Record Review: Mile One

Mile One – Direction, (Pendulum Records)



History: Mile One was a group from West Central Minnesota –specifically, the Fergus Falls & Battle Lake area where I grew up – comprised of Pat Schmid (vocals), Paul Hermes (guitars), Chuck Hermes (bass), and John Schmid (drums). I vaguely knew Pat Schmid from friends-of-friends and teen dances in Battle Lake; and Paul Hermes dated my next door neighbor, so applying my analytical skillz, I can make the connections on why the band sounded the way they did. Like me, they were reared on the Minneapolis rock sound – The Replacements, Husker Du, The Suburbs, The Phones, Soul Asylum, Curtiss A, hell, anything on Twin/Tone Records. This influence is all over their records (especially The Replacements and The Suburbs), but these songs were not near mimics of their Twin Cities heroes. They incorporated much of the eighties college radio milieu into their songs, especially American indie bands such as R.E.M., The Connells, Guadalcanal Diary, The dB's, Let's Active who were all staples at the wild teenage dances at Stubb’s in Battle Lake. Thus, Mile One’s sound is a really great combination of Stones-and-Replacements guitar rock, spiked with early R.E.M. vocals (especially the backing vocals) and bass lines. Direction was their debut record released in 1986 on the Minneapolis upstart Pendulum Records. In 1988 they released a 12” single/EP for the song “Rest On Peace”, and in 1989 a cassette only full-length called Coolidge’s Suitcase which was much rockier, but still very solid (both were also released on Pendulum).The core of Mile One was Pat Schmid and the Hermes, but the band had their share of drummers with each release featuring a different person manning the kit. John Schmid played on Direction; he was replaced by Todd Petterson – who drummed on the 12” and two tracks on Coolidge’s Suitcase; and then Brad Mattson, a Minneapolis scenester who played in a variety of bands notably The Phones who morphed into Stickman. I saw Mile One play a handful of times (Stubb’s, Voigt’s Barn in Breckenridge, MN, an outdoor festival in St. Paul – I can’t recall the name, may have been Summerfest or something and probably other places that I can’t remember – doh!) and they always delivered big time – one highlight of their shows was a raunchy near-punk-rock cover of the Rolling Stones “Bitch”. This is probably stating the obvious: for whatever reason the band never hit the big time. They broke up in the late-eighties-early-nineites, Pendulum folded around the same time, and their entire oeuvre went out-of-print. I was always surprised that Mile One didn’t “make it” like other Minneapolis bands – as they were playing the Cities a lot at the height of the major label A&R reps drooling over seemingly any band with ties to the Minneapolis scene. Not knowing anything about the band’s situation at the time, I can only speculate: too similar to The Replacements? Not rocking enough ala Soul Asylum and Husker Du? Inter-band squabbling? Drugs? Alcohol? Problems with the label? All of the above? None of the above? All that’s left of Mile One are these recordings. And luckily I still have them and they still sound great. Flipping through the Twin Cities edition of the Onion AV Club last year, I noticed they played a reunion gig at the Uptown Bar. I got super excited, "How cool would that be to see them play again! After nearly twenty years!" As I noted the date, my spirits sank. I missed the show, because I saw the listing three days later.

In the mid-nineteen-eighties Minneapolis was the hottest scene in the United States. You are a discerning music listener, I know, so you know that and you are aware of what bands came out of Upper Midwest. Mile One were playing around the Twin Cities as The Replacements and Husker Du were ascending into the major label arena. This band, that got its start in West Central Minnesota, would never achieve the success of their slightly older peers, but that didn’t stop them from making great records. Direction, their debut, is a dynamic record full of rockers jam packed with dirty riffs and brooding, slo-burn sort-of-ballads. The songs are sequenced flawlessly, a perfect flow from tracks one through ten.

The band certainly does wear their influences on their sleeve, but they still craft their own sound. It’s undeniable that they exemplify The Minneapolis [Rock] Sound: real classic rock guitar heroics (think Keith Richards) saturated with the energy and fury of punk and post-punk. Paul Hermes’ guitar riffs and solos completely epitomize this. The leads are tight but all over the place, notes sustained and then stutter with fat three chord crunch. Vocally, the band is tapping hard into mid-80s era R.E.M. from Schmid’s near-falsetto to the extended “ohs” and “ahs” of the backing vocals (almost like instruments unto themselves). Still, Schmid’s phrasing is entirely distinctive; his delivery is earnest, quirky, and smooth.

Most of the songs are straight rockers, but each is infused with personal touches that turn the songs into decidedly Mile One songs. “Push-N-Pull” has a super funky, but intensely tense, feel; “Before I Die” recalls herky-jerk post-punk (perhaps they were going for early-era Suburbs, but it comes out like weird Wire); “Direction” has slap-bass (?!) and funky, Prince-d up guitar licks; and “Too Much Talk” exemplifies the band’s modus operandi – tight rhythm section (the drumming is fantastically steady, but still emotive), tons of riffs and licks that run the gamut from discreet to over-the-top, and Schmid’s characteristic delivery.

The band shows off their musicianship on “Don’t Impress Me”. The track is propelled by the solid walking bass line, crunchy guitars, and more steady-handed drumming. Lyrically, it’s a classic breakup song tweaked by some weird-but-cool lines, “Your corporate idols will talk to you today, well, tomorrow it will be the other way” and “Stop your giggles.” At the conclusion of the song, Schmid scream-sings, “What is this? Are you just a bitch? You’re just a bitch, you’re a bitch” and you know he means it. He sounds like he’s fallen on the floor drained and disgusted.

Unlike many of their contemporaries, Mile One wasn’t afraid to confront politics. The brooding, demi-ballad “Bomb Day” is what the title implies – a song about the consequences of war and nuclear holocaust (remember this was the mid-eighties). The extended guitar solo comes right off a Suburbs record and the acoustic guitar recalls The Church. “Politics Of Ruling” is an interesting track, in a way it is a political statement or, maybe better, an ethics class inside a pop song *. The vocals are handled by drummer John Schmid. The guitar recalls classic 60s garage rock – but slicker and tamer, except for a stellar totally shredding, but brief guitar solo. The application of congas (courtesy of Phones/Stickman frontman, Jeff Cerise) brings to mind a tribal-beat-poetry-reading angle to the track – certainly, it’s odd. “Suicide Sunday” finds the band tapping into another hot issue of the day: teenage suicide. The song is very somber, yet crazed due to some wild guitar riffing and layered haunting double melodies and choruses. One jarring, but cool moment, is the shift to a bridge that is a great R.E.M. imitation.

