Produced in part with Kelly Deal of the Breeders and Pixies, Protomartyr‘s four-song EP, Consolation, packs more punch than many double albums in the punk, post-punk, neo-rock, or alt-rock genres.
The opening squall of “Wait” is like the sound of the gates opening at the Kentucky Derby, and the band are four horses running in peak form. Vocalist Joe Casey growls, yells, and snarls while drummer Alex Leonard seems to put down four different beats at once.
“Same Face in a Different Mirror” would be a great title for a giallo film from the 1970’s, and Greg Ahee‘s opening guitar riff is indeed creepy enough for a stylish Italian slasher film. It’s like Protomartyr put Joy Division, Editors, and Bauhaus in a juicer and extracted the micronutrients from all three for one track.
The last two tracks feature Ms. Deal on backing vocals. The first is “Wheel of Fortune,” and it’s easily one of the best tracks of the year. It comes out swinging, not giving you much time to breathe in the first minute before it breaks down into something that sounds like the soundtrack from a ghost film. Casey’s vocals slowly rise from the ground (lifted by Scott Davidson‘s fine bass work), unleashing some of his inner NickCave before the band kicks down the door. Davidson’s bass walk opens “You Always Win” and Casey sings about a troubled relationship he can’t bring himself to leave while Ahee’s guitar shoegaze riffs are subtle and stunning at the same time and Leonard unleashes a quick drum solo, which are sorely missing from rock nowadays.
Consolation is sharp as a knife and one of the better EP releases of 2018, so don’t skip it.
Mexico’s Le Bucherettes manage to combine psychedelia, garage rock, snotty punk, and disco fever all into one band. Their third album, A Raw Youth, covers everything from pre-2016 election anxiety to serial killers.
“Shave the Pride” gets it off to a loud, wild start with lead singer Terri Gender Bender belting out lyrics about anger and arrogance (“The size of your rage drowns my urge for lovin’.”). “Mallely” has the disco synths of Jamie Aaron Aux and the powerful drumming of Chris Common throwing you into dance fits. “Reason to Die Young” has Gender Bender claiming there’s “no sign of life in this hell hole,” but her assured vocals feel reassuring. Her Iggy Pop influence can’t be denied in her vocals and stage presence, and it’s in full view on “La Uva” (“The Grape”) in which Pop sings guest vocals with her. It’s a wild, Pixies-like track with its ebb and flow of volume and controlled, distorted chaos. “Sold Less Than Gold” is a lyrically brutal song about child slavery that’s almost disguised as a pop song with its bright synths.
“Stab My Back” is a giant middle finger to a man who once tried to keep Bender down. It’s like a Yeah Yeah Yeahs song combined with a kick in the nuts. “They Fuck You Over” has Bender drawing a line in the sand against the 1% (“‘Winners’ never touch skins. They know how to eat like bulldogs. They fuck you over…I try to manage this game by doing the worst that I can.”).
“Witchles C Spot” is a bold, almost Metric-like tune about toxic love, fetish sex, and obsession. It’s sexy, scary, and sinister all at once. “The Hitch Hiker” is about a serial killer, and might be an ode to the 1986 film The Hitcher. “Lonely & Drunk” is a powerful build up of synths, drums, and weird bass as Bender’s vocals slither out of your speakers as she sings about bad decisions made during bad times. The bizarre title of “Oil the Shoe if the Critter Knew Any Better” is perfect for the weird lyrics about ghosts, eating your vegetables, and how screwed up a relationship can be if one doesn’t face fears. The closer, “My Half,” is a warped song about love and possibly Bender’s Electra complex with guest guitar and synth-bass work by John Frusciante.
It’s a wild, weird record. Le Bucherettes were on my list of bands to investigate for a while, and I’m glad I finally got around to it. You should, too.
Coming in with possibly the wittiest album title of the year (Future Me Hates Me), New Zealand’s the Beths show up with some much-needed pop-punk and joie de vivre right now.
The fun fuzz that opens “Get No One” is somehow topped by the delightful rhythm guitar that follows it. You’re tapping your feet right away and wanting to blast the album’s opener out of your car as soon as possible. The title track is as fun as you’d hoped it would be as lead singer Elizabeth Stokes tells us about how she’s setting herself up for “future heartbreak, future headaches,” but she’s still going through with a relationship. “Uptown Girl” isn’t a cover of the Billy Joel song (although I’m sure they’d have fun with that), but it is a raucous salute to partying all night and the aftermath that often brings.
