Archive for the ‘Punk’ Category


Chicago Music Festival Report

April 14, 2010

In 2008, I went to a single day of the Pitchfork Music Festival and all three days of Lollapalooza. In 2009, I did the opposite and went to all three days of Pitchfork and a single day of Lollapalooza. This Summer I’m happy to say I’ll be able to do all three days of both. I have my lovely grandmother who bought me Lollapalooza tickets a a surprise.

A dramatic reenactment of our phone conversation:

“Grandma! Those tickets must have been awfully expensive!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve been saving up quarters.”

Anyway, I thought I’d give my two cents on both festivals’ lineups.

Lollapalooza has ace headliners this year, and they’ve got the goods to call on legions of rock ‘n roll fans throughout the country.

The more mainstream leaning headliners are very strong. Soundgarden is this year’s alt-rock headliner, and the festival’s older devotees and 90’s rock fans will jump to see one of the band’s first reunion shows. Green Day, though they have lost some indie fans since their glory days, have more than enough star power to fill a stadium, and they will probably change the face of the crowd this year. But the real game changer this year, on a brilliant booking move by Perry Ferrell is the pop juggernaut Lady Gaga, who will sell thousands upon thousands of tickets for Lollapalooza. She’ll attract pop fans, preteens and hipsters alike. It stands that not many, if any other festivals have the means or the balls to pull this kind of headliner.

The indie rockers will be drinking tears of joy this year based on the presence of The Arcade Fire alone, who are due for a tour and a new album. They have been out of the live circuit for a while, but they are more than strong enough of a band to make the headliner slot. The Strokes are also a dazzling attraction. Like the Arcade Fire, they’ve also been out of commission for a long time and they’ll enjoy widespread excitement and ticket sales in response to their headlining spot. But the year’s left field headliner is Phoenix, who due in large part to their 2009 album “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix” have skyrocketed to the top of the indie food chain, and this slot will be great for Lollapalooza as well as Phoenix, who will consequently get a huge crowd and massive cred regardless of who they go up against in the lineup.

There’s more than enough other shit to keep just about everyone shelling out cash for at least a one day ticket:  Jimmy Cliff and Devo for the older crowd, Slightly Stoopid for the hippies, The Black Keys for the blues fans, AFI for the emos (they’re still around?), Erykah Badu for R&B and funk fans, and Social Distortion and Gogol Bordello for the punks. Perhaps more importantly, there is a large selection of big indie names on the lineup: The New Pornographers, Spoon, The National, Hot Chip, The Dirty Projectors, Yeasayer, The xx, Stars, Matt & Kim and, my favorite, The Walkmen.

Lollapalooza may have a lot of great acts, but Chicago’s biggest indie festival The Pitchfork Music Festival is comparable if not greater in terms of amount of sheer talent.

As with previous years, there is a whole slew of artists at the Pitchfork Festival that you won’t be able to see in too many other places this summer. From the start, Pavement was the festival’s big seller, probably being the major reason that three day passes sold out within the week they were available. The band have reunited for a tour in support of their compilation album “Quarantine the Past,” and we all couldn’t be happier to have the chance to see them live. The other two headliners, Modest Mouse and LCD Soundsystem, are also sought after bookings this Summer, and they sealed the deal.

But there is much more to rabble about beyond the headliners. Wolf Parade, Liars, Broken Social Scene and St. Vincent are also strong sellers. Other stuff you’ll hear me making noise about: Sleigh Bells, Alla, Kurt Vile and The Tallest Man on Earth.

The festival’s hip hop lineup this year is as strong as it has ever been, featuring the likes of Raekwon, Big Boi and El-P. You’ll see me in the crowd for all three.

There are some other very special acts that you probably won’t be able to see in many other places this Summer, particularly Robyn, Panda Bear, Dam-Funk, Major Lazer, and Lightning Bolt.

In terms of the past year’s up and coming Beach Pop scene, Pitchfork has nearly half of the major bands covered: Beach House, Delorean, Real Estate, jj, Girls, Neon Indian, Surfer Blood, Best Coast and Washed Out will all make appearances, plus the likes of Local Natives, Free Energy, and The Smith Westerns, who are though not exactly beach pop are closely related in style and popularity.

Lollapalooza will always have the capacity to bring together acts that will sell hundreds of thousands of tickets, and still have a strong selection of indie bands on tap. Though smaller and more geared towards a specific crowd, The Pitchfork Festival’s lineup this year has finally matched Lollapalooza’s in terms of sheer talent and diversity. We’ve got two great major music festivals lined up for the Summer, and I’m excited for both.


Stationary/Moving Pictures

February 24, 2010

It is early in the evening and I am reading John Dos Passos. And I am listening to Stars of the Lid, because Stars of the Lid make the only music that I can listen to while studying. Their drones and long-held notes frame my existence for short periods of time before they shift into another form.

I have been extremely tired lately. Tired, apathetic, lethargic. But not depressed or anxious, which is a big change. But my limbs are very heavy, I don’t have much motivation to do much, and I can’t seem to get excited about anything. This is not to say that I feel that things bore me or that I feel as if I’m above being excited by anything in my life right now. I realize that this is a personal problem and I would like to rectify it, but I’m not sure what I can do. Exercise is a possibility, but the thought of going to the gym makes me tired and uncomfortable, but it would still most likely be a good idea. In any case, I just find myself wanting to retreat to bed almost all the time, and when I have time planned to do something like study, read or write, I’m often just stricken with a really overwhelming sleepiness. If I then do go lay down on the couch or my bed, I can’t close my eyes and go to sleep, and so I get bored, get out of bed, go somewhere, and the cycle begins anew. Writing and music are still things I spend time on, but mostly because I’m bored, and they don’t really excite me like they used to. Maybe someone would just call all of this laziness, and it very well might be, but that I haven’t really pinned it as this makes me think there is more to it than that. My psychiatrist didn’t seem to take much notice of it when I told him about it, but my counselor did. I’ll ask my psychiatrist about it again when I next see him, and I’ll continue to explore the issue weekly with my counselor.

I feel like I need to remove myself from this time and place. I can’t do either but I can at least pretend, and maybe that would make me feel somewhat better. I’m going to take a cheese grater to my jeans tonight. I’ve been showering every other day, and I don’t find myself to be smelly. I’ve been listening to Love Battery and Hole, and Nirvana are beginning to excite me again. I’m going to buy converse sneakers, next time I need a new pair of shoes. I’ll probably buy a pack of Turkish Golds and get rid of the pack very, very slowly. I’m wondering why it is exactly that I want to do all this. I’m thinking there may be a deep seeded reason, some kind of desire for a certain culture that I never got to experience. A lot of people may call it pretending to be something I’m not. I don’t think that. I think it’s finally becoming someone I want to be. My biggest hate is people pretending to be someone else. “Myself” is someone I know deeply and closely, and it’s about time I let him out as much as humanly possible.