I’ve saved the best for last – “Anyone To Rhyme” and “All To Be Gone” are the poppiest moments on the record. From the punchy bass line to the guitar riffs that descend with Schmid’s silky melody (he is at his most restrained and the pay off his considerable) to the unrelenting melody, “Anyone To Rhyme” is five minutes of power pop heaven. I should point out the melody only acquiesces to several brief instrumental breakdowns (a trick employed by many Minneapolis bands of the time) which provide an excellent break from the relentless melody (I don’t mean that it’s harsh, it just moves constantly) – Hermes nails every note, flirting with your aural senses by ripping off slinky lines and, then, bending the notes hard. The chorus nods heavily to R.E.M.

The men of Mile One are wise putting “All To Be Gone” as the album’s closer. There is nothing but great classic pop songwriting here, a Herman’s Hermits sixties vibe permeates the track with double lead vocals and an awesome sing-along chorus. Chuck Hermes lays down a near-Hook-y bass line and Paul Hermes guitar is bouncy and playful – just the right amount of distortion and more of his tremendous solos-meets-minimal leads. John Scmid’s drumming is steady, steady, steady with perfect cymbal crashes and rolls. Like “Rhyme”, the lead vocals are restrained, sitting perfectly in Schmid’s range. “All To Be Gone” is chock full of the juiciest of hooks and just-clever-enough lyrics (“I don’t fit in society, I get along with everyone” then the next verse “I fit in society, I don’t get along with anyone”). The bridge is absolutely killer, and like all killer bridges, it takes the song to another level – in this case, the refrain finds joyousness in the frustration of living. If the folks at Rhino and Nuggets ever make a compilation of obscure eighties rockers, this is a song is a must.

Direction is really a phenomenal debut – I’d go so far to say that this is one of the best debut records of all time. Yes, oh-so near to Chronic Town, The Stone Roses, and Slanted And Enchanted. Serious. To think these four guys from small rural Minnesota towns could craft such addictive rock replete with juicy hooks and big choruses, it’s really remarkable.

Score: 74.05
MP3s: “Too Much Talk”, “Anyone To Rhyme”, “All To Be Gone”
File Under: Power.Garage.Pop/Minneapolis.Sound

* There is a part of the song that mentions a Sarah. This refers to Sarah Ann Reardon, a young girl who was found murdered in 1984 or 1985 after she didn't return home from school. The story made the national news with her father, John Reardon, making tearful pleas for Sarah to come home. It was a few months later that police discovered he was the killer, he was sexually abusing her and murdered her, throwing her body in a ditch miles from their home. The story had a profound impact on the communities of West Central Minnesota; an area where nothing “bad” ever happened. In a way, this was the most heinous of crime – a father who sexually abuses his daughter, murders her, and then pretends he had nothing to do with it deceiving not only the community, but state and nation.

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Heavy Rotation: Week Ending October 27, 2006

01. The Hold Steady – Boys And Girls In America, (Vagrant Records.2006)
02. Pernice Brothers – Live A Little, (Ashmont Records.2006)
03. “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance, (Reprise Records.2006)
04. “Young Folks” by Peter, Bjorn, and John (Witchita.2006)
05. White Whale – WWI, (Merge.2006)
06. The Brothers Martin – The Brothers Martin, (Tooth & Nail Records. Pre-release-2007)
07. Mile One – Direction, (Pendulum Records.1986)
08. Julian Cope – Autogeddon, (American Recordings.1994)
09. “Get Away” by 120 Days, (Smalltown Supersound/Vice.2006)
10. Mew - … And The Glass Handed Kites, (Sony BMG Music.2006)

The new Hold Steady was one of three or four records that I was dying to hear this year. If you read my Top Records of 2005, you know that Separation Sunday came in at number one. I wasn’t about to get my expectations too high, no sirree (or ma’am) – I heard that lead vocalist Craig Finn was “singing” more. It’s taken me a while to get use to Boys And Girls In America, but it’s finally sinking in. I do find it inferior to SS: the songs are slicker losing some of that dirty-teenage-drama-turned-wisdom edge; Finn’s delivery allows space which at time makes things awkward; it lacks the immediacy. Now, don’t get me wrong, the record is still pretty fucking hot. Finn still has some tremendous lyrics (and naturally I love all the Twin Cities references), but here’s the best: “She was a really cool kisser, and she wasn’t all that strict of a Christian/She was a damn good dancer, but she wasn’t all that great of girlfriend.” As I told a friend of mine, “I DATED HER TOO!” Like The Hold Steady record, for me, the new Pernice was highly anticipated release; and it is also a grower. I’ve concluded I’m not all that taken with the single, “Sommerville”, but that’s ok. The string of songs from track six through eleven is absolutely, undeniably bitchin’. I’m still confused by the re-working of “Grudge Fuck”. What exactly was wrong with the original?

My Chemical Romance has made their American Idiot (I don’t think it’s any coincidence with Rob Cavallo as producer), and “Teenagers” is the signature track (IMHO). I love the humor (“They say, ‘Teenagers scare the living shit out of me’”), the pastiche (the honky-tonk-50s geetar), and the sheer exuberance. So when I play “Young Folks” next to “Teenagers”, it is almost a reply: “We don’t care about the young folks, talking about young stuff”, but they continue by stating they don’t care about the “old folks” or “our own folks”. Naturally, I’m attracted to those lyrics! But damn if the song itself isn’t a slice of classic-pop-craft. The melody is sung in a semi-detached delivery, while the music has a understated groove.

See last week’s Heavy Rotation to read about White Whale. The record is a must have. The Brothers Martin record isn’t going to come out until early 2007, but I was lucky enough to be privy to a pre-release. This is the first true collaboration of Ronnie (Joy Electric) and Jason Martin (Starflyer 59), even though they did start their musical journey together in 1990 with Dance House Children. I would break it out into thirds: one-third are Joy E songs with guitar, one-third are Star F songs with guitar, and one-third are a wonderful amalgamation of the brothers’ songwriting styles. “Communication” is my favorite track – a serious rocker that opens the record with a heavy post-punk-disco back beat, warbled rocking guitars, and Ronnie’s trademark synth sound. The chorus is huge, Ronnie’s vocals soaring. Definitely an unexpected track. Ten tracks: four are super-strong and five are great, great songs. Yep, yep. If there is one detriment to the record, it’s that the Ronnie/Jason two-thirds sounds a lot, though not exactly, like Fine China (a band who had each Martin produce one their records). I really hope that they do another record together.

