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JARVIS COCKER
Further Complications
Rough Trade
On his second solo endeavor,
former Pulp frontman Jarvis Cocker
loosens his tie and throws off his
tweed jacket to reveal a sweat-soaked
undershirt. In between the usual sassy
crooners, Cocker unleashes a revived,
reckless energy—shouting emphati
cally until his vocal cords are raw. Now
if only he could find a backing band
that could keep up.
Look, Jarvis could freestyle over
the demo song on my $75 keyboard
and I would think it's genius (because
the lyrics surely would be). But it's
still disappointing to hear such flat,
uninspired shlock when the lyrics and
delivery have the potential to match
This Is Hardcore in delightfully sleazy
yet self-deprecating wit. Steve Albini
dropped the ball on this one—I'm all
for Jarvis making a rock record, but •
let's rock like it's 2009.
Further Complicaiions is plagued
by rock and roll clich6s that any studio
musician could crank out blindfolded.
The simplicity does work sometimes,
like on "Caucasian Blues’ or “I Never
Said I Was Deep," where the progres
sions are sc predictable it almost
serves to underline how unpredictable
or untraditional the lyrics are. I mean,
the 12-bar blues was never graced
with lyrics like “I heard it said that you
are hung like a white man" before. But
man, these melodies are complete
throw-aways without Cocker’s charisma
there to carry them through.
Michelle Gilzenrat
HERNIAS ZOPOULA
Espoir
Asthmatic Kitty
Hermas Zopoula has quite a gift.
He's one of 36 siblings born in the
somewhat politically unstable African
nalion of Burkina Faso, which has
some of the highest poverty and unem
ployment rates in the world, and he's
witnessed bloodshed and revolution
in his homeland Yet, despite these
things, he has managed to record one
of the more joyous, hopeful-sounding
records I've heard in a long time.
Espoir, French for "hope," is an
aptly named collection of classically
African pop music fused with an almost
disarmingly playful vibe. Zopoula's
soft vocals flow effortlessly across the
plucky strings, the light-as-air rhythm
and the delightful sound of what I
want to say must be an old ‘60s Casio
keyboard. But don’t worry—there^
nothing ironically hip about its use
here. Itls entirely within bounds. While
Zopoula^ sound can be a bit flat at
times, perhaps not fully fleshed out, it's
forgivable. Unlike the wonderful and
similarly styled Amadou and Mariam,
from neighboring Mali, Zopoula
doesn't have a Manu Chao at the helm,
which makes this record's serenity
and infectious likeability all the more
amazing.
With all songs sung in his native
French, it’s hard to know what he’s
singing about—the desperation expe
rienced by his country and those sur
rounding it, or the joy he stiil finds in
everyday life. I’m betting it’s the latter.
And if someone from such a difficult
background can find the up side to this
world, so can we.
Jennifer Gibson
MARSHMALLOW
COAST
Phreak Phantasy
Happy Happy Birthday to Me
Andy Gonzales sets the stage for
this release by calling it his "HBO spe
cial, rated R album," but the product
is far from crude, my friends. The only
thing Phreak Phantasy ostensibly has
in common with products often rated
R is a bit of naughty sexual humor
(i.e., the a cappella “gentle genitalia"
jam). The HBO aspect of Andy's claim
is perhaps more appropriate—this
disc is simply far less derivative than
a superficial listening suggests. Sure,
traveled across are shredding guitars,
effected vocals and the electro-pop
thing so popular over the past, say, 18
months (though currently waning), but
the subtext, yo!
Of course, I concede no exact
knowledge of authorial intent while
affirming that repeated traversals
through this genre-melding offering
yield very intriguing and amusing
nuggets of subtle internal debate and
play—a palpable sense of discrete pur
pose and intelligent design veiled but
accessible through vectors of humor
and imagination. Context accounts for
much here, and there's too much of it
to go into here.
Be advised, at the very least, that
this is a local release, but don't oig
around looking for subtle clues to
the over-arching drama—just listen.
If you really know anything about •
music and popular culture, angles and
answers (and several questions) will
constantly emerge and disappear from
Phreak Phantasms framework with each
passing.
Superficially, it funks real good
like, but there's so much more to this
than thbt. I won’t spoil the fun of the
drama by telling you what I think it
means, though.
Tony Floyd
Marshmallow Coast celebra>°s its
CD release at the Caledonia Lounge on
Saturday, May 30.