This week I’ve been reading Faulkner’s “As I Lay Dying” for my class on American Literature from 1865 to the present day, and I’ve been enjoying the hell out of it. Granted, the thing is exhausting. I can typically only stand to sit and go through about five to ten pages at a time, because the way it is written is exhausting and hard to follow. But it seems pretty self-evidently brilliant. Faulkner’s characters are just incredibly human, despite the fact that their actions and the way they are written is quite surreal. The story seems to be viewed through a blurred looking glass, the immediate, stream-of-consciousness perspectives of individual characters. It is a willfully difficult story and Faulkner clearly knew this, but still there are many rewards to be found here, though I’ve yet to isolate more than a few of them, and there are no doubt more. I need to teach a class session on this book, and I’m looking forward to that. I think it will be refreshing and informative to have a conversation with my class about this book.

I am looking for things to take pictures of. I want to get through this last roll so I can develop what I have and get back the pictures of the snow filled Washington DC. It is supposed to snow again tonight, a lot. I’ve heard upwards of a foot. Maybe more pictures? Hopefully my aunt will send me the old camera soon, the antique. I would love to take pictures with it. I want to pursue photography now that I have a camera, even though I’m not in a photography class anymore. If you would let me take pictures of you, please let me know.

For now, more Stars.




Off This Century – My Favorite Albums of 2000-2009

December 25, 2009

Pitchfork Festival 2009

August 4, 2009

This year was my first year attending all three days of the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago, and it was a great success, not just for me as a music fan and concert goer but also for the vast majority of the bands there and for Pitchfork as an organizer. I had a blast all weekend, and I saw a ton of bands play great shows. I typically find myself reluctant to stay in one place for a long time at festivals like this, and the Pitchfork Festival is in a smaller park that is easily navigable, so it wasn’t hard for me to zip around and see many acts for maybe as long as half of their total sets, and that’s just fine. I like that wider exposure to live music, and the more the merrier. Unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures at the festival this year, and I’m not about to steal anyone else’s for my own use, but I do think a visual accompaniment to descriptions of this festival are important, so I’d like to direct you to Pitchfork’s coverage of the festival, which is just getting started but has some pretty great pictures and interviews up for your enjoyment.

There are also some great videos up on with more to come, and I would recommend you check those out too. Also, youtube and google are always your friends. A simple “[band name]” + “Pitchfork Festival” search on either will yield positive results for both videos, reviews and pictures, so go for it.

I don’t think there is a better way for me to really start talking about the weekend then to just dive in, so I’ll start with the first day and just plow through.


On Friday, just four bands were slated to play uncontested, elongated sets in the beautiful Union Park. Chicago band Tortoise was the first band to play, as well as the first band to adhere to the “You Write the Night” lineup, which involves bands playing songs that ticket buyers have voted for via online polls. With Tortoise, this didn’t matter so much to me, because I don’t know Tortoise well enough yet to mention songs I really like by them, at least beyond stuff on Millions Now Living Shall Never Die, which I have always liked. The show was slow moving and highly textured. This was very much a hushed and atmospheric show, which while interesting enough to listen to wasn’t particularly interesting to watch. We left early to get good spots for Yo La Tengo, because although we liked Tortoise well enough, we were getting kind of bored. The fact that we left the Tortoise show so early meant something, and I would learn soon enough exactly how it influenced the rest of the weekend.

Yo La Tengo completely embodied the contrasts of types of live shows that I would end up seeing during the weekend and in turn became even more of a foreshadowing of the weekend to come. The band’s meticulous show involves both hushed, quieter pop arrangements (“Stockholm Syndrome,” “Mr. Tough,” “Autumn Sweater”) and loud, winding noise pieces (“Pass the Hatchet I’m Feeling Goodkind,” probably the longest song performed at Pitchfork this year). Some friends I know who have already seen Yo La Tengo in smaller club environments said the band suffered a bit from the festival setup, but I think they were a great deal of fun and are a band that excel in any environment. Once again, their songs contrast with one another, some being soft pop pieces, and others loud noise jams, when Ira Kaplan does things with a guitar I never thought possible.

The show that weekend I was easily the most excited about was The Jesus Lizard. I’d psyched myself up for that show for weeks, really gotten pumped about it, got there early in order to get pretty close, and could barely contain myself by the time the band went on. I would be disrespecting both myself and the band if I called it anything other than the best show I’ve ever seen. David Yow couldn’t have affirmed everyone’s hopes any better than by screaming “AW, SHADDAP!” into the mic before they tore into “Puss” with Yow launching himself into the audience and crowd surfing. Getting back on the stage and having the entire crowd yell along with him “get ‘er outta the truck!” was easily one of the greatest moments of the entire festival.

Yow is the spirit of the band, his vocals menacing and apparently not diminished in the slightest despite the band’s ten year absence. What also struck me is how fearless he was to crowd surf. The band members are almost fifty, and they’re still putting on shows as dangerous and incredible as they did in their heyday. The entire band had a ton of energy, and they got the audience really involved, and not just by means of having people support (and sometimes shove whisky bottles in the face of) Yow. Duane Denison and David Sims have written some of the dirtiest, catchiest riffs in noise rock history, and their live delivery is fast, energetic and compelling. Also, I’ve seen some pretty good drum performances, but I’m going to have to go out on a limb and say Mac McNeilley gets the gold medal for this one. He just beat the living shit out of that kit, and rhythmically propelled everyone both on stage and in the audience. To top it all off, the band played every song I really wanted them to play. This is the show that made me realize what I wanted to make of the rest of the weekend; this weekend I wanted to rock.

How anyone could even begin to try to follow up that show is beyond me, but Built to Spill seemed like a good closer, because not everyone at Pitchfork is into hard rock, and Built to Spill is a little more fun for the whole family. We stayed closer to the back for this one and we didn’t regret it much; not only were we tired but it also seemed like the band’s delivery didn’t differ much from their albums. Granted, Built to Spill are always a treat to listen to, and even listening to them from far away when we were really tired was nice, though not much more exciting than Tortoise. They did end up playing “Else,” possibly my favorite Built to Spill tune, and I was really happy about that.