The Cope record is one underrated slab of kooky-pop-genius. Some really great songs, that are forgotten, dismissed, or despised by critics and the listening public. The best tracks are hooky as hell, from the garage-blues of “Autogeddon Blues” and “Madmax” (this acoustic track is only two shakes away from a Uncle Bob Pollard ballad) to Velvets-stomp of “I Gotta Walk” to the weirdo jams of “Paranormal In The West Country” and “Ain’t No Getting’ Round”. The best songs are "s-t-a-r-c-a-r" and "Don't Call Me Mark Chapman". “s-t-a-r-c-a-r” has Cope indulging full force into his krautrock love. And hell, it succeeds – an eleven-plus minute slo-burn, head trip to the end of the universe (hey, the post-punk-pagan-enviro-political-shamen wears off on me); it’s as if Damo Suzuki and Spiritualized played the motherfucking blues. “Don’t Call Me Mark Chapman” is a killer (pun intended) crazy-story track. It's kind of a bastard child of “Reynard The Fox” and middle-ages minstrel music. The spoken word portion is ridiculous and hilarious (in a good way – example: “All night Barry Manilow loud over the speaker system, just trying to drive the fucker out”) and poignant. These songs are perfect of examples why Julian Cope is a genius – he marches to his own beat, he does so with equal doses of bravado and self-deprecation, and his songs are always interesting regardless of style or convention.

I’m listening to Mew cuz of their awesome performance the other night. The 120 Days track is pretty hot if not a bit derivative (most definitely hitting that Brit-80s post-punk sound, as well as, current bands emulating it – discerning music listener, you know the bands), but I like how the multi-layered guitars and anxious vocals create the tension. Mile One – stay tuned.

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Song Review: "The Zookeeper's Boy"

“The Zookeeper’s Boy” by Mew from Mew, And The Glass Handed Kites, (Sony BMG Music.2006)
Live @ The Fine Line Music Café, Minneapolis, MN 10/25/2006
File Under: Dream.Prog.Pop

This track perfectly encapsulates what Mew is about: vast, unpredictable, indulgent, creepy, dynamic, mournful, weird, and elegant. Melodies and countermelodies careen around you; multiple extended hooks/mini-choruses flirt in a dance of domination and submission, Jonas Bjerre’s sublime vocals bob up and down like a buoy on the water, above the perfect execution of the tune.

This live performance definitely displayed more muscle, but still captured what is on the record, the vacillation between darkness and light. The herky-jerk-filthy guitar/bass riffs that comprise the track’s intro had a decidedly heavier crunch. On the verses, the bass pulsates, pounds and shakes your inner being as the rhythm guitar rang loudly and the punch of the snare crisply cracked. As on the proper recording, from the verse to the chorus, the transitions are seamless with Bjerre's vocals the foundation for it all.

The mantra-hook of “Are you, my Lady are you” took on a whole new experience in the live setting, not only was guitarist Bo Madsen’s rhythms louder and harsher, but the use of projected video intensified the mystery and curiosity of the song. A computer generated boy’s head (on a doll’s body) – this must be the Zookeeper’s boy – sings the words while dolls with animal heads with exaggerated mouths are singing the backing vocals while playing tiny violins or holding their arms as a ballerina readying for a plie. These creatures float above a pastoral setting which makes the whole shuh-bang simultaneously jarring and uplifting. The images were like manifestations of the subconscious, a place personal and strange. The hook/bridge (ridiculous as it is intriguing!) of “Time is just like a giraffe, you have to climb to find its head, but if there’s a glitch, you’re an ostrich, you’ve got your head in the sand” has the boy and the creatures floating in the clouds and singing while a herd of giraffes gallop behind them. As the instruments slowly drop out to the acappella ending, the song becomes otherworldly, your fingers tingle, and your head is dizzy. Seriously, it was that good.

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Record Review: The Legends

The Legends – Up Against The Legends, (Lakeshore Entertainment)



The Legends are a nearly anonymous* nine-piece (!) collection of men and women whose songs are decidedly pop, but drenched in jagged guitars, punchy bass, and lots of noise (squealing feedback, handclaps, distorted guitars, etc.). Yes, Pyschocandy-era The Jesus & Mary Chain comes to mind but so does the super-fast pop of the UK’s over-before-it-began C-86 scene (as the accompanying press bio states truthfully), shoegaze sympathies, and classic 60s Motown pop-R&B. As if I could stop there (!!): One could argue that the band has nicked the so-called Neo-Garage sound of The Strokes et al - the similarity is only valid in that The Legends know how to ride a good rhythm guitar line and employ distorted lead vocals - that’s just surface critique. The Legends are smartly tapping into the Source, and let’s be honest; The Strokes are fashionably licking the late-70s New York art/post-punk scene (it’s too easy to pick on The Strokes, isn’t it?).

Discerning music listener, the mantra is: “It’s about the songs” – and yes, the Legends have the songs; each packed tightly with solid bass lines, littered with handclaps galore, multiple minimalist leads that accentuate the melody while the rhythm guitar stays the course, working together in near perfection … it’s nearly sensory overload. But the songs aren’t bloated; this cacophony of sounds makes the listening experience that much more compelling. And compelling is this record. The amount of hits packed into the barely 30 minute record length are just sick.

“Right On” revolves, turns and twists, crackling with tension, dirtied up with dual rhythm guitars that are like nasty, snarling pit bulls. “Everything You Say” opens with just the lead vocals, tiny guitar strums, and handclaps, all seem strained through a transistor AM radio, then a grimy riff blasts the right channel and the song takes off into delirious pop superstardom. “Trouble Loves Me” has great two-note piano pounding, and a chorus that knocks your legs out from under you. “Make It All Right” gives off a GBV-by-way-of-The-Flatmates vibe thanks to the melody with clipped vocals and hyperactive rhythm guitar fusing sweetness with grit. A super-fast acoustic guitar line drives “The Kids Just Wanna Have Fun” on the verse; the chorus is a proclamation, carefree, unbridled, and proud. At the two-minute mark the instruments take over and the lead singer delivers an absolutely gigantic hook that would make countless songwriters insanely jealous. This is irresponsible bliss (simply one of the best songs of the year).

