Additional recording and
mixing by Nick Stein and DJ Valis
Mid-20s, smartmouthed, free-associative, and unabashedly candid, this Savannah MC has a lot of what it takes to be a good Southern rapper. His rigid, percussive flow, paired with a frictionless diction, gives the impression his eyes don’t stray far from his book of rhymes, though, which separates him some from the free-flowing Southern mindset. That is not to say that Brown is lacking soul, but that the soul takes flight less in his delivery and more in his words.
Lively verses like, “My hunger pains won’t go away, it seems like I’m getting sicker/That must be why I’m spittin bars like I’m throwin up Snickers,” contrast with “They made cement with my dreams/ They’re not gonna be laughin when I’m smashin it” for a broad emotional spectrum. In “Plan Your Escape,” Brown laments a lost love, and earlier on “Be Here a Minute,” he raps about his relationship with Hip-Hop personified, a veritable lyrical rite of passage for any stern-worded MC.
He chides other rappers for their “redundant rhymes and unjustified verses,” stepping dangerously close to the stereotypical underground sermonizer, but falls back on lighthearted, jocular banter, stating his mantra, “they say the key to balance is moderation,” on one of the album’s strongest tracks, “The Right Amount.”
Behind the verses lay clean beats, with production duties shared by DJ Trademark, Kid Syc and Alex Goose. Soulful vocal and horn samples flow over simple drum patterns and sampled bass lines to set a very rapper-accessible scene for the debuting artist. By album’s end, Brown is exhausted, admitting that “even though I’m here I already feel like I’m gone.” Enlightening, but distressful all the same for such a young MC.
Look for a full length to drop sometime next year, and his crew Union of Sacred Monsters’ upcoming collaborative EP out this year.
-Jake Schnaidt
myspace.com/mrbrownpoetry
Letters & Numbers
Cat’s Game
Cat’s Game
San Francisco, CA
Engineered by Bruce Foster
Cat’s Game is the first release for indie-folk aficionado Letters & Numbers of TrackRecords. Nicholas Haughton’s semi-acoustic project features songs ranging fromthrowback Americana to exquisitely produced lo-fi pop. What’s more impressive is that he played almost every single instrument on the record. Musically, the songs are reminiscent of early Bright Eyes; vocally, Haughton draws comparisons to Weakerthans frontman John Samson; and lyrically, he channels the straightforward yet complex styling of The Mountain Goats. From start to finish, the album is full of intense metaphors, while remaining brutally honest. Honesty is something Haughton seems to pride himself on. He puts his heart on his sleeve, as evident by the track “Buying my Blues.” In this song, he admits he’s trying to sell his music, but essentially what he’s selling is his honesty, passion, trust, lies, failures and shortcomings. The song seamlessly transitions to the next track, “Paradiso Et Canto,” which also serves as the standout track on the record. It’s a classic story song about a love interest, but the music seems to vividly paint a picture of the scenes being described.
Most acoustic records have their down tracks. Although Cat’s Game has its moments of less than stellar execution of the musical style Letters & Numbers decided to churn out, the majority of the record flows in a streamlined manner for Haughton to channel his idols. “Unbelievable Sound” seems like something that could have come off one of the departed Elliot Smith’s earlier records. Of the rest of the album’s tracks, “In Reverie” seems to be the song where Haughton’s playful personality shines. The simple acoustic lines erupt into a powerful explosion of both musical and lyrical intensity.
The final track on the record is an epic, titled “Phantasmagoria.” The song’s progression shows the potential genius at work in Haughton’s mind. Letters & Numbers is a fresh light illuminating the singer-songwriter scene today. This artist’s enormous potential rests with his complex lyrical structures, mixed with his burgeoning musical ability. When the final track ends, you’re left wanting more, and isn’t that what you want from a first offering? (Track Records)
-Albert Opraseuth
myspace.com/lettersandnumbersmusic
-Albert Opraseuth
myspace.com/lettersandnumbersmusic
July 9, 2009
Shooting an Elephant - The Finest in Hip-Hop Beef
Relying on Fox News to deliver the freshest in new music is like trusting Dick Cheney to invade Iraq with the best interests of its people in mind. But if you're that musically bankrupt, and you happened to check out Mike Huckabee's Fox News show a few weeks back, you might have caught the most insulting knee to hip-hop's balls since the 1985 Chicago Bears' “Super Bowl Shuffle.”