“You Wouldn’t Like Me” has Stokes warning a potential lover about the hazards of dating her. “You wouldn’t like me if you saw what was inside me,” she sings, but the peppy nature of the song leads us to believe that was she thinks are faults are in reality charms. “Not Running” has an urgent energy to it (despite the title) with Jonathan Pearce‘s guitars constantly moving forward and not looking back.
“Little Death” is a rocker about orgasms. “Happy Unhappy” has Stokes both lamenting and loving the start of a new relationship and how its going to break her out of her comfortable rut. “River Run: Lvl 1” might refer to a video game I’ve never played, but the theme of a lovers’ game seems to run through the whole tune. The groovy grooves, rock anthem drums (by Ivan Luketina-Johnston) and vocal harmonies of “Whatever” make it one of the catchiest tracks of 2018 (and I love the subtly heavy bass by Benjamin Sinclair on it). The album ends with “Less Than Thou,” another love song in which Stokes gets in her own way when it comes to love, but powers through it with shining guitars and happy beats.
Future Hates Me is one of the peppiest and most clever albums of the year. It’s a perfect summer rock record, or a perfect record for breaking your winter blues if you’re in New Zealand this time of year.
Keep your mind open.
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It was a grey night. Rain had been falling. My wife was on the phone with her boss and trying to sort out work drama that had been bothering both of them for a week. She and the whole Ft. Wayne area, it seemed, needed a boost of love and fun. They got it from the Flaming Lipsand Le Bucherettesat Ft. Wayne’s Clyde Theatre on August 16th.
My wife had never been to a Flaming Lips show. All I told her was that it would be wild and there would be balloons and confetti. I didn’t want to spoil anything for her.
We walked in just at the start of Le Bucherettes’ set. I’d heard of them somewhere before and made a note to check out their stuff, and this was my first full exposure to their work. It was a wild mix of psychedelia and art punk fronted by a wild Latina (Le Bucherettes hail from Mexico) who seemed to be the child of Iggy Pop and Poly Styrene after they’d had sex in an Aztec temple. They threw down a wild set that even had Wayne Coyne from the Flaming Lips crouching at stage right to take photos of them. My wife and I thought they needed to play next year’s Levitation Music Festival in Austin. They’d fit in perfectly there, and we picked up their last album at the merch table not long after their set.
Le Bucherettes
The beginning of the Flaming Lips’ set began with their cover of “Also Sprach Zarathustra” and then “Race for the Prize” off The Soft Bulletin, which included the following (of course):
My wife was already grinning by this point, and the grin never left her face the entire night. She laughed in disbelief at the giant inflatable robot that stood at center stage over Wayne Coyne during “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” – which Coyne described as a song not just about a young, female Japanese karate master fighting evil robots, but more about “Your friend who tells you they’re going to do something impossible, but they don’t know it’s impossible, and instead of you telling them it’s impossible, you tell them…Yoshimi you won’t let those robots defeat me.”
“Fight Test” is always a welcome addition to their sets, and the “Golden Throat” microphone version of the national anthem was a weird treat. This show was the first time I heard “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song” as well as “The Castle,” which Wayne Coyne described as a sad song, but it doesn’t feel overwhelmingly sad when he sings it. It still sounds hopeful to me.
“The Castle”
Coyne then put on rainbow wings and jumped on a light-up unicorn that was pulled through the audience while he sang “There Should Be Unicorns,” which took on a near deep-house beat and feel live. It’s cool on Oczy Mlody, but it’s better live.
They busted out “She Don’t Use Jelly,” which was well-received by the crowd (and was one I’d hoped they’d play), and “The Captain” after that. There was a small temporary stage in the middle of the crowd, and I figured it was for when Coyne stepped into a giant plastic sphere and crowd surfed to it during their cover of “Space Oddity.” I’d seen him do it at the inaugural Middle Waves Music Festival two years earlier. I was right, and my wife, a big Bowie fan, nearly cried when she realized what song was coming.
They wrapped up the set with “How??”, “Are You a Hypnotist?”, “The W.A.N.D.”, and “A Spoonful Weighs a Ton” before coming back for “Do You Realize?”
“That made me happy,” my wife said afterwards. “I needed that.”
It’s easy to forget that Jailbreak was Thin Lizzy‘s sixth album because Jailbreak was their commercial breakthrough and is so good that it often overshadows some of their earlier work.
The title track kicks off the album, and it’s essentially a line in the sand for every rock album that came after it. If you’re a rock band currently practicing in a garage or basement, you need to hear “Jailbreak” and realize that you had better come up with an opener with as much fire as this or your band is already doomed. Good luck with that, by the way, because matching the crunchy groove of it is nearly impossible. The groove on “Angel of the Coast” is almost as jaw-dropping. Drummer Brian Downey doesn’t screw around on this or any other track. The slight bluesy sound of “Running Back” (with nice keyboard additions by Tim Hinkley) is a nice switch-up by the band.
