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Gimme Fiction
Merge
Spoon's new album Gimme Fiction
isa push of detailed, complex rock
songs. Spoon isn't trying to do anything
musically esoteric or inaccessible, but it
otters so much variety in its sounds,
even within the same song (and cer
tainty between them), that not one
minute ot thealbum is easy to forecast.
"Beast and Dragon. Adored* opens with
a dark, simple piano and bass line that
singer Britt Daniels' gritty, breathless
vocals groan over and (hell. Ill be bold)
that sounds like he took his Lennon
pills before he recorded.
1 Turn My Camera On* switches
from dirty, melodic rock to a halting
disco-y sound The double-tracked
falsetto and the subtle bells in the back
ground make me want to dance like a
spazz. “Sister Jack* changes the album*
gears—again—as every instrument
screams mekxlicalty. except one ot the
guitar tracks, which rips in and out
threatening the melodies and aiming to
destroy any pop proclivities. *1 Summon
You* is a softer, more reflexive song,
with stuffy nose vocals and the perva
sive. danceable feel that drummer
James Eno maintains against the jan-
gley guitars and minor keys.
The Austin-based band obviously
takes its hat off to the Beatles in its style
ot recording and writing, but does it in a
way that Gimme fiction, the tilth full-
length. proves again that Spoon is a
prof icient, inventive group capable ot
making any style very much its own
Bunny Mcintosh
Spoon is playing at the Variety
Playhouse in Atlanta on Wednesday,
June 1.
ilEATER-KINNE'
SLEATBHONNEY
The Woods
Sub Pop
JvSI as Revenge o( the Sithncoo-
textualizes the first two Star Wars pre
quels. The Uteris sheds new light upon
Stealer-Kinney* previous output. But
while Episode ///validates and adds rel
evance (H only slightly) to its forebears.
The Woodsdarifes and makes obsolete
the Washington trio* past albums. The
assertive and venturesome album is the
band* seventh; compared to this
ottering, the anthemic punk energy ot
1997* Dig MeOutml 2002* One Beat,
for instance, sounds in retrospect
pedestrian and rote, like a band gearing
up for something better. The Woods,
which is unpredictable bat sounds
inevrtawe. ts someuwxj Dener its
something pretty much terrific.
The album bursts open with the
sludgy, distorted guitars ot The Fox.*
its tack of easily KJentitaoie choruses, a
hallmark ot pest Steater-Wnney songs,
is indicative of the experimental path the
band and producer Dave Fridmarm have
chosen to explore. “What* Mine is
Yours* retains a catchy hook as the
band takes full advantage ot stereo pro
duction, bouncing guitar blasts around
the landscape. The song* shifting styles
and willingness to abandon and reclaim
disparate themes is similar to The Who*
*A Quick One While He* Away*; in fad.
The Woods has more in commor> with
classic-rock institutions like The Who.
the Rolling Stones and Black Sabbath
than it does with Carrie Brownstein.
Conn Tucker and Janet Weiss' grrty
contemporaries.
ft* on the improvised, recorded-in-
one-take union ot the songs let's Call
It Love* and "Night Light,* which clocks
in at a combined 14 minutes, where
Steater-Kinney pretty much destroys
anything it once was. Dirty, bluesy, psy
chedelic yes. But most ot aH, unbeliev
ably loud. LOUD. It* almost kind ot
ridiculous how powerful and impressive
The Woods is. With its new album,
Sleater-Kinney* redefining the meaning
ot force.
Chris Hassiotis
Sleatef-Kinney is playing at the
Variety Playhouse in Atlanta on Friday,
Jutyl.
THE HIGH SPED
SCENE
The High Speed Scene
Interscope
The longest song on The High
Speed Scene* selt-titled debut album is
3:35. That may be enough ot a review
for some of you. vtoo will either think.
*Hmm, I tend to agree with Jelk) Biafra
on the liking of short songs.’ or dis
miss ;; ^mediately as 12 songs of
bratty slacks punk. It is that. too. but in
a way not as aggressively nyah-nyah as
Blink 182.
What The High Speed Scene most
calls to mind is Detroit Rock City, an
uneven film to be sure, but ore that sort
ot captures being young and running
around tucking up and in love with the
possibilities ot the power chord. The
sound's got a bit ot Weezer (the fun
Weezer. rather than the Weezer that tries
to say things), with zingy guitar rifts and
punched-up drums, but enough‘80s
disco packed in to enable dancing,
especially on songs like In the Know.'
How do the bandmembe»s do all
this using exactly the right proportion of
mildly ironic amusement at C<etr youth
and genuine glee? It* something to
hear indeed, and it* easy to see how
actual teenagers would be swept away
by the assertions that *We do It lor the
kidsf* when paired with cfrgfr hooks.
