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DAVID W. GRIFFETH,
Attorney
announces the relocation of his* law office
to Downtown in the Fred Building
220 College Ave. Ste. 612,
• Athens, Georgia
(706) 353-1360
• former location 957 Baxter St*
Admitted to the Bar of the United
States Supreme Court since 1976*
* And lesser courts
Specializing in Personal Injury, Wrongful Death,
Criminal Defense, Credit Card/Debt Relief, DUI,
Drug Cases and more.
Listed in Error in the AT&T BellSouth
Phone Book under “Law Office”
. www.DavidWGriffeth.com
We Now
Hove
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lstpooity^ IQdftCE!
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Oply $ 6 per persop!
>289 College Are • Under Parking
706-546-8787
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ANTLERS
Hospice
Frenchkiss
Sending tingles throughout the
cognoscenti upon its sell-release
earlier this spring, this stunning under-
the-radar work has since been picked
up, remastered and officially released
by tasteful indie label Frenchkiss. It's a
concept album involving the precarious
waltz between a mentally abusive ter
minal patient and a caregiver. Sonically,
Antlers’ atmospheric dream-pop is
swathed in shoegaze and psychedelia.
But despite the foggy palette, there's a
distinct clarity and exactitude to their
detailed sound. While some artists’ use
of effects is an illusion of depth. Antlers
orchestrate their arsenal with precision
and intensity.
The album is awash in hovering,
sometimes harrowing contempla
tion like the crestfallen tremble of
“Kettering.’ But it’s truly exceptional
when it goes big. When that happens,
Hospice is a revelation capable ot
crippling beauty. “Bear" strokes lavish
psych-pop impressionism that rivals
the Flaming Lips at their best. “Two"
begins as a trickle of a folk song that
dramatically blossoms into a sky
streaking anthem. Shaping a cyclone
into a mountaintop symphony, the
wuthering "Sylvia" hits heights so diz
zying that it will steal your breath.
Though intellect and craftsmanship
abound, this collection isn't just an eso
teric exercise. It’s a work of pathos and
humanity. Hospice is poised to be one
of this year's biggest sleepers, making
Antlers a band you need to know now.
• Bao Le-Huu
JOHNNY WINTER
The Johnny Winter Anthology
Shout Factory
As heard on the two-disc, epony
mous anthology that spans the late-
‘60s »u the early 2000s, Texan guitarist
and singer Johnny Winter didn't just
pick or strum the blues. More often that
not, Winter attacked them as if he and •
old Mr. Scratch were pitted against one
another in a life or death slugfest. This
35-track compilation provides the most
thorough portrait to date of Winter’s
meat 'n' potatoes formula that com
bined monster riffs and gruff, extended
solos with outlaw imagery self-penned
or on loan from acts like the Stones,
Chuck Berry and Little Richard.
The set is arranged chronologi-
J*£ally. and by the end of tbe firsts a , f!U
Winter has cooled his jets a bit and
segued into a chugging boogie-rock
mode he would carry through the
late 1970s and into the '80s. But. the
white-haired albino bluesman charges
out of the gates steamrolling through
the ferocious bent notes of ‘Rollin’
and Tumblin," as well as other fire and
brimstone scorchers like the shuttling
‘Hustled Down in Texas." A foursome
of muscular cuts from the mighty 1971
concert album Live Johnny Winter are
highlighted by the atom bomb vamping
of the 8-minute "Mean Town Blues."
By the middle of disc two. Winters
has begun to downplay the predict
able boogie arrangements of "Stone
County’ and “Rock 'n' Roli People"
in favor of a return to the grittier style
of electric roadhouse blues, heard on
the closing lone Wolf and the slide-
heavy “It's My Life. Baby," at which he
really excels. Though his thin, reedy
vocals were never powerful enough to
make Winter an iconic blues singer, it
was his hard-working axe that called
the shots and, here, his supercharged,
non-textbook melding of blues and
rock consistently steals the show.
Michael Andrews
DARK MEAT
When the Shelter Came EP
Emergency Umbrella
Dark Meat’s new EP When the
Shelter Came only comes as a 7"
vinyl pressing, with just the title track
and “The Fainl Smell of Moss' on the
respective sides. That T comes with
a download code, though, which nets
you three additional tracks of psyche-
delicized bluesy punk, though those
two original tunes are also the most
worth your time. Recorded at multi
instrumentalist Tim Schreiber's house,
they feature the massive local band
giving life to frontman Jim McHugh’s
fever-dream imagery. “When the
Shelter Came" winds a circuitous path,
a horn-heavy rock and roll jaunt laced
throughout with sitar.
“The Faint Smell ot Moss' finds
a mellower band at work, reminiscent
of the occasional acoustic shows the
band has played in town under the
unofficial Soft Meat name. Melodies
and instruments that get lost in the
band’s electrified presentation come to
the torefront, and the strings that seem
almost superfluous in the Dark Meat’s
live din justify their prominence. “The
Faint Smell of Moss' is no acoustic
softie, though, and wraps up in a
warped, otherworldly squall. “Last of
the Frontiersman," a number off Dark
Meat's forthcoming double LP Truce
Opium (due in late October), shows
that the band's not all free-jazz shape
lessness, it's a Stones-and-Stooges-
inspired pop number that clocks in at
just over three minutes.