The way Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson‘s guitars play off each other on “Romeo and the Lonely Girl” is impressive in its subtlety and talent. “Warriors,” a song about drug addicts, has vocalist / bassist Phil Lynott singing and playing with swagger. I can’t figure out how he keeps up his killer bass line while singing like Iggy Pop, and the guitar solo on it is a thing of beauty.
“The Boys Are Back in Town” is, of course, their biggest hit in the United States (and pretty much everywhere else). It shouldn’t surprise anyone, really. The beat is straight-up rock, Lynott sings about guys everyone knows, and Gorham and Robertson’s guitars play for the cheap seats. “Fight or Fall” could almost be a Steely Dan track with it’s jazz guitar and drum touches. “Cowboy Song” is a rocking ode to rodeo riders, cattle wranglers, and heartbreak. The closer, “Emerald,” has enough guitar shredding for two albums, let alone one song. Remember how I suggested you should try to match “Jailbreak” when opening your album? It wouldn’t hurt to close with something as excellent as “Emerald” either.
Jailbreak is a classic that actually wasn’t heralded much in its time until “The Boys Are Back in Town” won the NME Award for Best Single in 1976. It has since grown to influence hundreds, if not thousands, of other bands, and to blast out speakers around the world.
Keep your mind open.
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Algerian musicians Imarhan are expanding the range of Tuareg music by including touches of psychedelia, surf, and rock on their new album Temet.
Opener “Azzaman” (“The Times / Time”) has beats that are both trance and dance-inducing, and the guitar is fiery when it kicks into gear. The guitar work on “Tamudre” is psychedelic funk, and the hand percussion is like a bubbling pot of hearty stew. “Ehad Wa Dagh” (“A Covenant and an Argument”) will get you moving. Seriously, put this on any exercise playlist you have. The band cooks through the whole thing and will have you burning calories faster than any spin bike or kickboxing instructor can manage. I love how the guitars on “Alwa” move from subtle to brash and back again in an instant.
The opening of “Imuhagh” is positively hypnotic. The guitars soar like a hawk overhead, the vocals seem to call to you from a distant dune, and the drums prowl like a cat on mouse patrol. They shred “Tumast” almost beyond belief, with guitars that come at you like a freight train and percussion like a landslide. It’s one of the hottest tracks I’ve heard all year. “Tarha Nam” is the calm after the storm of “Tumast,” and “Tochal” is another guitar showcase that would make Lindsey Buckingham jealous. “Zinizjumeg” and “Ma S-Abok” end the album a calm that’s much appreciated in this day and age.
I fell in love with Tuareg music a few years ago. It never ceases to bring me joy, make me dance, or ground me in the present. Imarhan’s Temet is another fine piece of art in the genre.
Windhand (Parker Chandler – bass, Dorthia Cottrell – vocals, Garrett Morris – guitar, Ryan Wolfe – drums) say they’re from Richmond, Virginia, but I think they secretly might be from Hyperboria, Jupiter, or beyond the Black Veil of Space and Time due to the heavy riffage they unleash on their 2015 record Grief’s Infernal Flower.
The opener, “Two Urns,” unleashes enough doom bass by Chandler to power a mission to Mars and soon Cottrell’s incense voice wraps around you like a black velvet cloak, Wolfe pounds out the rhythm of your jittery heart, and Morris shreds open your eyelids. If that’s not enough power for you, don’t fear. “Forest Clouds” comes next and it’s the sound of Tolkien ents marching toward a battle with orc troops from Mordor. Cottrell sings about something dark waiting to awaken from an eight hundred-year sleep. I love how Cottrell’s vocals have a quality that lies between sexy and menacing. She can sing strange incantations, dire warnings, and tales of mystery and the fantastic with equal skill.
Not dark enough? The title of “Crypt Key” should cheer you up. It starts with an acoustic guitar over synths that sound like a faint wind, but then turns into powerful sludge. Cottrell’s vocals on “Tanngrisnir” (a song about one of the goats who pull Thor’s chariot) are layered with just enough reverb to make them spookier than normal, and Wolfe’s drums sound like he’s been transformed into a giant doom metal centipede. “Sparrow” is almost a blues ballad. It’s a nice center to the album that lulls you into a peaceful place amid the dark creatures that lurk throughout the album.