‘Assingear* repeats There* never been
a day like this one* with summer groove
Infection, and the High Speed Scene
knows enough to throw in an expletive
here and there to build cred back up
that could otherwise be reduced by
cuteness. Lots of *hey*s and "woo's
and, look, Pharretl gets it the band is
on his label. The friendly mosh pit is
back, kids!
Hillary Brown
High Speed Scene is playing at The
Lott in Atlanta on Wednesday, June 1.
Make Believe
Geffen
I would realty like to give you a
simple comparison for Make Believe,
but the people who I thought would
love the album (open-minded modern-
rockers) hate it and the ones who I
thought would hate it (the anti-cock-
rock brigade) actually love it I'd like to
give some sort of coherent response to
the critical ass-kicking it has taken, but.
quite frankly. I don't have one. because I
don't understand why people dislike it
so much, especially given that it doesn't
seem that much different from the other
post-comeback Weezer albums.
(Maybe because Rivers Cuomo got
even crazier, but we all saw that coming
as far back as Pinkerton, right?) All my
grand theories dry up and drift away
like. uh. so much talcum powder. Ditto
lor my metaphors.
What I can tell you is that I strongly
identify with the much-maligned first
single *Bever!y Hills,* as will anyone
who* come from a small town to some
where they've been dreaming ot. be it a
coliege town or a big city, only to find
that all their peers seem somehow
better than them—richer, better-con
nected. better-dressed—and turned
that realization into ambition. I love the
attempts at power balladry, especially
the comforting “Hold Me.* And I like
the semi-novelty-single *My Best
Friend,* because while It isnT quite as
good as “Stacy* Mom,* it* still pretty
fantastic. Sure, there ate some real
clunkers (*We Are All On Drugs*), but
overall this is another immensely *
enjoyable Weezer record.
Michael Barthet
actually did. Producers Man Goias and
Taney* made music that sounded like
old-school, booty-bass hip hop placed
In the new etedrodash context with
three Brooklyn girls from a mall as
emcees. While tracks like novelty mas
terpiece ‘Cameftoe* nailed it. the rest
seemed a bit barren—perhaps because
ot eiectrodash* influence du jour—and
I rarefy felt motivated to listen to the
whole thing.
While See You Next Tuesday
doesn't have any songs as immediate as
‘Cameltoe,* the greater diversity ol pro
duction sound is a wetcome change.
When Fannypack tries to take the booty-
bass thing farther, it doesn't work (as
with Tump That* about which I can
only say: if you're going to rip off Quad
City DJs, make it better than this), but
songs like the harmonica-driven 718*
and the chant-and-stomp-sampling
Teet and Hands'are inexplicable tri
umphs in parallel lo the Neptunes'
working method, and The reggae song*
Tire Fire* (featuring Mr. Vegas) throws
acoustic guitar and tabta into the mix to
great effect.
As for the girts, they don't seem to
have grown up too much, which is nice,
but their lyrics have run out ol steam as
their flow improved, suggesting they
could use a little more life experience to
draw from; also. I'd love to see
Fannypack become a Brooklyn hip hop
collective devoted to chronicling the
group* maturation. Look tor hit single
‘Goddamn This Apartment Is a
Shilhole* sometime in 2010.
Michael Barthel
See You Next Tuesday
Tommy Boy
Alter Fannypack* first album, I
thought Td like the band more than I
M/mSYHHU
Live at Stubb's
JDub
II you were only hall paying atten
tion to the blurbs this got over the past
month (much in the way I was), all you
caught was “Hasidic" and 'rapper.* and
you were mildly intrigued, but didn't
actually bother to go and check it out.
But the album itself reveals that
Matisyahu is far more reggae than hip
hop Not that this is less strange
exactly, except in that reggae tends to
talk about religion a bit more than hip
hop does
At any rale. I donT consider myself
a reggae fan (the Clash doesn’t court),
and I have an abiding general hate for
live albums, but I have to admit this is
pretty listenabie. though an hour is
much too tong. It does have flashes of
being more than background music,
most obviously on *Beat Box,* where he
proceeds to do just that That song
could easily be characterized as disas
trous, but the introduction of a beat that
does more than sway gently while
drinking a rum cocktail is enough to
make one sit up and take nodee. On the
other hand, the song comes and goes in
appeal, it* a bit wet-sounding, and the
vocals donT Idck Li until way too late.
When they do. after obligatory audience
participation, he doesn't have the
smoothest flc*. but manages to keep it
going until Yoni MC (presumably?)
joins in with stronger skills.
On the whole, it* kind olnocrfly
and jammy, w*i heartfelt lyrics abort
rtasioism (Atsn wnu, a sooq aoout
the destruction ot the Temple and the
third temple to come, is the second
best track), interesting ana more man a
novelty buy, but hard for me to tufty
appreciate.
