About Flagpole. (Athens, Ga.) 1987-current | View Entire Issue (Feb. 2, 2011)
Bowling • Food • Spirits We have an bowling auey with a FULL MR and a I FULL KITCHeN epeN 7 pays a weeK aNP L8TC NIGHT! vmars cooien ntaN tmt?! Mon-Thur 4pm- 12am • Fri 3pm-2am Sat 12pm-2am • Sun 12pm-12am 2451 Jefferson Rd. 706-546-8090 TeNNNSTaveRN.COM Private Parties Available We've cooked up some new menu items! SOCIAL DISTORTION Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes Epitaph Between the six years since the last album and another few months of release delay, Social Distortion diehards are going nuts by now for the new record. It’s finally here, but it’s not exactly equal to the protracted wait. With wider homage to other American music touchstones, the collection’s a bit scattershot stylistically. Moreover, the tone reflects a man at a certain "mature’ point in his life, one that’s more golden and sentimental than hungry and visceral. All of which is accurate for principal Mike Ness, but that also means this record sometimes lacks the virility of classic Social D. Still, this uneven hand packs some aces. The best instances of the band's trademark heart include the cathartic, sky-serenading "Writing on the Wall' and the healing Southern California sunshine of "Still Alive.' That old growl still lives in songs like “Road Zombie’ and “Machine Gun Blues.* Of the more atypical songs, picks are the last-call punky-tonker "Bakersfield." which works the country edge that's always favored Ness’ soulful side, and "Gimme the Sweet and Lowdown," a road pounding number that young country- rock bands would drink to. Any of these songs am more likely to become classics than the album itself. And though the feel-good vibes are plentiful, that defining edge is dearly missed. Bao Le-Huu CAKE SHOWROOM V COMPASSION CAKE Showroom of Compassion Upbeat Records Cake is supposed to be sweet. Sure, some of the band's best songs over the years ("The Distance,' 'Never There,’ “Wheels') have been about pain, loneliness and a general sense of existential malaise, but they were always softened with a hearty dol lop of irony frosting that made them oddly relatable. With Showroom of Compassion, the band's first proper album in seven years, it becomes clear that Cake has lost that sense of humor. The first single, 'Sick of You,' is, on the surface, yet another atonally sung/ spoken breakup anthem with punchy horns and a creative bass-line—the Cake recipe, if you will—but an uninspired chorus and a downright depressing bridge seem far removed from the playfulness of the group’s early career. Following that is "Easy to Crash,’ a dark, repetitive tune that seems to find frontman John McCrea contemplating driving into oncoming traffic—not exactly “Stickshifts and Safetybelts." Perhaps even more disap pointing is that, when its not bringing you down, Showroom feels like a sad attempt to recapture Cake’s past suc cesses by ripping them off. “Moustache Man’ and ‘Italian Guy* are rehashes of earlier, better songs, and the album title itself is lazily similar to the groups far-superior debut, Motorcade of Generosity. So. what happened? Growing up, I lo.'ed Cake like a fat kid loves... well, you know. Did they, in leaving the aegis of Columbia for their own independent label (and solar-powered studio!), try to both have and eat themselves? Did their willfully quirky sound finally hit its ceiling? Is it just an off record? Only time will tell, but for now, consider me on a diet. This Cake is stale. David Fitzgerald CUT COPY Zonoscope Modular Australian trio Cut Copy employ some seriously dense electronic*' in plying their sunny, infectious dance pop, so it’s no surprise that the group was founded by a DJ. On the band's third record, frontman/producer Dan Whitford is clearly running the show from his laptop, drawing from a wide spectrum of electronic musics to create luxurious layers of digital sound in the mold of Caribou or Animat Collective. His commitment to the three-piece band setup, however, allows for genre crossing explorations that would sound equally at home in the 40 Watt or New Earth Music Hall. “Take Me Over," with its quick, staccato synths and tribal beat, sounds like an ’80s-inflected Yeasayer. A bouncy, elastic bass line anchors "Pharaohs and Pyramids' as Whitford deftly piles on new elements, build ing the song to an explosive dance party finale. ‘Blink and You'll Miss a Revolution’ opens with an undeniable hat-tip to the Talking Heads before metamorphosing into a chill-wavey chorus. Really, all these songs are of a (admittedly killer) piece until the tre mendous, 15-minute finale. "Sun God.’ Occupying a full quarter of the album's hour-long runtime, it starts off with some heavy drums and more David Byrne-esque vocals before winding and pulsing through several movements, touching on new wave, chill wave and spacey ambience before settling into its dubsteppin’ back end. The creativity and dexterity with which Whitford commingles the disparate subgenres that comprise electronic music history is stunning, and if "Sun God* is the exclamation point at the end of this chapter in the Cut Copy story, then I cannot wait to read the next. David Fitzgerald THE DECEMBERISTS The King Is Dead Rough Trade Their ability to grow and explore new territory from album to album, despite an incredibly unique, almost niche-level sound, is what makes The Decemberists one of the most consis tently rewarding bands working today. With each record growing increasingly ambitious in scale, from the early sea shanties of Castaways and Cutouts through the operatic heights of The Hazards of Love, it was beginning to seem as if their next album would have to feature liner notes that folded out into a magical castle for them to up the ante again. Instead, they simply didn't try, but rather recorded an inspired return to their personal, prosaic, English-major-y roots with a noticeable folk/country twist. The new direction is almost immediately recognizable in the twangy bass, church choir harmonies, and bright harmonica of the uplifting opener, "Don't Carry it All.’ “Rox in the Box’ serves as the requisite gambling song, playing like a tense poker game between its rollicking accordion and ominous fiddle. The uptempo group sing "Down By the Water" could almost pass for an Indigo Girls tune if it weren't for the unmistakable vocals of frontman Colin Meloy, the unify- t ing factor that makes everything The Decemberists attempt come out sound ing like a success Perhaps the greatest achieve ment on this lovely little record is the restrained, male/female duet of "June Hymn," a quiet recollecting of happy times in a country town The Decemberists have proved their epic mettle several times over, but it’s when these modern bards are at their small est that they show just how much they are capable of. ‘ David Fitzgerald OF! First Four EPs Vice This LA-based hardcore super group features an all-star lineup of scene veterans Keith Morris, original frontman of Black Flag and Circle Jerks, Dimitri Coats of Burning Bridges, Mario Rubalcaba of Rocket from the Crypt and Steven McDonald of Redd Kross. Morris, wtio helped define the first wave of West Coast hardcore punk that emerged during the late 70s. is surprisingly still slamming it out better than most musicians half his age. While First Four EPs may just seem like a rehash of Morris’ earlier career (take Black Flag's similarly titled The First Four Years anthology into consideration), that’s not necessarily such a terrible thing coming from someone>rho has influenced decades of musicians. Tracks such as “Panic Attack’ and "I Don't Belong* sound just as alienated and misanthropic as ever and would fit seamlessly into Black Flag's 1978 Nervous Breakdown EP. First Four EPs likeness to early hardcore even extends to its album art, designed by Raymond Pettibon, who was also responsible for creating Black Flag's popular four bar symbol and overall visual aesthetic. With 16 songs clocking in at just above the same number of minutes, this lean box-set contains all the tradi tional elements of true-to-roots hard core you'd expect, anthemic choruses, straightforward riffs and a barrage of ruthless percussion. The production, by no means polished or refined by industry standards, is regrettably a shade cleaner than the grittier and more inherently nihilistic recordings of the ‘80s, however. While Off! is in no way reinventing the wheel, the band's timeless energy is good at re-ioniting a hardcore spirit and demonstrating survival of the fittest at its best. Jessica Smith MONOTONIX Not Yet Drag City On this Steve Albini-recorded sophomore album, the Greatest Live Band on Earth continues to bash out its lusty collision of Blue Cheer's carving guitar heroics and The Stooges’ hot, vulgar virility. Trading in some mea sure of dynamism this time for sheer velocity, it is a redlining orgy of riffs and rawness tliat constantly threatens damage. But let’s not over-think things here. These Israeli savages are all about immediacy and power. Besides occasional guitar bombast, there's a crude, distorted minimalism about them that always keeps them sounding fresh, unfiltered and bold. Still, the songs here tend to be similar in an almost interchangeable way. But they're at least consistent and consistently electric, with full-on ragers like “Nasty Fancy," "Blind Again" and “Fun Fun Fun’ swinging the biggest dicks. Not Yet pales in comparison to their sometimes literally incendiary live shows, but that's a little like noting that TNT doesn't stack up to a nuke. True, but it's still something to be reckoned with. And any lecord Monotonix makes can only ever be the audio component of a wildly multi-sensory experience. But up against mere mortal records, it's a solid smear of rock and roll essence in ail its animalistic glory. Bao Le-Huu H FLAGPOLE.COM FEBRUARY 2,2011