“Hyperion” is the most upbeat song on the record – not necessarily by the lyrics, but definitely by the beat and straight-forward rock riffs by Morris and Chandler. I’m not sure if “Hesperus” refers to the Greek god of the planet Venus / the Evening Star or the poem The Wreck of the Hesperus by Henry Longfellow, but both are appropriate for over fourteen minutes of great stoner metal. Chandler’s bass and Wolfe’s drums are like primordial monsters rising from the depths to bring down a sea vessel, and Morris’ guitar and Cottrell’s vocals seemed designed to herald the arrival of a Venusian god. It abruptly ends, much like the fate of the ship in Longfellow’s poem. “Kingfisher” is about the same length as “Hesperus” and just as heavy. Cottrell sings about something or someone, perhaps even her, being “all-seeing, all-knowing” while Morris throws down riffs powerful enough to probably make him levitate. The album ends with “Aition” (a term for how religions explain the origin of a myth or legend), leaving one to think that the end of the record is actually the beginning to another journey…and Windhand does have another album coming out this October.
It’s a solid record of stoner metal that isn’t angry but certainly is menacing.
I’d heard of Chile’s psychedelic / shoegaze rockers Follakzoid years ago, but hadn’t picked up any of their material for reasons unknown to me. Lo and behold, they were on the lineup for the 2018 Levitation Music Festival in Austin, Texas, so I made sure to get tickets for their set (which did sell out). I’m glad I did because their set was one of my top three for the whole weekend, and I left determined to dive deep into their catalogue.
I’m starting with their last record, III, which is only four tracks, but the shortest is just over nine minutes long. It’s a mesmerizing, mostly instrumental mix of ambient synths, krautrock guitars, precision drumming, shoegaze fuzz, and misty psychedelic vocals.
“Electric” opens the album and lets you know that Follakzoid’s drummer is apparently a cyborg, because I don’t know how else he can keep up such a sharp beat for over eleven minutes. The song might be the closest I ever get to floating in zero gravity. The guitars range from hardly being there to surging toward you like a thunderstorm. “Earth” is a little jostling at first with the crunchy, jagged guitars but it grows into a tribal meditation with heart-pumping drums and drone synths. The song ends with weird bleeps, bloops, and what sound like synthesized animal and weather noises. “Piure” (named after a rare seafood in Chile) seems to melt like a candle over a skull over the course of nearly thirteen minutes. The last track, “Feuerzeug” (German for “lighter” or perhaps anything use to light a fire), has this mantra-like guitar riff that will float through your mind for days. Follakzoid stretched this nine-minute track into nearly twenty minutes when I saw them in Austin earlier this year, and it was amazing. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that it was mind-altering without the need for any kind of hallucinogens or even booze.
III isn’t so much an album as it is a sensory experience. It can carry you away if you’re not careful, which might not be a bad thing depending on the kind of day you’re having. This album would’ve been in my top 10 of 2015 if I’d heard it then.
Keep your mind open.
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Detroit rapper Danny Brown wasn’t on my radar until I saw him listed on the 2017 Pitchfork Music Festival lineup. I went online to research him and hear some of his stuff, and I was intrigued by his voice (sort of a high-pitched, nasally punk rock vocal) and flow and stunned by his brutal honesty about himself, his addictions, his neighborhood, fandom, and the music industry.
Starting with “Downward Spiral” (the title of which essentially describes Brown’s journey throughout the record), the album opens with warped beats that somehow mix dub, psychedelia, and industrial doom. Brown openly discusses how his drug use keeps him from getting an erection during a threesome, nearly burning down his house after falling asleep with a lit cigarette in his hand, and how “Your worst nightmare for me is a normal dream.” “Tell Me What I Don’t Know” builds like a Bloc Party track with its electronic beats and dancehall whistles as Brown laments (in a deeper vocal range, no less) how drug dealing is a “Never ending race, chasing cash. One lane going wrong way ’til I crash.” and “Shit is like a cycle. You get out, I go in, this is not the life for us.”
Brown lets us know that fame isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be on “Rolling Stone” (“Bought a nightmare, sold a dream. Happiness went upstream. Blame myself, I had no control. Now I’m living with no soul.” “Really Doe” is a who’s-who of modern day rap stars with Earl Sweatshirt, Kendrick Lamar, and Ab-Soul all contributing verses. “Lost” details how Brown has gone from dealing cocaine just to get by to now using it for fun after being famous enough to afford it.