The EP wraps with the under-a-
minute “New Millennium Prayer II"
which is an improvisationaljiiece
featuring Zeb Malik from Popo on.
vocals followed by the oldest known
Dark Meat recording, a live and loose
yefsiQQpt “There Is a Retard on Acid
Holding a Hammer to Your Brain,’
already one of the looser songs ot Dark
Meat's debut disc Universal Indians.
This one’s fuel for the fife for Dark
Meat’s less accessible tendencies;
repetition, insularity and liberties with
tunefulness. Overall, the EP is a fine
preview of more to come.
Chris Hassiotis
Dark Meat is playing at the 40 Watt
Club on Thursday, Aug. 6.
TINY MASTERS
OF TODAY
Skeletons
Mute
Since their inception, the Brooklyn
punk band—anchored by sibling
urchins Ivan (15) and Ada (13)-—has
been both championed and assisted by
indie royalty like Russell Simins, Karen
0 and Kimya Dawson while their peers
are universally lost in the weeds of
emo and pop-punk. But, as this much-
hyped sophomore album affirms,
they've got the goods.
In an era that's seeing the punkifi-
cation of everything, the timing couldn't
be more perfect time for TMOT. Their
overdriven, damaged punk tornado
sucks in everything from pop to dance
to hip-hop. There are so many dispa
rate elements colliding in this sonic
punchbowl that it should be a ball of
confusion but miraculously is not. Like
good graffiti, it's noisy, intricate and
exciting all at once.
Though steeped in artiness, the
fierce daring here is natural and free of
self-consciousness and pretense Amid
TMOT’s real, often adorable sense of
fun is a punk spirit that’s as genuine as
it is modern.
Bao Le-Huu
SDR ACMAN TAA!
NEW ROMAN TIMES
On the Sleeve
New Granada
You may not know New Roman
Times yet. but some of your favorite
indie bands probably do. Having been
personally hand-picked to perform
by artists like Cursive, Ted Leo & the
Pharmacists. VHS or Beta and the
Good Life, they've existed just beneath
broad recognition of their own for years
now. Centered around the creative core
of husband-wife combo Daniel Owens
(vox/guitar) and Josie Fluri (bass/vox),
the band originally rose to prominence
as a cornerstone of Orlando’s indie-
rock scene until their relocation to
Austin.
Their latest full-length effort is a
considered rendition of a signature
that draws from early millennium NYC
indie rock. Between the urgent passion
of Owens' wails and Fluri's vulnerable
sighs lies serious romance. The styl
ish, grand union of ringing guitars,
nocturnal dance rhythms and shim
mering melodies just makes it all dig
in deeper. Rather than be defined by
flavor-of-the-week signposts, this out
ing aims for a classic tunefulness and
sharply etches a svelte, accomplished
silhouette.
Bao Le-Huu
WILCO
Wilco (The Album)
Nonesuch
It's tempting to take the title, Wilco
(The Album) at face value amtpresume
the band intended these 11 songs
to represent its entire body of work.
Instead, the album finds Wilco going
further into the dad-rock direction it
gravitated toward on Sky Blue Sky,
while reaching back towards the more
straightforward fare of A M. and half
of Being There. The Wilco ot 2009 has
matured past melodramatics.
Wilco still uses its abrasive rock
tendencies to complicate folk tunes
into delicate ballads that juxtapose ten
sion and relaxation. With more focus
on relaxation, a sincere and sweet
album is created where contentment
replaces what was once anxiety. From
jaunty upbeat songs to quiet moments
so soft they almost disappear, the over
riding theme is acceptance. The self-
titled presentation represenls a stage
of bemused self-awareness, and it's a
pleasure to listen to.
Michael J. Gerber
RHETT MILLER
Rhett Miller
Shout! Factory
Old 97's front man Rhett Miller is
strangely underrated as a songwriter.
His words are always a mouthlul—
intelligent, rhythmic and packed with
meaning. He's not as overtly lovelorn
as his one-time rival Ryan Adams, but
Miller can say more in five words than
Adams can in an entire song. When
you get right down to it, he's a sly lin
guist with heart, which could make him
cowpunk’s Colin Meioy.
On his third solo record Miller
again indulges his love of early '90s
pop and 60s arrangements and he
does it well. Whether he’s making light
of his dating situation in the Beatles-
esque “Another Girlfriend" or gaining
ground with perfect harmony on 3 I
• Need to Know Where I Stand," Miller
makes it seem calculated and effort
less at the same time. Yet, sometimes
it’s so pristine it lacks the character of
his two previous works. But it’s still a
record that will nestle in your gut, and,
ultimately, that's Miller’s specialty.
Jennifer Gibson,
14 ;iYU(mE:n0K)/AUGUS^S,.20Q9)i)U.>