On Saturday morning we took the train downtown, got food at Jamba Juice and Potbelly, and got to Union Park in time to catch Plants and Animals, who played a pretty good show. I don’t know them that well and really don’t have much of anything to say about them except that I do remember their drumming was interesting (although not quite as interesting as that of Caribou, who we saw playing on the same stage exactly a year earlier).

I left early to get a good spot for Fucked Up, who played one of the best sets of Saturday. I didn’t have any problem choosing between Fucked Up and The Antlers; the previous day helped me know what I wanted, and I wanted energy. And the energy and coordination which the band exercised during the show was incredible. The entire band seemed excited to be there and played well, but vocalist Damian Abraham took the spotlight. After crushing a half full beer can on his head right before the band started at a sprint with (I believe) “Son the Father,” “Pink Eyes” Abraham quickly de-shirted himself, caught beach balls which he began to bite chunks out of and deflate instantaneously (he wore one of the things as a hat) and jumped down into the press pit to get right next to the audience, where he stayed for most of the show.

These guys really played a loud, fun hardcore punk show, and they dished out a lot of fun antics. Abraham seemed to be a really nice, straightforward guy when he talked to the audience, but when he locked in during a song, he got vicious. I remember him tearing apart a baby doll, and the poor thing’s head whizzed right by my face and landed on the ground. Epic. He also gave the crowd a more than respectable score of 9.9, which as he mentioned was higher than “that Animal Collective album which I thought sounded exactly like Phish.”

After Fucked Up I moved to the Connector Stage to see The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. I have grown to like their debut album a lot. Typical shoegaze, yes, but pretty good shoegaze, and I hoped they could be great in concert. But unfortunately the show was just about the only bad show I saw all weekend. The biggest problem was that everyone just wasn’t loud enough. We could blame this on the festival sound system, which I have heard other complaints about, but The Jesus Lizard had no problem being loud as fuck on the previous day. The guitars, especially, needed to get turned way up. But that wouldn’t really have saved Kip Berman from a glassy-eyed, mediocre vocal performance. It was a lousy show. It happens. I left quite early.

The Balance stage is the smallest stage at the festival, off in the opposite corner of the park as the Aluminum and Connector stages. It is usually the stage that has either the loudest or quietest bands of the festival, and I spent a good half of my time at the festival on Saturday and Sunday at the Balance stage. By the time I got there, Bowerbirds were nearly done with their set and the area was packed, so I couldn’t get close enough to observe anything beyond the fact that they were very quiet and enjoyable enough. But they were followed up by a definite powerhouse, Ponytail, who took full command of the stage. The band’s albums almost beg for a live experience. Instrumentally, Ponytail are only one of the best noise rock bands you’ve ever heard, but when you factor in the vocals, you’ve got a band that doesn’t sound quite like anything else out there. Molly Siegel and Dustin Wong make one of the oddest vocal duos in indie rock, less screaming so much as emoting with animal noises, tongue rolls and martial arts war cries.

Siegel, who donned an awesome lime green Michael Jackson t-shirt on this day (it looked like Jackson was jumping up and down as she did) is the main offender, switching back and forth between distinctive demeanors. The first is when she is screaming at the top of her lungs, and the second is when she is smiling widely, which really brings out the fact that she’s extremely pretty. Then there’s the backward head tilt accompanying an expression which suggests she’s either having some kind of fit or is about to sneeze. The energy and volume at this show was very important and rewarding for fans of Ponytail, because as good as they are on record, they only get better when they play live. When Ponytail lock in, they lock the fuck in, and the show was excellent.

I was excited to see Yeasayer at the Connector stage, just as I was excited to see them six months earlier. I’ve seen Yeasayer a grand total of three times now and each one has been unforgettable. The first-listen home run at Lollapalooza last year left my jaw at my feet, and their show at the Sixth and I Synagogue in Washington D.C. was a show unlike any I’ve ever seen before. Their set at Pitchfork was much like those other two shows and yet somewhat different. Yeasayer still have the chops to put on an engaging and energetic show, but here they played a more relaxed set with a slightly altered lineup (two new members on percussion) and had a couple new songs in store. One of those new songs was a dancey piece that they played just as the weekend’s only, brief rain shower began. Luckily it only lasted long enough to cool everyone off and added to the spiritual effect of the rhythmic piece. The band also played some crowd favorites from their first album All Hour Cymbals, such as “Sunrise” (which accompanied the sun breaking out of the clouds), “2080,” and “Wait for the Summer,” as well as “Tightrope,” which was featured on the Red Hot Organization compilation Dark Was the Night earlier this year.

I went over to the side of the Aluminum Stage with some friends to catch DOOM‘s set, which by the way is a great strategy for seeing acts up close at a festival. That is, just get to the close side of the stage where the audience is thin and you can typically see just as well as if you were front and center, especially for a hip hop act like DOOM who is bound to be towards the front of the stage anyway. So we got pretty close, and actually got to see the masked villain backstage from where we were standing, albeit fifteen minutes later than we should have. When he finally showed up on stage in a guille suit, the large DOOM and his even larger and more involved hype-man got the audience moderately pumped for a show that would befuddle me more than anything.

DOOM’s lyrics and flow are top notch (I still found myself laughing outloud at “Don’t talk about my moms, yo” during “All Caps”) and his backing beats are always sick, but it become obvious after just a few minutes onstage that the tubby menace wasn’t going to do a hell of a lot more than keep his mic close to his face and walk around a little. I enjoyed this enough, because DOOM is a great rapper, but I was hoping for more. And as I would later learn, rumors quickly began to circulate that this was yet another imposter / lip-syncing show. My lack of experience with DOOM’s catalogue and live shows prevents me from being able to lend any credibility to this claim, but if it turned out to be true I would be both disappointed and unsurprised. Regardless of this, DOOM’s show was much like a piano performance at a cocktail shindig, both technically sufficient and unexciting, and did little to add to the context of DOOM as either a recording artist or live performer.

After DOOM, we had a bit of an easygoing half hour or so, taking time to use the restroom (long lines!), get some good food, and listen to Beirut from far away. My remorse for not being up close to Beirut was pretty minimal, not by any means suggesting that they played poorly. Quite the contrary, Beirut sound just as good live as they do on record. But at that point in time, I felt that what these guys were doing on stage was all well and good but just not what I wanted. I wanted loud. It was about then that I made a pretty one-sided decision between the day’s headliners, The National (who I skipped at Lollapalooza last year for Love and Rockets) and The Black Lips (who, also at Lollapalooza last year, put one of the weekend’s best shows). We decided to run over to the Balance Stage so that we could try to get a good spot for the Atlanta hooligans.