Straight from the slums of Dartmouth College come the Young Cons, two khakis and blue-blazer wearing sycophants taking aim at the “obamatrons” whose “ideas are lightweight” and careers are “in checkmate.” Yes, “cons” as in “conservatives.” Their flow is backed up like septic and their knowledge comes out of a Dick and Jane version of Republican talking points. Most likely attempting to fast-track their way into punditry, I'm sure they're unaware of the repugnant irony in co-opting a street-born culture, regurgitating it to fit their ignorant philosophies, and flippantly slapping slang like “con” – which more realistically refers to the one in nine black men aged 20 to 34 who are locked up or the 32 percent of black men born in 2001 who will do time in prison at some point during their lives.
Enter the Ol' Dirty Needle chamber, a/k/a Chris Faraone, a/k/a Fara1, a/k/a Goldman Sack, staff writer at the Boston Phoenix alt-weekly and human hip-hop encyclopedia. Until this point, ODN's MC career consisted of inebriated late-night freestyle cyphers and a half-joking appearance at one of Bloody Bean boom-bap mogul Edu Leedz's rap battles. But this obamatron can write like Al Franken smoking Eazy-E's dust (he's currently penning his city-by-city underground hip-hop scene travel book, tentatively titled Notes from the Underground).
Once Needle heard the Young Cons' “Young Con Anthem,” he ditched the work in front of him and started scribing. Lines like “My conservative view is drill baby drill / you can say you hate me but I'm praying for you still” and “Superman that socialism / Waterboard that terrorism” couldn't go unanswered. He originally tried spitting over the “Nas Is Like” DJ Premier beat, but realized it and many other classic joints were far too fast for his skills. Going through his instrumental collection, he settled on Eminem's Dr. Dre-produced “Just Don't Give a Fuck” for his “Shooting An Elephant (a/k/a Fuck the Young Cons).”
“This isn't about stooping to their level,” says Needle. “This is about diving into the abyss beyond that. The right-wing Fox News demographic doesn't respond to facts and reality. Maybe a bit of hyperactive hyperbole will get them squirming.” While the Young Cons stay true to their name and keep it clean, Needle full-on unloads the clip with f-bombs, sperm shots and church-steeple shanks.
“And fuck your game of chess / I 'll put RZA to the test / And bring ruckus like Wu-Tang up in that double breast.”
Though his rhymes slay and his references are impeccable (check the shout-out to Nas' invincible Jay-Z diss, “Ether”), Needles readily admits his weakness in flow. But that's not the point. He had to do it. “I'm incredibly aware that any decent MC could have done this better, but no decent MC would subject themselves to such a task,” ODN says.
“Wack Ivy League phonies / Don't tangle with Faraone-y / Not a Clinton fan / But you sure as hell can blow me.”
Needle's video, directed by Matt Abramson, toys with liberal stereotypes and features him in front of Starbucks, tossing a bottle in a recycling bin, and bouncing on a trampoline (?). Staying true to hip-hop's roots, unlike the Young Cons disaster, it slings gunplay, train tracks and weed smoke.
“Don't retreat to Nantucket / Man, fuck it / I catch your oyster ass out there and just straight up fuckin' shuck it.”
If this is the beginning of the beef, Needle says he'd rather hear a diss track from Dick Cheney in response. “He's Suge Knight without the rap sheet,” he says.
-By Nate Leskovic
Straight from the slums of Dartmouth College come the Young Cons, two khakis and blue-blazer wearing sycophants taking aim at the “obamatrons” whose “ideas are lightweight” and careers are “in checkmate.” Yes, “cons” as in “conservatives.” Their flow is backed up like septic and their knowledge comes out of a Dick and Jane version of Republican talking points. Most likely attempting to fast-track their way into punditry, I'm sure they're unaware of the repugnant irony in co-opting a street-born culture, regurgitating it to fit their ignorant philosophies, and flippantly slapping slang like “con” – which more realistically refers to the one in nine black men aged 20 to 34 who are locked up or the 32 percent of black men born in 2001 who will do time in prison at some point during their lives.