Hiltary Brown
OUT HUD
Let Us Never Speak ot It Again
Kranky
In 2002 Kranky released the debut
full-length from Brooklyn art-da ice
band Out Hud. describing Street Dad
as the Chicago experimental music
label* first release aimed at the ass as
much as the head.* The group* itchy
yet somber post-punk instrumental
jams did in fact tantalize both ends ot
the anatomy.
Out Hud shares a couple of mem- •
be^ with fellow New Yorkers!!!—most
notably the latter* vocalist Nic Otter.
This relation is evident in Out Hud*
sound, but vtoiie!!! excels in disco- and
funk-drenched dancefloor pop. the
lesser-known cousins employed gen
erous amounts of cello and dub to make
the groove more cerebral and enjoyable.
But now with Let Us Never Speak ot It
Again, Molly Schnickhaspickedupa
microphone and transformed Out Hud
into a pop band.
Does it work? Yes. Has it lost that
Out Hud sound that made the debut so
thrilling? Not at all. Let Us Neveft 10
tracks are. save one, more concise, but
with none ot the meat cut out Things
start ofi with "This Just in,* smoothly
catchy syrth-pop that doesn't make you
wait too long for the singular guitar
style, which sounds a bit like a
restrained and pensive Edge from U2.
Ort Hud has truly surpassed HI; just
listen lo "Dear Mr. Bush. There Are Over
100 Words Fcr Shit and Only 1 For
Music. Fuck you. Out Hud* and hear
11 -and-a-half hypnotic minutes of just
how brilliant the tend still is.
Michael Wehunt
BLOC PARTY.
BLOC PARTY
Silent Alarm
V2
Bloc Party* Silent Alarm doesn't
beat around the bush sonically. The
bombastic double-time drums ot
opener *Like Eating Glass* certainly
announce that this will no! be'good
music to chill out to.* In tact the
instrumentation is exceptionally lay
ered and complex, more so than toeir
hastily identified counterparts Franz
Ferdinand and Interpol. Guitar arrange
ments shift continuously back and forth
in the mix, idling the solid rhythm-
section take the lead with no ser.se of
compromise or hesitation. On "Blue
ugnt. me locus snms enoruessiy to
ballad mode with the melody guiding
and the rhythm merely checking the
map every once in a vtoiie. The varied
styles on the album set Bloc Party well
apart from their aforementioned one-
trick rivals, tut there* something
missing from Silent Alarm.
Perhaps the blame should fan on
toe lyrics. Vocal ist/guifarist Kate
Okereke exploits a very short-oriented
approach remirtscert of the vocals on
Blur* single Topscene.* In songs like
This Modem Love’ and The Pioneers’
he croons in a much more melodic
fashion; toe chorus and verse lines
become more memorable and less
hackneyed lyric wallpaper. The Price of
Gas* is a fine example otthe latter
apparently saying something abort war
and fossil fueis. Okereke seems afraid to
take a real stance on toe matter.
Something abort Silent Alarm
seems phoned in. While dearly heads
above Franz Ferdinand and the other
associated crop of new bands, that isnT
enough to make the album stand on its
own. While in 10 years SHent Alarm
may be a part of toe influence canon of
some great band looking back, right
now it* just an instantly forgettable
grab-bag of tunes that remind me of
other bands Bloc Party can never live
up to.
Paul Nunn
Bloc Party is playing at Music
Midtown in Atlanta on Saturday. June
11.
Sardonic Wrath
Moonfog
Age has been toe death of countless
hands. Artists with genuine talent and
songwriting gifts have watched time
strip away their relevance and ideals. In
the case ol evil, this is even more accu
rate When a black metaJ veteran
pushing 40 looks in toe mirror what
does he see? Someone still eager to
don the giant spiked armband and do
Satan* bidding? Or a guy with a beer
gut who sighs and bemoans. ‘Dark
Lord, who am I kidding? My daughter
uses my corpse paint when she runs out
of mascara.’
Such is the inherent joke tn black
metal. For every truly evil church-
burner. there are 20 angsty virgins
bored with D&D. Darkthrone. one ot the
very f irst bands in the Scandinavian
genre* second wave, is getting up there
in years. But while the scene* devolved
into Dimmu Boring dones who snarl for
toe cameras like Cradle ot Dollars.
Darkthrone is the Fugazi of true
Norwegian black metal.
Now with only legendary Fenriz cn
drums and Nodumo Cuito on guitars
and vocals, the new record Sardonic
Wrath stays true lo the cold atmospheric
fury the band perfected on A Blare in the
Northern Sky. Information Wants to Be
Syndicated* may not literally sound like
demons picking up instruments as in
toe evil old days, but it* surprisingly
dose. They guys have mellowed
slightly, sounding like MotOrhead at
times, but there* dirty production and
enough evil left to keep Darkthrone vital.
In other words, death to false evil!
Michael Wehunt
28 FUGPOLE.COM • JUNE 1, 200b