“Ain’t It Funny” was one of the wildest singles of 2016. In it, Brown raps about how drugs have screwed up his life, the Devil is always whispering in his ear, and how many of his fans love him for having such a screwed up life and secretly hope he never kicks the addictions that he wishes he could ditch. “Golddust” continues this theme (and even brings in some rock guitar) as Brown raps, “Myself I don’t know no more. Numbing up with drugs to suppress these feelings, praying to the heavens, letting these devils get the best of me.” and “Got to the point ain’t gotta buy drugs. Niggas just give ’em to me. Yeah, they think they showing love, and that’s what’s up. Kinda fucked up. Now I do it way more than I used to.” “White Lines” has Brown confronting the real possibility that he’s going to die of a drug overdose any day now. The beats on it stumble around like a drunk and the weird synths reflect his state of mind. “Pneumonia” is a thick bass track about partying in New Orleans, getting laid, and getting high (in no particular order).
Brown keeps partying with “Dance in the Water,” in which he gives directions for a twerking contest. It has the most danceable beats on the record and proves that Brown can write a floor-filler club banger if he wants. Kelela sings in the hook on “From the Ground” while he raps in his mellow low tones about how far he’s come from writing his rhymes on a paper bag to now touring the world. “When It Rain” is one of Brown’s biggest hits off the album, and he’s downright dangerous on it. He raps about the dangerous of inner city living in Detroit, being lucky to be alive, and drawing a line in the sand to challenge lesser MCs. That being said, “Today” has Brown admitting that he knows he can die any time from either his drug use or violence in his hometown.
If you’re not sure what “Get Hi” is about, then you haven’t been paying attention to the rest of the album. Brown openly admits how much he loves weed and uses it to eliminate the stress of money problems, girlfriend problems, landlord problems, or any other problem, really (although the hidden message is how Brown’s love of the herb only contributes more to how screwed up his life is). The addition of Cypress Hill‘s B-Real on the chorus is a nice touch. The album ends on an up note with “Hell for It,” with Brown rapping about how hard he worked to get where he is (“I was hustling, scraping up, and saving just to catch a twelve-hour bus to NY, sleeping on the floor in studios asking God ‘Why?'”) and how he won’t give up despite knowing that fame might kill him.
I don’t want you to read this and think I condone drug use or dealing drugs. I don’t. I do, however, condone honesty and truth. Danny Brown delivers both with unflinching detail on Atrocity Exhibition. Truth is often missing from music in return for a fast buck and a one-hit wonder. Thankfully, we have artists like Brown to keep us real.
The second of two sold-out shows for My Bloody Valentineat Chicago’s Riviera Theatre was added when the first sold out in minutes. I was surprised the second didn’t sell out as fast, but happy that I got a ticket to what I was sure was going to be a face-melting experience.
Opening up for MBV were Martha’s Vineyard Ferries – a sort of shoegaze / garage punk band with bits of doom flavor sprinkled in now and then. I expected something a bit more psychedelic with a name like that, but they were “honored” to be opening for My Bloody Valentine and their enthusiasm came through in their set.
Martha’s Vineyard Ferries
The stacks of amplifiers for MBV were tall and numerous. A woman behind me said her friend had come to the first show and told her, “It was louder than Dinosaur, Jr.” Her friend was right. It was louder than them and probably five more bands combined.
My Bloody Valentine
Opening with “I Only Said,” the four of them powered through with walls of distortion and reverb. Vocals were barely audible at times, and usually incomprehensible. You don’t go to a MBV show to hear crisp vocals, however, not even on the two new songs they played. You go to experience the raw energy that comes at you like a pounding surf on a rocky beach.
Of course “Only Shallow” was a big crowd favorite (and as heavy-hitting as you imagine), but “What You Want,” “Nothing Much to See,” and, naturally, “Soon” were big wallops to your chest, too. A friend of mine held my hands in hers after “Who Sees You,” and we noticed our hands were trembling. She patted her chest and said, “Wow! Intense!”
“My ears are hurting!” was the cry of a guy to my left after they finished “Wonder 2.” I saw a lot of people without earplugs. I pitied them. Many of us were in near-meditative states by the time they got to “Feed Me with Your Kiss” and the audio avalanche that closed the show – “You Make Me Realize.” The bridge in that was a couple minutes of cymbals and guitar noise that almost reached the point of punishment before breaking back into the power chords. It left us all dumfounded.
As we were walking out, a woman behind me told her boyfriend he should’ve put in his earplugs for the finale. He said, “I could feel my chest vibrating. I thought, ‘Am I having a heart attack? Is this how it ends?'”
“Not a bad way to go,” I said.
“That’s true,” he said.
True, indeed. A My Bloody Valentine show isn’t for everyone, but it is something everyone should experience.
Produced in part with Kelly Deal of the Breeders and Pixies, Protomartyr‘s four-song EP, Consolation, packs more punch than many double albums in the punk, post-punk, neo-rock, or alt-rock genres.