To our surprise, Matt & Kim hadn’t yet gotten on stage by the time we got there. They were almost a half hour late, dwarfing DOOM’s delay. We got pretty close to the stage and I’m glad we did, because when the NYC duo got on stage, they put on one of the absolute best shows of the weekend. I can’t imagine a two-piece band doing more damage than these guys. They looked like they wouldn’t have rather been anywhere else in the world then on the stage at that time, they were funny, they were nice, they talked to the audience, and they gave their everything for the entire set. Matt screamed and played the keyboard as energetically as anyone I have ever seen, and Kim smiled a wide smile and just beat the living shit out of her kit. Seriously, she played those drums hard. You see some people really pull back their arms to hit the drums, and so often it’s all show, and you can tell just by looking at them. But Kim was pulling back far because she was killing those things.

There was also a shocking sincerity at the show: Matt did a handstand only to remind us afterward that he’s still wearing a back brace that his mother makes fun of him for, and Kim told us that the Beyonce show they attended was incredible and proceeded to get low onstage. There was so much energy in this show and so many great songs: “Yea Yeah,” “Daylight,” “Lightspeed,” “Cutdown,” “Good Ol’ Fashioned Nightmare”… Watching Matt & Kim as the sun was setting was an absolute pleasure and one of the best concert experiences I’ve ever had. And the main reason for this is because they got it across to me that they were having just as much fun as I was.

Once again, it’s not easy to follow a truly awesome band like that, but The Black Lips don’t give a shit about anyone’s expectations of them. Their show at Pitchfork was much more of a balls-out punk show than when I saw them last at Lollapalooza. That show, as excellent as it was, was more of a traditional festival show, because Lollapalooza is a high brow festival that really keeps their bands in line. But when you put a punk band on a small stage like the Balance Stage, shenanigans become possible, and the Black Lips are known for their antics. Some of those antics included a smashed guitar after the first song, the typical man-on-man making out between guitarists, inviting the crowd onstage against the Pitchfork staff’s wishes, and spraying a fire extinguisher into the press pit. One of my good friends and Black Lips enthusiast claimed that these acts seemed planned out, and they very well may have been, but only by the band themselves; that guy getting screamed at backstage by security was definitely not planned.

And to be fair, the antics at a show like this are as much part of the experience as the music itself, which was loud and rowdy as well. There is definitely something to be said for a show that feels this edgy and dangerous. These guys have found their identity, and unlike Matt & Kim, they might actually benefit from going out there on stage and being grumpy and mean and violent. But they weren’t, and we remember that the Black Lips are as much entertainers as they are punks. “I like my audience a little closer to me than this,” said guitarist Jared Swilley before inviting the crowd on stage. Some of them made it up there, and some of them got leveled by security, but I’ll be damned if all of us didn’t wish we could have at least tried. The band were a very good choice for a headliner and put on a really fun show.


On the morning of Day 3 of the festival, we arrived downtown pretty damn tired, which isn’t unreasonable for Day 3 of any festival. We decided to have lunch at Wishbone, and on the way there we met up with Yeasayer bassist Ira Wolf Tuton. Of course we didn’t have much to say to him except “you played a great show!” and he probably didn’t want to waste his time with us, but he was really nice and shook our hands.

After coffee, eggs, pancakes and potatoes, we were off to Union Park again and got there in time to catch Blitzen Trapper. I thought they played pretty well, but I’m going to be honest, I really don’t remember much of anything about them, and I did remember a lot of other first-listen buzz bands that weekend. Nice folk melodies. That doesn’t really help you much, does it? By this time in the weekend, my appetite for loud music was still in full force and I was just kind of bored with folk music.

Organized Konfusion member Pharoahe Monch was my next show at the Connector Stage, and he was definitely the better of the two hip hop shows this weekend. It helped that his DJ was a lot of fun and very skillful, unlike a lot of the other live DJs I have seen, but Monch really took the show. To me, it’s important for a hip hop artist to hype up the show, but doing it too much is just annoying. The other two hip hop shows I’ve seen this year were very polarized and both less than what I was expecting. Mos Def was far too much hype and DOOM was far too much substance, but Monch struck the balance between these elements with ease, spitting rhymes and moving around as well as getting the audience to raise their hands and sing along when they didn’t already know the words. We also see the rare case of other on-stage singers really contributing a lot to the show. I don’t know who the backup singers were, but they were funny and sang great. This was what a hip hop show should be like: fun. For all I knew, DOOM didn’t care about the show he was playing. But Monch seemed really happy to rock Chicago, and we were happy to have him.

Up next were Sub Pop punks The Thermals. To my surprise, I heard more complaints about The Thermals than any other band at Pitchfork this year. What happened to a little respect? I thought these guys were great, and you know what, I love a little pop-punk and was happy to hear their set. Samesy? Alright, I can see that. It started to get a little bit like that for me, but I’m not really familiar with their output. But for another band I’d never heard before, I definitely got a lot of fun out of their show. I’m guessing they took into consideration that not everybody in the audience had heard them before, so they played a lot of awesome covers which tickled my ’90s alt-rock fancy, specifically songs by Sonic Youth (“100%”), Nirvana (holy shit, “Sappy”!), Green Day (“Basket Case”) and The Breeders (“Saints”). So yes, maybe they weren’t the most exciting band on Sunday, but they were good enough for me to want to look into them further.

The Walkmen may have been the classiest band of the entire weekend. And I’m not sure exactly why I think this. Maybe it is because they are by this time indie rock veterans, or maybe it was how well dressed they were, or it could be their seasoned, classic style, or perhaps their calm demeanor that contrasted with their spirited playing. Whatever the reason, this band just got up there and sounded like a million bucks. First and foremost, frontman Hamilton Leithauser has charisma, and he makes his excellent vocals seem cool and composed, but definitely not effortless. While belting out the harder lyrics on songs like “The Rat,” you can really tell that he’s working hard. The band mostly played songs from their latest album, the tropical You & Me, which as far as I’m concerned is all for the better, because I think it’s their best album yet. For a few songs, they even brought out a horn section, and some songs like “In The New Year” got really strong crowd response. What was great about The Walkmen, among other things, was that they could be emotional, loud and fun as well as professional.

I spent the next two hours or so at the Balance stage, and I showed pretty late in garage-rock band Japandroids‘ set, which was a damn shame because what I saw of them I liked an awful lot. Another two piece band (I seem to take a big liking to two-piece rock bands), the couple minutes I saw of them really rocked hard and provided some really memorable tunes. Seeing the guitarist up above the drummer, practically as one unit, really got me excited. So kudos to them for only needing three minutes to get me going; they have my attention and interest.