While The Legends joie de vive is these exhilarating pop-rock gems, they also properly get mellow. “There And Back Again” is indie-pop nicking Motown rather than The Three Bs (Beatles, Beach Boys, Byrds). “When The Day Is Done” exudes sweet melancholy (the haunting female backing vocals are a nice touch), going downtempo ala Trembling Blue Stars. Thick hairy guitar riffs, minimalist drum beats, and a murky melody (ala Joy Division) marks “Your Song”. As the weary verse succumbs to the chorus, the track literally lurches forward and no sooner, pulls back.

Up Against The Legends is devoid of filler. A catlike guitar line and driving rhythm guitar propels the opener, “Call It Ours”; handclaps and hi-hat are in perfect concert, while lead singer delivers a wonderful melody. The noisy chorus (complete with squeals of feedback) soars to the stratosphere; it is an anthem of youthful self-confidence (“We could have whatever we need, we could call it ours”). “Nothing To Be Done” is a fantastic indie-pop tune. “Breaking Time, Breaking Lines” is pop to nth degree, but rocks hard thanks to that TJAMC influence (with hints of the Cure low-end bass). The record ends on a high note with “No Way Out”, a rip-roaring Mary Chain drenched track, giant guitars, a slinky lead guitar line, and a brilliant melody.

Despite stellar songwriting, sharp-edged hooks, and finely crafted melodies, it’s baffling why the lead vocals are sent through the distortion effect. Rarely is this an effective technique, it begs The Strokes comparison (and all the baggage that brings). Further, it becomes tiresome. The fact that The Legends tread so closely to early The Jesus & Mary Chain is also disconcerting; there are many places where the drums and guitar parts are right off of Pyschocandy (the squealing feedback, thick guitars, and drums on “Breaking Time, Breaking Lines”, the breakdown on “There And Back Again” and the drums on the verses “Your Song” are a few examples). It’s always dangerous walk so close to the precipice of derivative: Is it homage or mimicry? Still, the gripes are irresolute, because the songs are so strong, reaching even the most pedestrian listener.

* The press kit doesn’t list the names of the band members, the only name to be found on the meager packaging (this could be packaging only for the promo that may differ from the proper release, I don’t know) is in teeny tiny print in the copyright section: “All songs written and produced by J. Angergard”. I suppose I could assume that J. Angergard is most likely the singer, but one can’t know for sure. In the history of rock there have been plenty of hired gun vocalists with a guitarist writing the songs (for example).

Score: 78.82
File Under: Scandi.Pop
reprinted from bandoppler.com (online publication) published: October 2004

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Heavy Rotation: Week Ending October 20, 2006

01. The Brothers Martin – The Brothers Martin, (Tooth & Nail Records. [pre-release]2007)
02. “Black” by Okkervill River, (Jagjaguwar.2005)
03. “Lexicon Devil” by The Germs, (Slash Records.1978)
04. Lady Sovereign – Vertically Challenged [EP], (Chocolate Industries.2005)
05. “Punk Rock Girl” by The Dead Milkmen, (Enigma/Restless.1988)
06. White Whale – WWI, (Merge.2006)
07. “TV” by Headlights, (Polyvinyl.2006)
08. Dragonforce – Inhuman Rampage, (Sanctuary.2006)
09. “Hang On, Girl” by Favourite Sons, (Vice.2006)
10. The New Pornographers – Mass Romantic, (Mint Records.2000)

“Hang On, Girl” is my favorite track to crank up on my way out of the office to the bus stop. It takes me exactly 4 minutes and 1 second to make the walk. This track has an underlying Bunnies groove that provides a swagger-soundtrack for my spent soul. The way frontman Ken Griffin (ex-Rollerskate Skinny) sings “girl” on the chorus is staggering, recalling Ian McCulloch’s vibrato. Another tremendous frontman was The Germs’ Darby Crash and on “Lexicon Devil”, Crash and The Germs gave us one of the greatest punk songs. The song transcends traditional three-chord punk with weird stabbing riffs and the drums never lay a beat per se, as drummer Don Bolles spends more time on the crash cymbal than the snare drum. Two-minutes of perfection. Another great song is “Punk Rock Girl” – silly, but at the same time endearing; and poignant (“Let’s go slam dance/We’ll dress like Minnie Pearl, just you and me punk rock girl” – “We went to a shopping mall and laughed at all the shoppers and security guards trailed us to a record shop”). The guitar solo is pure beauty. A very sweet song from those crazy Dead Milkmen jokesters. Lady Sovereign is no joke and this EP is still rocking me – from her “ESS OHH VEEE” falsetto proclamations to the jarring beats. I’m still not sure if Dragonforce is a joke – but it really doesn’t matter. You saw what I think of “The Flame Of Youth”, but really the entire record is hott. The closing track, “Trail Of Broken Hearts” is such an amazing monster power ballad that it will make your head spin. The changes from chorus to verse are sick, so absolutely sick. The bridge is over-the-top, I mean it totally ups the ante on any hair-metal power ballad. Yes, it puts fucking Whitesnake to shame! The chorus is huge, backed by an entirely way too huge bank of synth strings, it’s ridiculous and it’s uplifting. I'm not sure how long this record will continue to be interesting ... yes, brilliant songwriting, but some days the pop metal style is tough to handle.

The Headlights record isn’t too hot, but this song completely dominates. It has all you want in great songwriting, a solid melody, meaty hook, and a sing-along chorus. White Whale is the new band from Matt Suggs – ex-Butterglory, an indie rock that I always loved. “The Admiral” is the kind of drama pop that is hot with the kids (think Arcade Fire), but Suggs does it better. The dynamics are much more subtle, but no less intense. Maybe it’s the hint of late-era Elliott Smith, or just the fact that Suggs isn’t going to scream. The piano is this record’s secret weapon. The melodies put a many band’s to shame. This record is highly recommended. Thinking about Butterglory, made me think about some other indie pop/rock classics and I immediately pulled out Mass Romantic. These words I wrote in Bandoppler magazine a few years ago still ring true, “Unfortunately for the New Pornos, they have been tagged "Indie Rock". Fortunately for Indie Rock, this band shatters the stereotype. Their music is passionate and energetic while being well written, sumptuously arranged, and mind boggling catchy. Unbreakable hooks that stick in your head for months and relentless guitars that generate vibrant dance moves (at least in my living room). Their 2000 debut record, Mass Romantic, kicks off with the 'click' of sticks and doesn’t let up until a drunken chorus of fools takes you out of your mind.”