THE ^JAR LOCKS
THE WARLOCKS
The Mirror Explodes
Tee Pee
Of the illustrious line of Velvet
Underground disciples, L.A.'sThe
Warlocks have always been one of the
most distinctive. Measurably tweak
ing their neo-psychedelic aesthetic
each time out, the band has actually
shown more growth and evolution
than most of their ilk. In fact, lots of
shifting terrain is covered in just this
new album alone. But their previous
full-length—the richly atmospheric but
ultimately desultory Heavy Deavy Skull
Lover—ms a cautionary reminder
that they're best when all their gor
geous texturizing is framed by sharp
songwriting. Well, maybe all the tour
ing they did with focused, likeminded
upstarts The Black Angels rubbed off
because The Warlocks have recovered
with a record that features much more
punctuation and point.
Excellently dark narcosis sets in
on the funeral incantation of "Standing
Between the Lovers of Hell" and
the mescaline bleakness of “Slowly
Disappearing." Other quieter gems
include the spare Jesus-&-Mary-Chain
twang on the Darklands-worshipping
“There Is a Formula to Your Despair"
and the surprisingly crystalline star
gaze of “Static Eyes." The pick of the
litter however is “The Midnight Sun,"
a celestial space lullaby that coasts
on slo-mo sine curves of groaning,
bleaching noise.
Despite all the hazy layers at play,
there's a deft compositional hand
operating here in determining the right
washes and the scale at which each
operates. The result is a work of clarity,
maturity and depth.
Bao Le-Huu
GREATJaM WIMHtRS
» • »' • « (it vMcLil
GREAT LAKE
SWIMMERS
Lost Channels
Nettwerk
Toronto’s Great Lake Swimmers are
a band blessed with aptness of name.
Like the imagery conjured by their
moniker, their music is vast, fluid and
wintry. Their rural ye! pristine sound is
informed primarily by folk but tempered
wiih sadcore, which means total ennui
is a constant concern. Fortunately, their
fourth full-length avoids coma in sev
eral key ways. The Swimmers still like
to gaze from windows at white northern
landscapes and float in introspection.
The difference now is that they bring
some greater detail and heft. The
execution is reliably restrained, but
the instrumentation here is lush and
paints from a broader palette. Though
delicate and fine-spun, the spacious,
echoing soundscapes can also be epic.
The Swimmers are getting larger and
louder, and it works because the song-
writing is keeping pace with increas
ingly salient melodies.
Outstanding tracks include the
wide, gorgeous breezes of "Palmistry,"
the open-field jog of “Pulling on a
Line," the traditional literalism of “The
Chorus in the Underground’ and the
strumming, rustic waltz of “Still." The
star however is “She Comes to Me in
Dreams," whose long twangy bends
of pedal steel dance atop a real rock
foundation.
Like a dream-state love affair
between Neil Young and Fleet Foxes,
Lost Channels is the Swimmers' most
red-blooded and soulful effort to date.
Here, the subtle divinity in their indie
folk finds its greatest definition yet.
With huge melodies and sparkling
details, this is a work of marrow and
grace.
Bao Le-Huu
rhS UBhbhiOS EMhibib
TODAY THE MOON,
TOMORROW
THE SUN
The Lightning Exhibit
Independent Release
This six-song EP from Atlanta band
Today the Moon, Tomorrow the Sun is
strong, but may prove to be too little
too late. After a flood of female-fronted
electro-rock acts—from Ladytron and
Metric to more recent front-runners like
Ladyhawke and Crystal Castles—it's
really difficult to distinguish what char
acteristics could help this group stand
apart from the rest.
Maybe the difference lies in the
rich and varied tones, the guitars
grinding out Muse-like riffs countered
by Lauren Gibson’s bell-like vocals.
Still, overall, it's not quite as abstract
as Crystal Castles; ifc not quite as
danceable as Metric (save for the
intense Autonomic remix of “Traits
of a Traitor"); and the choruses aren't
quite as memorable as Ladyhawke.
Perhaps given the chance to record a
full-length, TTMTTS would flex a little
more muscle and explore more diverse
sounds. The airy post-rock balladry of
title track “The Lightning Exhibit" and
acoustic number “Never.Always.Good"
certainly suggest a more eclectic bag
of tricks in the band’s arsenal than is
immediately evident.
Unless the band sheds its more
derivative house beats and synth flour
ishes, however, TTMTTS may prove
merely ancillary to the other electro
rockers that did it first and do it better.
Michelle Gilzenrat
Today the Moon, Tomorrow the
Sun plays the Caledonia Lounge on
Thursday, May 28
Oldest Bar ft Grill In Athens!!
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