After this set my back and legs were pretty tired, so I allocated myself in front of a tree. So I would both have something to lean on and my height wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. I watched the Vivian Girls from afar, for the second time actually. The first time I saw them they opened for M. Ward at the Sixth and I Synagogue and I don’t think I gave them nearly as much credit as they deserved. The Vivian Girl’s music and live shows are covertly excellent. I thought their show in D.C. was fun but for whatever reason, I wasn’t feeling it that night and I made the assumption that the Vivian Girls were another sub-par garage rock band.

But I soon found that their debut album from last year is just incredible, but very humbly so, and their music didn’t really click with me until I sat down and gave it my full attention. So I jumped at the chance to give their live show another chance and I’m glad I did. Granted, the Vivian Girls are a band that doesn’t particularly benefit from the festival setting. They are a fast and loud punk band and the sound translates better in small indoor venues, and their stage presence is pretty simple. They rock hard and they’re fun to watch, but they don’t offer anything particularly exciting. So this show was pretty relaxed and less about what they could provide for me, and more about what I owed them. When I think about it, that’s not what a show should be like, but I try not to think too hard about shows like this. They make it easy for me to sit back and enjoy myself.

After Vivian Girls on the Balance Stage were Danish rockers Mew, which to me seemed like a bit of a weird pick for the festival. Maybe I only say that because because their genres are very far away from one another despite the fact that they work well together. Dream pop isn’t out of P4Ks interests but progressive rock typically is. In any case, Mew were about as polished looking as The Walkmen, and their set was similarly orchestrated. The songs aren’t much different live than on record, but they’re still a treat to see be performed. There was an air of confidence at this show during songs like “Special” and “The Zookeeper’s Boy” that definitely strengthened my love for them, when at points in my history with Mew there would be moments where I would say to myself “Am I supposed to be loving this?”

Yes, they have pretty faces, and yes, they are shamelessly as much of a pop band as they are a rock band, but their live sound really affirmed Duke Ellington’s famous ultimatum: “If it sounds good, it is good.” Mew sound great live, and though they may not be doing backflips on stage, they look like they are enjoying themselves and their communication with one another is interesting. Their new songs are also fascinating. “Introducing Palace Players” is a damaged, experimental rock tune, and if it is any indication of their new album’s quality or ambition, then we have a lot to look forward to. Also worthy of note is that these guys put on one of the loudest shows of the weekend. How they got that bass tone is beyond me. It rocketed out of the speakers without being rumbling or intrusive on the treble, and it permeated the air around the Connector and Aluminum stages, all the way across Union Park.

And that’s where I was after about half of Mew’s set, so I could listen to Grizzly Bear as well as get a decent spot for the Flaming Lips. Unfortunately, I really can’t say much of anything about Grizzly Bear. I like them well enough, but they were an afterthought to me compared to the band’s that flanked them in my schedule. I’m not big enough of a fan to say that much about their show, especially as viewed from far away, except they had several foot tappers and I liked them just fine.

But everyone knew what the highlight of the festival was going to be. It was apparent from the minute they were announced in the lineup and visualized that morning when The Flaming Lips‘ giant orange stage was already towering on the Aluminum Stage. And by the time the Lips got on stage, their setup was, as expected, like nothing any of us had seen before, unless we had already seen a Flaming Lips show. But with that said, what was on the Aluminum stage was almost light years ahead of their setup at the Earth Day Festival on the National Mall. The Flaming Lips had an entire day to set this up and had just about no limits as to what they could or could not do. There is really no way to communicate the band’s unique elements unless I forthrightly list them:

The giant light screen was dazzling and mostly showcased dancing naked women. One of these women went into birthing position and The Flaming Lip’s descended from her incandescent vagina. They were joined on stage by people dressed up in frog and cat suits, and later, a giant gorilla which lead singer Wayne Coyne rode on the back of. And how can we forget the giant bubble which Coyne crowd surfs in? Confetti. Shitloads of confetti blasting from cannons. And balloons. Lots of balloons.

The visual aspect of a Flaming Lips show is enough to make it a spectacle, but like last time I saw them, the real deciding factor was the music itself. The Flaming Lips were the fifth and final band to adhere to the “Write the Night” and ultimately the one that decided it’s overall outcome. The Flaming Lip’s have notoriously played just about the same set with few switchups for years. Getting them on the Write the Night roster would have ideally forced them to dig out some obscurities from their back catalogue, but as probably everyone expected and as Coyne explained, voting list in hand, everyone knows what the most popular Flaming Lips songs are, and they almost always play them anyway.

But the band seemed to get the general gist of how everyone could benefit from this system, and they did pull out some obscure numbers, specifically “Bad Days” off of Transmissions from the Satellite Heart, “Enthusiasm for Life Defeats Internal Existential Fear” (yeah, you heard me) from the Fearless Freaks compilation, and even “Mountain Side” from In a Priest-Driven Ambulance. In addition to these rarities, the band also performed two new songs from their forthcoming double album Embryonic, the tribal “Silver Trembling Hands” and the jam “Convinced of the Hex.” Reception of the new songs seems to be very mixed, but my personal opinion is that they are a good sign for a return to the Lips’ earlier styles. These songs made this show pretty unique for the Flaming Lips, but there were still some familiar sights and sounds.

The band also played their more popular songs and live staples: “Race for the Prize,” “Fight Test,” “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song,” “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 1,” “She Don’t Use Jelly” and “Do You Realize??” all made appearances, and many were delivered in the same way that caused me to complain about the last Flaming Lips show I attended. Three and a half of those aforementioned songs were drawn out singalongs. Which brings me to my biggest problem with the Flaming Lips’ live show. They waste too much time. Wayne Coyne, despite the fact that we would all go nuts over him blowing his nose, talks too much on stage, and the singalongs just get annoying and see the rest of the band sitting around not doing anything, waiting for the next song. When they do go full on instrumental, the band sounds incredible, and I can only imagine how awesome live, full electric versions of songs like “Fight Test” and “She Don’t Use Jelly” would sound. I can only imagine, because I’ll probably never see them. The band’s setlist seemed over before it started with eleven songs total, a teaser for all the setup that it no doubt took.

But when all is said and done, there is still no live act even remotely like The Flaming Lips, for better or worse. They look, sound, and feel completely unique. They aren’t perfect, but they would never pretend they are. They want their audience to be involved and have a fun time, and no one gets their audience involved and having fun quite like The Flaming Lips. Despite my complaints, it’s a show you’re going to want to see at least once, if not as many times as possible.


