Dark rock act, The Rope, has released a modern take on post-punk with their self-titled EP.
Comprised of singer/synth player Jesse Hagon; guitarist Mike Browning; bassist Sam Richardson and drummer Matt Evans, The Rope deliver shadow-cloaked tunes that lie somewhere between Sisters of Mercy, Killing Joke and The Psychedelic Furs. Evans and Richardson keep the beat consistent and up tempo while Browning’s riffs balance between atmospheric and driving and Hagon’s vocals invoke the spirit of Ian Curtis and Richard Butler at the same time. The end result is six tracks that would do well to be spun in any goth club.
Since this EP arrived in my hands, it has yet to leave my regular rotation in my truck stereo. My only gripe with it is the length—I want more! I look forward to more from The Rope, eagerly.
Blink-182 has come a long way from the potty humor band I grew up with. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that band, but the new, “mature” version of Blink-182 is so much better. In 2003, they released a self-titled album that was a peek at things to come before their break-up, a band that is much better musically and lyrically than the band we knew in the late 90’s. This is the culmination of those efforts, a band that doesn’t rely on the same overused chord progression, and subject matter that covers life, death, children, not just the “girls, parties, and sex” they were known for in the past.
Perhaps it can be attributed to the hiatus that began in 2005, where the band decided to quit doing Blink-182 and focus their energy toward other projects. Tom DeLonge formed a band with Angels and Airwaves, Mark Hoppus and Travis Barker formed +44 among several other projects. Both Angels and Airwaves and +44 are great bands, and have really brought a quality to the Blink-182 table that hadn’t been there before.
Neighborhoods brings us a slightly darker, heartfelt, and moving sound, combining a few elements from the old Blink-182 with the best elements of Angels and Airwaves and +44 and of course, Travis Barker is still a master of the beats. The classic gripes about the band can still be found, you will find a few awkwardly placed f-bombs (from Natives: “They turn us loose in the night, a fucking Jekyll and Hyde” it just doesn’t fit here guys), they haven’t figured out that their best singer is in fact not Tom DeLonge, who’s voice seems to have been slowed down a half step in this album (and I’ve always found that he seems to pronounce things in a way that makes me want to cut off my ears) , but Mark Hoppus who really shines on all tracks where he is featured as the lead.
Blink-182 continues to grow up with a generation of people, following us through and, honestly, providing some surprisingly decent guidance to grow with. Overall, this is the best Blink-182 album to date. I honestly was not excited at all to hear anything from Blink-182, but I’m glad I gave Neighborhood’s a chance. It is a good change of pace, and an exciting glimpse at the future from the band I felt I was “too old” to listen to.
I’m not going to lie; I wasn’t looking forward to listening to this album again to write this review.
But, for the sake of you—the faithful readers—I muscled through it.
Abyssal Creatures, the “music” project of Ian Fellerman, has crafted 16 tracks of clumsy, self-deprecating, noise in the form of Social Awkwardness—the band’s latest LP. Upon my initial listen I found it impossible to escape the inane, nasal vocal; clumsy arrangements; repetitive guitar fuzz and over-arching irritation. The press kit for Social Awkwardness detailed how hard Fellerman worked on this album and how deep he looked into himself for the lyrical content. Though I respect his effort, I fail to see the value in it as the final product resembles more of a mess than an album.
Perhaps the artistic, avant-garde music fans out there will salivate all over this album—and good for them. I, on the other hand, felt as if I was being musically punished while spinning this disc. Maybe it’s my karmic retribution for hating on hipsters, but I doubt it.
Also, I apologise for my whining at the start of this piece—Fellerman’s insistence in wallowing in self-pity got to me.
Its been a little over three years since we have heard from Chris Martin and his pals(the guy with the hat, the bald guy, and the other one) of Coldplay, although you wouldn’t know it since radio-play from Viva La Vida has managed to maintain a presence since then. They are back for a fifth round of semi-ambiguous and generational-friendly rock with Mylo Xyloto.
Coldplay comes back with an album that is lacking the passion that was growing with the last two albums, and takes the safe route as the gentle background music that you might hear at Starbucks. Apparently Mylo Xyloto is a “concept” album “based on a love story with a happy ending”, in which two protagonists: Mylo and Xyloto, who are living in an oppressive, inner city environment, and fall in love. The problem with that is it isn’t an obvious concept, and there is no real connection between each song that show it is supposed to have a unified theme.
The music is top notch, as per usual. Coldplay didn’t become one of the biggest acts in the world because they suck. However, as was pointed out earlier, it is very much meant to be appealing for a very broad range of age groups, the album is very pop-ish. They don’t step into any “dark” territory as they did in X&Y or Viva La Vida. Mylo Xyloto is a very happy album, very upbeat. Maybe that’s what the world needs, even though a Viva La Vida type of “revolution” album seems to be more appropriate for the times. Highlights include “Paradise” and “Charlie Brown”
Alt-rockers, Youth Sounds,combine the chilled out vibes of The Shins with the synth lines of Shiny Toy Guns and manage to produce something altogether . . . sleepy. In repeat listening sessions to Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow I kept waiting for the energy level to pop. Sadly, it goes from casual stroll to mild trot.
The whispered vocal, though pleasant, reminds me of the Supreme Beings of Leisure while some of
the electronic pulses beg for a bigger room to bounce around in. Lyrically, the band is great. Erika Mejia pours her heart out on each track and has a simplicity that anyone could connect with. It’s such a shame that there’s little to draw the listener in, sonically.
It’s not to say Tomorrow . . . is completely unlistenable, rather each song has the same pace and complete lack of excitement which causes the EP to blur together and making it almost instantly forgettable.