I never paid much attention to Okkervill River – mostly because of their moniker! Can you believe it? I thought they were some tenth.wave.alt.country. I’m not sure what possessed me to check ‘em out, but I did and this song is from their 2005 release, Black Sheep Boy. Pretty trad indie-pop-rock, but super catchy. I love the crappy lead vocals and the lyrics are stellar, if not sobering (a tale of a girl who was abused by a lame-ass father, and our hero will inflict serious violence on this deadbeat for what he did). The song moves forward, wraps around, falls all over itself, multiple choruses/mini-hooks are everywhere, and swells to the earnest exhortation – “You should wreck his life like he wrecked yours!” Never have I heard a song this heavy performed so joyously.

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Song Review: "The Flame Of Youth"

“The Flame Of Youth” by Dragonforce from Inhuman Rampage, (Sanctuary.2006)
File Under: Pop Metal

Honestly, there is nothing that confuses me more than Metal. Growing up in the 80s I refused to come anywhere near anything that even hinted of metal. And here I am, writing about the UK pop metal, err power metal (their term, not mine), group, Dragonforce. After several listens to “The Flame Of Youth”, it’s not all that surprising why I am writing about them. The musicianship is absolutely sick, technical as hell, mind-blowingly-fast, yet the actual song itself is not sacrificed.

The thing about Dragonforce is their songs are criminally addictive. Strip away the vibrato-rich-vocals, the over-the-top riffing, the Bon-Jovi-esque keyboard licks, the throbbing-double-kick drums, the fantasy-land lyrics, and you have fucking amazing pop songs … [pause] … power pop if that makes you discerning music listeners feel better. The energy and ferocity is unparalleled. You reach for your air guitar and play every lick, every riff, every solo, every hook like your life depends on it. This track has a hook that is awe-inspiring and a chorus that is fist-pumping/soul-soaring, it’s an anthem beyond all anthems. The instrumental portion is bonkers: the guitarists take turns shredding (using every fret), the keyboardist rips of complex line after complex line, then they all join in a cacophony of uber-technical jamming. The lead singer, ZP Threat, sings with such conviction, you can’t stop a smile from forming, damning all cynicism. This is what it means when great music transcends all barriers.

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Record Review: The Killers

The Killers – Sam’s Town, (Island Records)



“I think it's just one journalist going with what other journalists have said." – Ronnie Vannucci (drummer for The Killers) downplaying the Springsteen influence on the new Killers record; ABC News Radio, 10.10.2006

“Springsteen touches on the American dream, and that's everybody's dream. And it's such a great idea — whether or not it's still happening today. Most of the songs are about getting to that place, of making it to the Promised Land. I don't think it's about getting rich; it's the idea of working hard and having your castle in the sky. And that idea runs through the record.” – Brandon Flowers, MTV News, 05.02.2006

So, let’s get this out of the way: Yes. Sam’s Town, the new Killers record, definitely was influenced by The Boss (this does not mean that the records sounds like Springsteen, though the desire is evident). Fine. Dandy. Great. To you Mr. Vannucci – just don’t fucking deny it like that. Your lead singer was chatting up Springsteen all over the place (from MTV to Rolling Stone to Paste Magazine). So deal with it when people call it out. Moving on.

I’m not going to lie to you, discerning music listener, I was definitely excited to hear what The Killers would do on their follow-up to the semi-decent, Hot Fuss (I will completely stand by four songs from it). I had my expectations of what I wanted to hear – hoping the band would build on that 80s-new-wave-heavenly-pop-hit potential apparent on their debut. Naturally, when you begin talking about expectations, it's a precarious game. Still, in my mind, this is enough to generate anticipation for the follow-up. When I hear an anticipated record for the first time, rarely does it elicit a strong reaction. Typically, I give it time to breathe, to sink in, and then form my opinion. I will say that the new Killers record immediately struck me and not in a good way. I need to state that I didn’t buy this record. I found a site where I could stream the record. Thank my lucky stars for the Internet. Ok.

The debut record sold something like 6 million copies, so not surprisingly, there has been much press and interest in what the proverbial next move would be. The hype machine was spitting out something, a carnival of sorts that concerned me greatly. Brandon Flowers, the band’s face and fashion, was spouting off on how goddamned important this record would be (yes, he said this: “This album is one of the best albums in the past 20 years. There's nothing that touches this album. And that sounds like I'm being cocky, but I'm just so excited.”); how it was very much his Springsteen record (see above), etc. etc. blah blah. OK. These grandiose statements begged for extreme criticism, and he and his band deserve what follows.

The first single, “When You Were Young” is indeed white hott – something that I was expecting, but not entirely a re-working of “Mr. Brightside” or “Somebody Told Me”. Even though the track is plump full of retarded lyrics, some very bizarre backing vocals, and lead vocals that remind me of Meat Loaf more than The Boss, it’s definitely catchy enough (I’ve woken up to the chorus searing my brain). The transition from verse to chorus and back demonstrates the pop songwriting perfection The Killers can achieve. “Read My Mind” is kind of cool with the understated synth riffs, bass lines, and guitar licks complementing a U2-ish melody quite well.

But other than these two tracks, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I haven’t heard something so weak, so pretentious, so godawful in years (both musically and lyrically). Nothing can salvage the record. The crimes are legion! One glaring example is “Uncle Johnny”. The misguided earnestness and terrible vocals (warbling and moaning and cooing, shit) that actually includes a wail: “UNNNCLE JOHHHNNNNY IS ON COCAAAIIIIINE!!” Seriously. Kick me in the face, so I can get away from that shit. Sure, he may be telling some freaking awful true life story – Flowers gives the background, his Uncle was a big time druggy and only saw the light when he attempted to shoot his own balls off in the bathtub – but to be done in this way, this badly, it trivializes the seriousness of the subject matter – it renders it flaccid by the over-simplistic summarization and terrible vocal wailing (not even Eddie Vedder could be so shitty!).