Overall, Pitchfork Music Festival 2009 was an overwhelming success and really pushed the festival to the upper echelons of Summer music festivals to get excited about. There is more than just a little for everyone, and this year’s festival was particularly awesome. It may not get as many big names as festivals like, say, Lollapalooza, but this works to it’s advantage, and it ends up a more focused, energetic, manageable festival experience. Even though 2009 was only the festival’s forth year, it feels like it has been around much longer. The quality of the festival already rivals or even surpasses other Summer Chicago music festivals, and if Pitchfork can manage to keep it a comparably low-key, controlled explosion of great music, we’re still at the beginning of the event’s golden years.


Mudhoney – The Lucky Ones

October 11, 2008

The Lucky Ones is Mudhoney’s third album in three years, following 2006’s Under A Billion Suns and 2007’s live album Live Mud. The godfathers of grunge have not been this prolific since at least fifteen years ago, although their attitude seems not to have changed much since their heyday. This works both to their advantage and disadvantage, but mostly the former. The band’s previous studio album, Under A Billion Suns, was arguably the most dramatic departure in style of Mudhoney’s entire career to that point; politically charged lyrics, slow grooves, noisy horn sections and a crystal clear production made the album one of Mudhoney’s most distinct. It was promptly dismissed as one of their worst. Fans and critics alike seemed to find the new sound uncharacteristic of Mudhoney’s typical shamelessly testosterone fueled punk, and thus undesirable. Undesirable, despite the fact that the album was the band’s best album since My Brother The Cow. Perhaps what turned people off about Under A Billion Suns was the change. What fans love about Mudhoney albums are Mark Arm’s snarling vocals, Steve Turner’s dirty riffing, Dan Peters’ booming percussion, and the distinctively grungy production values that have always supported all of these, qualities that have not diminished in power in twenty years. What Mudhoney fans really love are the occasional noisy, obnoxious, samesy punk releases that the band put out every couple years. But appreciating Under A Billion Suns is a rewarding task that is parallel to more current band issues, namely The Lucky Ones, the loud punk record that fans definitely wanted instead. And the album is probably the band’s most balls out album in over a decade. One might relate the color scheme of the album cover to that of Fun House by The Stooges, and the comparison would be quite valid. Even from the opening number I’m Now, the ass swinging influence of The Stooges is apparent. And continuing throughout, The Lucky Ones is a loud, beat driven, horny album that goes back to Mudhoney’s roots. In fact, many songs here show Mudhoney louder, faster, and more cutting than ever heard before. The album also has momentum that Under A Billion Suns never quite had, saving some of its hardest hitters for close to last. The Open Mind is particularly rocking, maybe even danceable with its off beat accents. But the album’s finest moment, or perhaps second finest only to the scalding title track, is Tales of Terror, a fierce punk dirty bomb that shows every member at possibly the most rocking in their entire careers, particularly Mark Arm, whose legendary screaming vocals aren’t even a tiny step down from what they were in the 80s. If a lack of change is Mudhoney’s minor weakness, it is also their greatest strength. Mudhoney are still kicking ass and taking names, now more vicious than ever before, and although most Seattle grunge bands have fizzled out, these guys are still screwing your daughter and making a ruckus just like they were two decades ago.


My Bloody Valentine – You Made Me Realise [EP]

February 23, 2007

You Made Me Realise

You know what, fuck it. I do feel a bit silly and obsessive. I realize that most of what I listen to and talk about nowadays is My Bloody Valentine. But I honestly don’t care. They are already one of my absolute favorite bands, and if there was ever an EP that I have not given enough attention, it’s the You Made Me Realise EP, or for those of you who are just sticklers for American linguistics, the You Made Me Realize EP. Released at virtually the same time as Isn’t Anything, this EP was in the same way nothing short of a miracle. And by that I mean, during the recording of both this EP and Isn’t Anything, the band was frisked into the studio and cranked out solid gold in a matter of days. You Made Me Realise is a five song molotov of all the best aspects of MBV, from the jangley pop of their earlier days to the luscious mystery of the Isn’t Anything era and the etherealness of the Loveless era. It’s got everything. Loveless may be the best MBV album, but You Made Me Realise pulls no punches and ends up just as consistant as Loveless. The fact of the matter is, most of the stuff on this EP dwarfs the stuff on Isn’t Anything. Each track is a hand picked treat. You need this EP… It might just be the best EP ever.

The title track kicks of the disk, and rightfully so, because by this point it was the best damn thing the band ever wrote. YMMR is a chainsaw punk explosion more uptempo and full of energy than any of the bands other material. Colm’s drums are in full force and the guitars are rhythmic and exciting. The male/female vocals are as always perfect and the mood is very vital and momentous. When they scream “go go go,” you’d best be hauling ass. The solo kicks in at just the right time, with a spacey little portion leading into what the fans could only call “it” at live shows. “It” is also known as the “holocaust.” What it is is the band basically cranking up their amps as loud as possible and cranking out the same chords for as long as it would take to get the audience to respond positively. But this was a bit difficult, considering it was a deafening sound that probably shouldn’t have been legal at the time. It would, in fact, sometimes last for over a half hour and Mike McGonnigal likened it to sticking your head into a jet engine in 33 1/3. It may seem like a short outing on the record, but live, this was a force to be reconed with. I think the point of it was that when you listened to it live, it would just hurt like hell at first, but after a while your mind would almost make up some awesome melody and play it over in your head after a while, probably due to delirium. This is a choice song and one of MBVs best.

Next up is Slow, and while it is clearly the EPs weakest track, it still ended up being a live staple until the bands lengthy demise. Mike McGonnigal interviews Kevin Shields about this song in 33 1/3, and he mentions, and you can clearly hear this, that the song is almost hip hop influenced. It moves along at a sexual chugalong pace and doesn’t really have a chorus or verse. The lyrics are very openly sexual and talk about licking and sucking and stuff. It’s actually an enjoyable track if you get to know it well enough. It just comes off as very boring, but this is one of the more odd tracks My Bloody Valentine ever did, as far as song construction goes, but the background wall of chords is really well built here. It’s true to it’s title; this is the slowest track on the EP, but it’s not quite boring. It just doesn’t go anywhere, that’s all. After three minutes, the track is awkwardly ended.