Former Fall Out Boy lead singer Patrick Stump decides to drop a few pounds, manages to loose his thick rimmed glasses and trade them in for a pop-star alter-ego. One thing that he hasn’t managed to loose, however, is his talent; the guy can still sing…really well. In addition to playing every instrument on the album, Patrick truly lets his musical muscle shine in Soul Punk. Although I don’t really understand the album name, its lacking in both soul and punk.
And to all the Fall Out Boy fans who might complain about the album…lets face it, they have been going pop for a very long time. I wanted to hate it too, but the guy is so damn good. You have to give him credit for that.
Solo artist, Thomas Neptune’s latest EP, Down to Earth, is four slices of standard, American pie rock.
Unfortunately for Neptune, we’re growing full from massive servings of Jack Johnson, Jason Mraz, and Bruno Mars et al.
However, Neptune does sport a voice that sounds genuine and relaxed—without trying to force a laid back vibe and even sporting a greater range than many of his industry peers. Musically, the backing tunes are more intriguing than his highly successful counterparts with multiple layers and instrumentation giving them an almost cinematic quality.
Although, lyrically Neptune feels a bit trite, his message of self-empowerment and understanding is a welcome one in these tumultuous times we’re experiencing. Suffice to say, Down to Earth is a decent rough draft of what Neptune can potentially deliver in the future. Here’s hoping he can find something that’ll help him stand out in that overly-crowded room of male singer/songwriters.
Their attitudes leading up to the album may have not been the meekest, boasting such claims as, “It’s been 15 or 16 years since the last truly classic album, but I think we’ve done it,” (Guitarist Sergio Pizzorno) however, English rock band Kasabian may have had some right to say so. Their fourth album, Velociraptor!, is like a classic soundtrack, in fact it’s like a movie.
The first track, “Let’s Roll Just Like We Used To,” sets the tone with a Gong, and a very Indiana Jones-esque trumpet fanfare, then the song continues as a 60’s style James Bond movie; complete with old Aston Martins and small Asian hat throwers. The album continues with the movie theme in “Days Are Forgotten,” which begins with a 70’s sci-fi sound, and what seems like a cowboys and Indians style theme. More cinematic themes continue, a few Beatles nods, and more throwbacks ensue, while at the same time maintaining a classic Kasabian sound.
Similarly to a movie, Velociraptor! is very hard to jump in the middle of it and be able to appreciate it as much as you would listening from the beginning. For the most part, it isn’t an album where you can jump to track 7, there are no stand outs as singles, its a record where it is much better listened to as a whole.
Overall, Velociraptor! is a fun and very British album to listen to, the lead singer couldn’t be more British sounding if he were Queen Elizabeth. It doesn’t have the pace that “West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum” had, and at times it gets a little trippy, but it keeps your attention and manages to put out a unique album.
Singer drama; scraping material; re-writing an entire record all coupled with world tours; monumental metal festivals (Big 4 Fest anyone?) and the desire to get this record just right—these things would normally have seen other, lesser bands take a bow and go their separate ways. But, much like the vicious disease causing bacteria the band shares its namesake with–Scott, Frank, Charlie, Rob and Joey or Anthrax–refused to quit. This steadfastness permeates Worship Music and it’s an album that’s worth the wait.
Over the years, Anthrax’s sound has seen some changes from their bark-less thrash beginnings to a heavier—albeit less thrash—metal sound. Worship Music is the perfect blend of that growth. Scott and Rob have the meatiest guitar tones since the band’s inception; Charlie and Frank have finally found a favorable final mix on an album and long lost 80’s frontman, Joey Belladonna sounds the best he’s ever sounded. I’ve always been less than a Belladonna fan; simply for that fact that I always felt he was trying too hard. Maybe it was due to poor production
techniques and lousy recording equipment in the past, but his vocals always seemed forced. Now, however, Belladonna sounds confident with the pipes he has and we’re treated to a record that sounds the way the band has (probably) always wanted.
Worship Music’s only shortcoming is its length. Most of the songs break the five and six minute mark, which is fine, but at 13 total tracks and nearly an hour’s worth of material the songs start to blur together toward the end.
The horn-throwing worthy tracks include, “The Devil You Know,” “Judas Priest,” “Fight ‘em ‘til You Can’t” and “Earth on Hell.” And, the lighter appropriate anthem to fallen headbangers, “In the End” is a touching track that—thankfully—isn’t a cheese filled ballad. Overall, Anthrax has reestablished themselves in a crowded metal world; here’s hoping they can keep relevant for years to come.
There are times when a band/artist comes along and completely sweeps you off of your feet. You’re wed in musical matrimony and you stick with them through every up and down—though, admittedly, you’re so enamored you don’t really register the downs when and if they come. In my case, I must admit, I have a polygamous relationship with several groups. My current audio spouse is the badassery of VNV Nation and their newest offering, Automatic.
VNV Nation is adept at many things: inspiring the listener to believe in themselves; creating warm, sonic textures with “cold” sound machines; pushing their own boundaries and (nearly) always succeeding in that growth; and even in their periods of change, never forgetting to include the formulas that made them successful in the first place. Automatic is all of things in one, 10-track package. The best part? It’s also some of the group’s best work to date.
From the opening moments of “Space and Time” to the fading synths of album closer “Radio,” Automatic rarely loses steam and this is tough for a group that indulges in several instrumentals. Although the group could have used a touch of self-editing—the random modulator solo on lead single “Control” feels completely out of place—the two years spent crafting this album were well spent.