Enter the Ol' Dirty Needle chamber, a/k/a Chris Faraone, a/k/a Fara1, a/k/a Goldman Sack, staff writer at the Boston Phoenix alt-weekly and human hip-hop encyclopedia. Until this point, ODN's MC career consisted of inebriated late-night freestyle cyphers and a half-joking appearance at one of Bloody Bean boom-bap mogul Edu Leedz's rap battles. But this obamatron can write like Al Franken smoking Eazy-E's dust (he's currently penning his city-by-city underground hip-hop scene travel book, tentatively titled Notes from the Underground).
Once Needle heard the Young Cons' “Young Con Anthem,” he ditched the work in front of him and started scribing. Lines like “My conservative view is drill baby drill / you can say you hate me but I'm praying for you still” and “Superman that socialism / Waterboard that terrorism” couldn't go unanswered. He originally tried spitting over the “Nas Is Like” DJ Premier beat, but realized it and many other classic joints were far too fast for his skills. Going through his instrumental collection, he settled on Eminem's Dr. Dre-produced “Just Don't Give a Fuck” for his “Shooting An Elephant (a/k/a Fuck the Young Cons).”
“This isn't about stooping to their level,” says Needle. “This is about diving into the abyss beyond that. The right-wing Fox News demographic doesn't respond to facts and reality. Maybe a bit of hyperactive hyperbole will get them squirming.” While the Young Cons stay true to their name and keep it clean, Needle full-on unloads the clip with f-bombs, sperm shots and church-steeple shanks.
“And fuck your game of chess / I 'll put RZA to the test / And bring ruckus like Wu-Tang up in that double breast.”
Though his rhymes slay and his references are impeccable (check the shout-out to Nas' invincible Jay-Z diss, “Ether”), Needles readily admits his weakness in flow. But that's not the point. He had to do it. “I'm incredibly aware that any decent MC could have done this better, but no decent MC would subject themselves to such a task,” ODN says.
“Wack Ivy League phonies / Don't tangle with Faraone-y / Not a Clinton fan / But you sure as hell can blow me.”
Needle's video, directed by Matt Abramson, toys with liberal stereotypes and features him in front of Starbucks, tossing a bottle in a recycling bin, and bouncing on a trampoline (?). Staying true to hip-hop's roots, unlike the Young Cons disaster, it slings gunplay, train tracks and weed smoke.
“Don't retreat to Nantucket / Man, fuck it / I catch your oyster ass out there and just straight up fuckin' shuck it.”
If this is the beginning of the beef, Needle says he'd rather hear a diss track from Dick Cheney in response. “He's Suge Knight without the rap sheet,” he says.
-By Nate Leskovic
The High Strung
Ode to the Inverse of the Dude
Ode to the Inverse of the Dude
Detroit, MI
Produced, recorded and mixed by David Newfield
at Stars and Suns
No band works harder or tours longer than Motor City’s High Strung. This isn’t a ham-handed usage either – they truly deserve the “hardest working artist” crown. The High Strung is a true work horse: touring no less than 300 days a year while artfully leaping forward on each album and oozing critical praise like upscale cuisine. Yet the band remains largely unrecognized (possibly because trio indie rock already had its day).
Produced by David Newfield (Broken Social Scene, Los Campensinos), Ode to the Inverse… maintains the band’s early urgent guitar strides and trademark fidgety vocals, with Newfield waving his wand and adding complex flourishes and a litany of instrumental innovation. Busy acoustic guitar strums, lyrical bass (in the tradition of Broken Social Scene), elegant synths and kaleidoscopic rhythm injects the once-reductionist indie rock trio into monolithic ensemble.
With “Standing at the Door of Self-Discovery,” the album begins ironically with a choir singing, “Standing at the door of self-discovery/Where the air is cold/the feelings are old/but you reconsider them” – a foretelling indication that something completely strange and new is about to happen. From there, the album wanders into a series of songs that explore vocal diversity, textural rhythm, experimental hooks and walls of sound. Singer Josh Malerman’s characteristic tone leads the charge, with quirkiness in check and reflective charm: “Give me one second where I’m out of character/Give me one moment where I’m not the same” (“Out of Character”).