The third song, Thorn, is the exact opposite of Slow. It’s a conventional pop jangle that goes at a pretty quick pace, so putting it next to Slow was probably actually a good idea. I don’t know why this wasn’t played more live… It has one of the bands finest verses ever and it features Kevin Shields in his vocal prime. It is a very touching and romantic song that makes very good use of Colm’s fantastic underrated drumming style, specifically the mildly offbeat drumrolls which he utilizes every so often. This is sort of a middle ground between Ecstacy and Wine and Isn’t Anything. It has the Isn’t Anything chord wall but also the irresistable hook. You really have to hear this to believe it, it’s just a great sunny pop treasure.

But then there is Cigarette In Your Bed. Which is a huge contrast, as it is conversely very serious and easily the strangest thing the band wrote by that time. Colm’s Drums sound like a restless funeral march that then burst into hard hitting thrashes during the time where the guitars pick up and play out some really strong biting chords. The mood is melancholy and dreamy, the vocals bizaare and possibly referring to some odd fetish of sorts. It may be strange, but it ends perfectly, with the tempo really picking up and revealing a vocal hook that makes the listener kind of go “oh, now I get it.” Hynotic, insatiable, and washed in great sound, this is a wonderful MBV gem.

Thankfully it is followed up sucessfully, by a track that actually matches if not trumps the opener, Drive It All Over Me. This song, like Cigarette, features Belinda alone on vocals, and damn can she sing. This is easily my favorite MBV hook of all time, and the song is the most conventional yet irresistable. The lyrics are truly ingenious, and they speak of apathy, loneliness, and a cheery indifference; “Travel always gets me/Get in the car and drive it all over me.” The melodic vocals are totally put in the forefront, but the guitars are simple and nice while the bassline is one of Deb’s best. She is actually a very underrated bassist at all. Shit, everyone in MBV is underrated at their trades. Kevin Shields is a guitarist/musician that should be legendary, and the Googe/O’Ciosoig combo is just fantastic. Belinda is of course the icing on the cake, a decent guitarist, pretty face, and wonderful vocalist. This is essentially MBV going “fuck it, let’s just make some really great pop.” Simply wonderful.

I know I’m repetetive. I know this is short. But I always look for an excuse to whore off this band and talk about them, so I guess I’ll be content with doing this here.


My Bloody Valentine – Things Left Behind

December 2, 2006

To be honest this collection is well due, even if it is just a bootleg, considering it’s already hard as hell to get My Bloody Valentines earlier EPs. It might as well be hard as hell just to get one disk, and by hard as hell, I mean expensive to import. It was done in Japan I believe, which makes no sense to me, but the catch of this release is that it’s a bulk of the earlier tracks the band made all in one place, all remastered. Of course it is pretty easy to argue that MBVs material got pretty reliably better as they went along, it is still essential for fans to get a look at the bands earlier stuff, if not just for the desire for history but because some of it is actually good.

To be exact, the tracks that are on here are the Geek, the The New Record By My Bloody Valentine, Sunny Sundae Smile, and Strawberry Wine EPs, all remastered. The more I think about it, the more I really believe that MBV got better as they went along. I think you could almost maybe go out on a limb and say that they peaked with Tremolo, the final EP, but obviously Loveless is the most precious release, and that came second to last. Conversely, the bands first EP, This Is Your Bloody Valentine, is sort of a punch to the kidney. The sound basically reflects a high school band that can actually write their own material, but doesn’t know how to make their own style, so they rip on The Cramps. Fuck, if you have a song named “Don’t Cramp My Style” and you sound like this, it’s pretty obvious. And yet theres really no reason to listen to listen to that EP for the music or anything, because if you wanted to listen to a Cramps lookalike, why don’t you just fucking listen to The Cramps and call it a day? It’s history, I’ll give it that, and considering that the disk still had a great deal of time in which to fill stuff, it wouldn’t have been criminal to include the seven track TIYBV, but it still sounds like something the cat gacked up most of the time, and speeding up any of original vocalist Dave Conways horrid vocals would surely result in the sound that an adolescent Alvin the chipmunk would make if he got a softball driven into his nads at 80 mph.

There is a growth between TIYBV and Geek, but it’s not too big. Instead of being treated to seven songs worth of shite, you get four songs worth of something bearable. It’s still heavily influenced by The Cramps, but instead it’s something that fans of the aformentioned band might want to check out. Which is only saying so much, because I’m not really a huge fan of The Cramps, but they have their own respectable and distinct sound. It’s just easily immitated. No Place To Go is sort of a rockabily thing, and it’s actually kind of cool. Kind of. Not that anything on this EP is really anything to scream about. Except maybe Sandman Never Sleeps. I’m inclined to scream about that, mostly at Dave Conway. But it is a funny tune, just because it’s so bad. It’s comforting to know that the band went so far from here, really. And to be honest, if you’re into The Cramps or very early JAMC, the first two tracks might be enjoyable. Not that memorable though.

And then there is The New Record By My Bloody Valentine, which actually isn’t bad at all. To be honest, until I got this a few days ago, I had never heard anything before Sunny Sundae smile besides some live takes and sound clips of the really early stuff, so this was new studio material to me. I’ll say right off the bat that this is the first good EP the band ever made. It’s just so confused though, so cutely confused. The band has now dropped their obsession with you know what band and have moved on to straightforward pop. And the bands inconsistencies have been outlined already by the fact that they still have not produced a full scale album, and they wouldn’t for two years or so, in which time they would crank out numerous EPs. Perhaps this was a lack of funds or simply lack of a grounded direction, or possibly even a lack of any obligations, but it really doesn’t matter. It’s a decent EP with some decent songs on it. The band is still far from bliss, but all four songs are enjoyable if you listen to them lightheartedly. Lovelee Sweet Darlene and On Another Rainy Saturday are my personal favorites. But it’s still apparent that the songs don’t really have the pop sensibility that would soon be gained.

And then there is Sunny Sundae Smile, which is in a way the soft transition into the band doing great things. For one thing, Dave Conway is still in the mix. Which really at this point isn’t so bad. This is pretty much the only release where his voice can actually do good, maybe even great things once or twice, but it’s apparent that he really didn’t have any career going for him or anything. The songs on this EP are all great and priceless, really the first great EP the band had. Each song is drawn out in a very structured pop context, with the then famous JAMC noise film in the background blanketing it all. The music stays true to the title and is reminiscent of teenage days of fun. The title track is probably the best one on the album and is very memorable, but once again, all of the tracks are great. Essentially what has happened here is that the rest of the band has moved on to the jangle pop and sweet pop tunes that would be presented in the Ecstacy And Wine era, just with Conway on vocals. Thankfully, his vocals don’t get in the way or anything here. This is an essential EP to have, because it’s easily the best pre-Belinda Butcher release there is. I already had this EP before I got this collection, and I can vouch for the fact that it sounds better than the original masters. Not by much though, almost unnoticable in fact, but those with a trained ear can surely hear a side by side difference. These songs sound glossier and much better, and although it might not be essential for casual collectors to get these remastered EPs just for the sound quality, hardcore collectors will enjoy this change. But once again, it’s not that big of an improvement. It’s just surprising that it’s an improvement at all.