I’m sorry, I cannot leave it alone. And, what the fuck is this pompous proclamation that this is Flowers’ so-called “Springsteen” record? No. My god, shoot me now – if this steaming-peanut-strewn-shit-log (JBaze, I’m paying royalties) is a Springsteen record, then I’m fucking a log that has been hollowed out with a mini-chainsaw while a chimp throws its shit in my face and Mel Gibson whips me with his cat-of-nine-tails and my wife watches and loves it! It’s a fucking insult to Springsteen (and I’m not a Springsteen fan, so I have no reason to take such offense). It’s even more of an insult to run around telling every media outlet that you’ve made your Springsteen record, that Sam’s Town is this vast sprawling tale of real America or of achieving the American Dream or whatever the fuck you are getting at. Shit. Seriously! Why don’t you just say you made the best record in 20 years? Oh fuck. YOU DID SAY THAT. Fucking bamboozler.

The production is absolutely over-the-top, making the record so huge and bombastic that it drowns the songs. I can’t even begin to comprehend the presence of gang vocals (on several tracks, even). Song after song is filled with lyrics that are serious groaners, the muscles in my eyes were exhausted for all the eye-rolling I was doing. I seriously hope I never have to listen to another note of this record … except “When You Were Young” – now that is some pop hit.

Score: 38.92
Stream: “When You Were Young"
File Under: 2006.New.Releases

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Heavy Rotation: Week Ending October 13, 2006

01. Starflyer 59 – My Island, (Tooth & Nail.2006)
02. “Welcome ToThe Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance (Reprise Records.2006)
03. The Killers – Sam’s Town, (Island Records.2006)
04. “Easy” by The Church, (Cooking Vinyl.2006)
05. Phoenecia – Brownout, (Schematic.2001)
06. Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 – Lovelyville, (Matador Records.1991)
07. Yo La Tengo – I Am Not Afraid of You And I Will Beat Your Ass, (Matador Records.2006)
08. “Lloyd, I’m Ready To Be Heartbroken” by Camera Obscura, (Merge Records.2006)
09. Mojave 3 - Puzzles Like You, (4AD.2006)
10. “Sound Of Your Name” by Le Concorde, (????.2006)

As you can see, I’m still loving the new Yo La Tengo (the 10+ minute closing track, “The Story of Yo La Tengo” and “Beanbag Chair” are my most recent favorites). If you haven’t picked up the new Mojave 3, I completely recommend you do so. Pronto! Halstead has pretty shed all of his alt.country tendencies (the downtempo songs have a bit, kind of like Dylan), a process he began on 2004’s The Spoon & The Rafter. This is wonderful music for the season: a cup of strong coffee in hand, the smell of leaves turning, and the crisp, cool autumn air on your cheeks.What results is easily their best record. Camera Obscura’s homage of sorts to Lloyd Cole is a stunning single, scrumptious. As is the new My Chemical Romance! Actually, my daughter turned me on to this track – sure it’s cheesy, it’s over-the-top, and overblown, but it hits in all the right ways for a cheesy, over-the-top, overblown pop song. But what works is the pure pop songwriting genius – the giant hook, the flawless chorus, the crazy bridge, the intensity of the performance. They may be taking a cue from Green Day in crafting a track with multiple parts, but MyCR does it in four minutes rather than nine-plus. What is going on with The Church? These Aussies are making great music well past their heyday (ahem.). “Easy” is simply classic, and I mean classic early 80s, Church – Kilbey’s vocals are perfect; Willson-Piper and Koppes guitar work is sublime, and the mandolin is beautiful. The way this thing ebbs and flows, slows down, speeds up, moves forward and backward is only accomplished by genius songwriters. The Thinking Fellers record was a one I downloaded on a hunch from eMusic. I was attracted to the comparisons to The Fall, but after hearing the record, it's how these songs predicted the Indie Rock Era (ala Pavement and GBV). Definitely underrated. The Phoenecia record also came to me via a recommendation on eMusic. This is abstract, experimental electronic music with hints of melody and substance. A great record. Le Concorde is an indie-synth-y-pop dude from Chicago, and this track is gorgeous. There is definitely a serious dose of nostalgia (the opening is very Pyschedelic Furs), but the songwriting transcends this – the melody is breathy and breezy, the hook is enormous, and the chorus is amazing. Le Concorde reminds me of the brutally underrated Fine China. You can stream (and download a low bit rate MP3) at his MySpace site. The Killers. Stay tuned.

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Song Review: "Foreign Eyes"

“Foreign Eyes” by Your Loving Tiger from Wake Up, (.2006)
File Under: Local.Avant.Garde.Indie.Rock

What would it sound like if Guided By Voices, Hefner, and Neutral Milk Hotel were fused together? Your Loving Tiger. Well, at least on this track. This trio (Bob Carlton, Paul Puleo, Luc Parker) is one of the most interesting new-ish bands on the Twin Cities scene (I’ve been following their progress for a couple years). Their songwriting is quite diverse, but seems to be based on incorporating pop sensibility with avant-garde tendencies. Considering this statement, the results could be muddled – but as many experimental popsters from the past (and present) have shown, the results can be exhilarating. This track exemplifies the latter.

“Foreign Eyes” opens with a delicate melody played on a toy xylophone, soft rhythm guitar, and steady muffled bass drum beat. Lead singer Bob Carlton (I think. Did some googling and I’m still not sure based the various press/blog data I examined) comes in with his cracked-shit vocals (I mean that in a good way) accompanied by hand claps and zany slide guitar antics. At the halfway point the hook is delivered and the song takes off with frantic fuzzed out C86ed guitar and bass with the drummer bashing the hell out of his set. I’m not a fan of silly music, and this song is kind of silly, but it's also smart. The lyrics are goofing around with irony (“I love the way you walk, I love the way you talk, there’s nothing beautiful about it”), yet at the same time are sadly charming on the excellent chorus: “I said darling won’t you come and play with my heart, I know it’s not the one that you want, but I might … Big deal!” The track closes with the entire band joining in on some fun “Woo-ooo”-ing over an all out jam.