Ode to the Inverse… sparkles with buoyant optimism and makes for a grand escape from throwback garage punk. This is the ambitious paradigm shift The High Strung has been itching for. The album has complexity and multidimensional interest that’ll give the most dubious indie rock fan a revision to their 2009 top 10 list. (Park the Van Records)
-Christopher Petro
myspace.com/thehighstrung
Produced, recorded and mixed by David Newfield
at Stars and Suns
No band works harder or tours longer than Motor City’s High Strung. This isn’t a ham-handed usage either – they truly deserve the “hardest working artist” crown. The High Strung is a true work horse: touring no less than 300 days a year while artfully leaping forward on each album and oozing critical praise like upscale cuisine. Yet the band remains largely unrecognized (possibly because trio indie rock already had its day).
Produced by David Newfield (Broken Social Scene, Los Campensinos), Ode to the Inverse… maintains the band’s early urgent guitar strides and trademark fidgety vocals, with Newfield waving his wand and adding complex flourishes and a litany of instrumental innovation. Busy acoustic guitar strums, lyrical bass (in the tradition of Broken Social Scene), elegant synths and kaleidoscopic rhythm injects the once-reductionist indie rock trio into monolithic ensemble.
With “Standing at the Door of Self-Discovery,” the album begins ironically with a choir singing, “Standing at the door of self-discovery/Where the air is cold/the feelings are old/but you reconsider them” – a foretelling indication that something completely strange and new is about to happen. From there, the album wanders into a series of songs that explore vocal diversity, textural rhythm, experimental hooks and walls of sound. Singer Josh Malerman’s characteristic tone leads the charge, with quirkiness in check and reflective charm: “Give me one second where I’m out of character/Give me one moment where I’m not the same” (“Out of Character”).
Ode to the Inverse… sparkles with buoyant optimism and makes for a grand escape from throwback garage punk. This is the ambitious paradigm shift The High Strung has been itching for. The album has complexity and multidimensional interest that’ll give the most dubious indie rock fan a revision to their 2009 top 10 list. (Park the Van Records)
-Christopher Petro
myspace.com/thehighstrung
Haziq Ali
Business is Good
Business is Good
Atlanta, GA /Washington, DC
Haziq Ali is a dual-city MC who claims both Atlanta and Washington, DC as his stomping grounds. He was the recipient of the “Icon of the Underground” award in 2005 from the Atlanta Underground Awards and is on a quest to take ownership of the hip-hop crown. With his recent release, Business is Good, Haziq has crafted a sensational indie hip-hop album full of intelligent rhymes, quick quips, catchy hooks and a hint of pop sensibility.
The record opens with the titular track, “Buisness is Good,” where he boldly claims in the first line, “I had a dream about God and he looked just like me.” This valorous statement sets the tone for the rest of the record. All too often lyricists don’t have the intellect or wit to back up their claims; however, Haziq Ali has the tools by the truckload. The second track, “Godspeed,” is a mission statement of sorts for him. He sends his message out over a beat that evokes an image of the MC giving a speech to his followers about his journey and future.
Throughout the record the lyrics draw you into the songs, but the beats keep you locked onto the message. He’s one of those rare rhyme slingers who can take a song, listen to the beat, and craft his words to augment or take the mood in a contradictory direction. On “Mash Up,” the somewhat depressing and ominous beat is accentuated by a story that’s uplifting and inspiring. Songs like “On Point,” “There He Goes Again…,” “Freedom,” and “Used To Be Like” are the paramount tracks and examples of Haziq at his lyrical heights.
Although most of his material is deep and thoughtful, Haziq still falls into some of the traps and fallacies some relatively unknown rappers get into: spitting about some of the same cliché topics — girls, money, the quest for power and flaunting the spoils of “the game” — inasmuch as one wordsmith can without commercial success. However, the overwhelming majority of the record is a fresh surprise, with some sweet live instrument tracks peppered throughout. A minor note: Some of the production quality on the record is less than stellar; however, at times it serves its purpose of complementing his indie/ underground sound. This release should definitely take Haziq to the next level and overall it is solid as titanium steel. (Organized Rhyme LLC)
-Albert Opraseuth
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