The addition of the Strawberry Wine EP is a bit of a strange gift. Granted, it’s remastered, once again with a very small margin of improvement, but it was a mystery in the first place why this is here anyway. The Ecstacy And Wine release can be found not only on CD but also on vinyl for pretty cheap, and that contains the Strawberry Wine and Ecstacy EPs. So this is not a very difficult to acquire release at all, while The New Record By and Sunny Sundae Smile are hell to track down. Of course getting the original release of Strawberry would be tough, but the songs are not hard to acquire at all. The songs are great though and mark the first release after the reconfigured lineup. By this point in the bands history, all of the band members that would last until the bitter drawn-out end are here: guitarist/vocalist Kevin Shields and drummer Colm O’Ciosoig are still around, and now we have the added bassist Deb Googe and guitarist/vocalist Belinda Butcher. I’m not exactly sure if Deb Googe was included earlier on than this, but regardless of those circumstances, the gangs all here. And this was a pretty interesting shift, allowing not only a female vocalist into the fray but one that is also a guitarist paving the way four layered guitars in the future. This opened many doors for the band, as exemplified with the EPs title track Strawberry Wine, arguably one of the bands best songs ever. The song is a luscious layered rural pop harvest piece, also very reminiscent of the far east in many ways. You can hear Colm in the background with a stomping beat and also the signature unmistakeable drum rolls. And we now have Kevin Shields in the vocal upfront, and Belinda harmonizing all the way through. The results are fantastic. And the two other tracks on the EP are just as good. Never Say Goodbye is a heartwarming piece very simmilar to Strawberry Wine in Feeling, and Can I Touch You is classic pop. Great EP, and the remaster is appreciated, but just a very strange thing to include.

All in all, this is a release that pretty much gives you what you expect. It’s not an official release or anything and pretty much a bootleg, so it’s not from the main mans direction, but it’s still a release nonetheless. And considering that it’s not that hard to acquire, you might be better off than hunting down all the other goodies seperately. They are remastered so that is nice, but once again, the inclusion of the Strawberry Wine EP is confusing and probably unnecessary. Even with that in the mix, the disk still ends under fourty minutes. It just seems to me like they could have crammed in TIYBV and all of it’s shitty glory just because fans who want the early EPs don’t care about quality of music when they are looking for history. And it is interesting to hear Kevins guitarwork in such an early stage anyway. If there was that much space left, and I’m sure Kevin wouldn’t even want to get anywhere close to a lawsuit that would associate him with that shit, TIYBV should have been in here, not that I would really want to listen to it too much. Truth be told, this bootleg has almost all great songs, and it fulfills it’s promises. It leaves the MBV catalogue in a little less obscurity, a much appreciated effect.


The Jesus And Mary Chain – Honey's Dead

June 20, 2006

While Psychocandy saw The Jesus and Mary Chain gaining the most popularity, Honey’s Dead is clearly a superior album. A little over halfway into the bands career, the Reid duo still hasn’t grown out of the film of feedback and guitar fuzz that covered Psychocandy, but they do refine this style, and in the process find ways to make an actual full fledged transforming album as opposed to glorious albums of treats like Psychocandy and Darklands (as good as they were). What is really interesting about this album is the undeniable feeling that the tracks eminate, and that is a feeling of sunny apathy that ended up being a staple of the 90s. So it’s no suprise that Honey’s Dead came out in the middle of this rush of grunge and britpop. It just sounds like it did, but even if this is an album that very much follows in the footsteps of other albums that were more popular and influential, it still has a level of sophistication that few other albums at the time could achieve. The laser precision rhythm mixed with still outwardly brilliant pop hooks make this The Chains best album, and one of the better albums from it’s time.

One undeniable quality of this album is the beat and how precise it is. Sometimes the effect is almost hypnotic, because the tamborines and quick drumbeats subdivide the song so much that the listener doesn’t have to do any subconcious work to keep up. This is exactly the case with the opening track, Reverence, which plugs along with a shockingly exact beat, and also finds a great way to incorporate the bands signature guitar feedback to make a sound that isn’t sure if it wants to be lazy or not. In any case, the sneering Reid’s lyrics “I wanna die just like Jesus Christ/I wanna die on a bed of spikes” is unbelievably likeable even considering the subject matter. Which is great even after the song spins into a trance like dance solo later on. This is also the case with a later track called Sugar Ray. From the very start, the guitar effects follow the beat really well, and the song opens up into a flat out club beat that is hard to not dance or at least tap your toes or nod your head to.

There are a few tracks that especially open up the rest of the album in their climbing easygoing nature, such as Catchfire and Teenage Lust, but beyond that, there are still tons of tracks that exemplify the bands earliest strength for flat out hooks, but here, they are louder, faster, and more clear, if not a little bit more confident in some areas too. These such songs are Tumbledown, I Can’t Get Enough, and the distinguishably brilliantly Far Gone And Out, which perfectly demonstrates how lyrics can really make or break a song. Needless to say, they completely make this song, and the two parts of instrumental energy and vocal prowess are fantastic.

There are some slower songs like Good For My Soul, which almost shadows both Darklands and Stoned And Dethroned at the same time. And the true conclusive song is Sundown, which would totally wrap up the album if it came last, but The Chain knowns better than to be that truly predictable. But the real, complete winner on this album is the one of a kind track that is placed near the beginning, and no other song on the album really comes close to what it does, or even attempts as much as it does. That song is Almost Gold, a flat out love song, dotted with bell like effects, guitar noise imitating violins (I suppose they could actually be violins though, but it doesn’t seem like it), a yet again killer beat, and a touching guitar strum that pulls everything together. This is the true gem on this album, and it really makes you wonder why the title of the album would have the word “dead” in it.

Yes, albums like Psychocandy and Darklands might be more rewarding after a longer period of time, but this is hands down the most tightly constructed and accessible album the chain has made, and there is no denying the power that each individual song has as opposed to the breakneck pace of the bands previous albums to just throw out tunes that the listener should take in as a whole. No matter how the band operated, they always produced gold, and this is the most smooth and tasty work the band ever did.