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Record Review: The Walkmen

The Walkmen – A Hundred Miles Off, (Record Collection)



The Walkmen make difficult records. I’m not necessarily talking about the construction of the songs, this isn’t experimental pop – the songs are quite true to the verse/chorus/verse convention – and it’s not the depth of the lyrics, or the execution of the music. It’s the whole entire sound and feel of the record. From yelping vocals to the down-the-hall-around-the-corner-in-the-gymnasium sound of the guitars to catatonic/chaotic rhythms and idiosyncratic riffs, these records are tough. It isn’t hard to listen, but to continue to listen to the entire record … straight through … without interruption, that’s the hard part.

This is the band’s third release, and when it comes to The Walkmen, there is one thing I certainly understand: a record by The Walkmen takes repeated listens. You have got to spend the time.

The most noticeable difference from previous records is the front-and-in-your-face vocals of Hamilton Leithauser. Sure, if you aren’t averse to his styling, that may not sound too bad. Personally, I do dig them, but on A Hundred Miles Off his yelp is cranked (I could say “bark”, but that’s not quite right – Rollins has a bark, that dude from Pantera has a bark, HL most definitely yelps, maybe yaps … but then … no). This vocal issue really come to a head on the fifth track, “All Hands and the Cook”, where he splats the words out and they are nearly unintelligible. Yes, this really turned me off to the record. Initially. Let’s hold on a second here, discerning music listener, I'm not through yet.

Obviously there is more to any recording that simply the vocals. Sequencing of the songs is crucial, especially in the case of a band like this. The flow of the record needs to convey the story (don’t confuse this with concept records, though), the dynamics - passion and resignation. So the record opens with “Louisana”, an odd choice because it does bring to mind songs like “Hootenanny” by The Replacements; I’m not entirely sure if it’s dripping with pastiche or homage to the mariachi band (HL’s “ya-ya-ya’s” on the horn interludes is bizarre yet appropriate). Actually, I’m sure it’s not a joke. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, because the track does, in a peculiar way, set the tone for the entire record.

The key is to get to track four where the record really takes off. “Emma, Get Me a Lemon” is one of the more immediate songs on the record with some crazy, but captivating drumming, strong power chords segue into pretty jangle guitars, a languid bass line as Leithauser yowps and yelps. This would be a hit in a more open pop universe. On the next track, “All Hands and The Cook”, things get unnerving and thorny (check out the Mo Tucker tribal drums and effect laden guitar). As I stated earlier, the words are clipped and yelped beyond recognition. As the track goes on, he smoothes it out and the sine-curve spikes flatten out and it’s a very, very nice song (one of the best on the record). But the tough part is actually fighting the urge to punch the fast forward in those first sixty-four seconds.

When you get to the stretch from “Lost In Boston” (track 6) to “This Job Is Killing Me” (track 9), the record finally coalesces, everything is conjoined. “Boston” begins innocently enough but after the second chorus, the track crescendos with anger, violence, and dissonance. It’s with a giant change and massive power chord on the right side of the two-minute mark does the song soar and Leithauser’s yelp fits perfectly. Squealing feedback and massive drum rolls accentuate the urgency, but effortlessly drop out as Leithasuer returns to the chorus, spent and exhausted.

A near eardrum-piercing riff, (more) tribal drumming, and Leithauser’s yelp open “Don’t Get Me Down” – again, here the band plays jarring dynamics, but complete the jump to the point of no return. When Leithauser yelps, “Shelia! Don’t get me down!” it’s not only a plea, but exoneration. He nails it. It’s weird when the handclaps come in (typically, the device used by indie popsters to emphasize gleeful melody). “Tenley Town” is a scorcher! Straight up, fucked up, 80s hardcore punk rock, so full of energy and determination, absolutely awesome. “This Job Is Killing Me” is in the vein of “All Hands and the Cook” – with plenty of weirdness – Wild West saloon piano, clickety-clack-noisy percussion, spiny guitar riffs, yet it’s raucous. The record ends with a lovely Dylanized cover of “Another One Goes By” (a song originally done by Walkmen peers, the underrated Mazarin).

Like 2004’s Bows + Arrows, The Walkmen have made an indie rock record that is about movement and transition. The joys of going out give way to the tedium of the Scene (not just the music scene); choosing to accept corporate whoredom or finding some balance, taking the shit with the shine, simply realizing that you’ve lived and there is haze and clarity – and you say, “Yeah. Now what the fuck.” The tunes are like novellas with depth and experience. The group completely captures the reality that life isn’t all shows and magazines and cheap beer, you get old. In other words: music for the geezer crowd. A Hundred Miles Off is tapping into the same inspiration – you can call it existential or spiritual or universal or whatever. The truth is that the music is sophisticated and artful, and the words are organic and real.

Score: 75.33
Stream: "Emma, Get Me A Lemon"
File Under: 2006.New.Releases

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Heavy Rotation: Week Ending October 6, 2006

in no particular order ...

01. Pernice Brothers – Live A Little, (Ashmont Records.2006)
02. Various Artists – ACM Journal Compilation #2, (ACM Journal.1991)
03. “Ch Ching (Cheque 1-2 Remix)” by Lady Sovereign, (Chocolate Industries.2005)
04. Two Pound Planet – Songs From The Hydrogen Jukebox, (Alternative Records.1993)
05. The Walkmen – A Hundred Miles Off, (Record Collection.2006)
06. “The Flame Of Youth” by Dragonforce, (Sanctuary.2006)
07. “Reynard the Fox” by Julian Cope, (Mercury.1994)
08. Yo La Tengo – I Am Not Afraid of You And I Will Beat Your Ass, (Matador Records.2006)
09. “Punchlines” by Mates Of State, (Barsuk Records.2006)
10. Starflyer 59 – My Island, (Tooth & Nail.2006)

Over the past month (but not so much in the past week), I’ve been on a real Julian Cope kick. My favorite stretch of Cope records goes from 1991’s Peggy Suicide through 1994’s Autogeddon – it’s his environmental-shamen-pagan-warrior-cultural-pyschologist-poet-critic phase. These records are so diverse: straight up UK pop, krautrock experiments, pysch-garage rock, electronica, proto-anti-folk, etc. Very underrated stuff. “Reynard the Fox” isn’t from this period – it’s from Fried which was his second post-Teardrop Explodes release (which isn't a bad record, ho-hum); but, yes, “Reynard” is quintessential Cope – extremely catchy pop mixed with psychedelia, but also very weird (the spoken word part leaves me speechless). He pays homage to Them’s “I Can Only Give You Everything” by copping that song’s guitar riff (an aside: which Beck also copped on “Devil’s Haircut”). The new Pernice is still sinking in – “Cruelty To Animals” continues to stand out and I can’t decide if I love or hate “Sommerville” which is a total Teenage Fanclub ripoff (or is homage? I’m asking you, Joe Pernice). Another new release that I do have my mind made up is the new Yo La Tengo. It is blowing me away – and I tend to not like YLT records. The album title just might be my favorite ever. Speaking of bands I don’t particularly care for, Mates Of State! They aren’t terrible, but never really caught my ear. This track is from their newest record, Bring It Back and is totally like a less difficult Fiery Furnaces. The best part is at the two-minute-twenty-second-mark, the song shifts abruptly and takes off into an amazing coda. Lady Sovereign is coming to Minneapolis in November, this track still kills me. The ACM Journal comp and Two Pound Planet are obscure Christian indie records – the comp is extremely spotty, but there are a few great tracks (Blue Trapeze, Harborfield Gathering, Martyr, The Primaries and The Biscaynes). Two Pound Planet was a North Carolina power pop band playing classic power pop – that is, the late 70s/early 80s variety – with, occasionally, a hint of Replacements. This is a tremendous record and was produced by none other than Mitch Easter (in the near future, look for a full-fledged review here at TINE). I’m digging the new Starflyer 59 – you already know how I feel about “Mic the Mic”, but that isn’t the best track. Check out “Nice Guy”, “Ideas For The Talented”, and “Lifegaurd” (which sounds like the down-tuned cousin of “I Drive A Lot”). The rest? Well … it’s StarF. You know. Oh yeah, The Walkmen? Wait until next Tuesday.

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Song Review: "Mic the Mic"

“Mic the Mic” by Starflyer 59 from My Island, (Tooth & Nail Records.2006)
File Under: Indie Rock

Ever since 1998’s The Fashion Focus, Starflyer 59 has practically/nearly rejected indie guitar god heroics (at least of the early 90s shoegazer variety) for a more diverse pop-oriented approach. Any fan of the band knows that J.Martin is on that never-ending journey for pop song perfection. Each record since TFF has at least two strong contenders; “Mic the Mic” is another and it’s from Martin’s latest long player. The melody is pretty much standard J.Martin – tired, slightly distant, world-weary, but smooth and catchy. It doesn’t stop there, the grooving big-dumb-sex guitar riff, the slinky lead guitar, the punchy bass and the steadiest backbeat makes this one of his funkiest. The song really hits it a high on the bridge, Martin croons, “I’ve made my mistakes, that’s what you say, don’t count them always, I’ve made my mistakes, that’s what you say” and upon conclusion of those lines, it is immediately back to the chorus. The track is a wonderfully compact rocker with perfect changes and the best part – it constantly moves, never letting up.

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Record Review: The Black Angels

The Black Angels – Passover, (Light In The Attic Records)



The religious holiday of Passover celebrates God’s deliverance of the Israelites from years of enslavement at the hands of the Egyptians. God worked this out via a terrible and disturbing final act of plague: the killing of the first-born children. Moses instructed the Israelites to smear the blood of the sacrifice on their doorposts to avoid this violence, and in doing so the Lord spared his obedient people while destroying the first born of the Egyptians. This final plague breaks the Pharaoh (his son is killed) and the Israelites are freed. One must consider this event when understanding why the title choice for the newest release from The Black Angels is apropos. It’s not the deliverance that comes to mind, but that horrific and extraordinary act of God.

If you care to spend the time, Passover is an extremely interesting listen. The first time through, the record is another 60s garage rock revival jamfest; you know the scene – and the band executes it well – but there is a definite bleakness to the songs; there is too much tension and certainly not enough idiot-joy to be labeled “hippy rock.” This simmer of sinister darkness bathed in 60s blues-psych drown the hippy with heavy-fuzzed-out guitars, unsettling organ riffs, and low-end rumbling bass. Passover is dirge-like, paranoid, brooding, and desperate.

“Young Men Dead” and “The First Vietnamese War” emanate the dirty-druggy-haze of 13th Floor Elevators (also from Texas, and, they even include Roky Erickson in the THANKS to) and the sludge of early Black Sabbath. Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd gets props on “The Sniper at the Gates of Heaven” – a song thick with fear (“Don’t stop moving, they’re right behind you” and “What is it like when hell surrounds you?”). The excellent “Call to Arms” owes greatly to The Velvet Underground. That’s a lot of classic influences and all of this further implies that The Black Angels are simply garage revivalists (L.A.’s The Warlocks immediately come to mind). Yes, there is truth in that statement, but this isn’t all there is to this record.

These Black Angels are also tapping into the more angular and groove oriented strains of the post-punk tradition. “The Prodigal Sun” contains layers of ear-ringing feedback and jagged lead guitar riffs. “Black Grease” and “Manipulation” ride a post-punk orgone accumulator through that 60s filter to create a serious groove, accentuated with plenty of tension. Going further, “Empire” is only a tick mark away from copping classic Public Image Ltd. “Bloodhounds on My Trail” is the perfection of this approach – it’s like CCR playing Joy Division with Maas’ drawl more pronounced and the multiple minimalist drum rolls standing out front.

The great rock-write cliché is that in times of political frustration, economic downturn, and war, rock bands are modern day prophets, wagging fingers and boldly speaking out. Mostly, this is wishful thinking. Yet, I have to admit that Passover seems to be rising to the so-called occasion. The record is indeed influenced by our turbulent times with its songs about war, death, and fear. Lead singer, Alex Maas, uses a fairly sober delivery that he compliments impeccably with moans and hollers. At times he moves his voice low to emphasize the destruction of life and relationship; divulging the sins of the powers-that-be and then damning them. This integration of words and grooves and heavy riffage is where The Black Angels nail it hard.

So, the record’s solid? Partly. The band has created a throwback record that vacillates between playing it straight and fucking it up with the darkest post-punk. It’s not a struggle for identity, but there is a sense that something is missing. While no song is infectiously memorable here, that isn’t the point. It’s the groove as prophecy, that plague is coming and all is not right. And maybe that’s the best way to appreciate Passover.

Score: 71.63
Stream: 4 songs from Passover
File Under: 2006.New.Releases

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