New Releases: Casual Victim Pile 2 and Bass Drum of Death

Regional compilations are tricky things. Ostensibly intended to document a specific scene, they often fall victim to the seemingly contradictory flaws of insufficiency and inclusion. Any scene worth its salt has at least a handful of groups worthy of exposure to the outside world. The trouble is there aren't usually enough of them to fill an album. (Two of the best regional comps, No New York and Laughing at the Ground both feature only four bands.) So, for the sake of occupying space and the misguided notion that more acts, regardless of their quality, equals more legitimacy, the listener is treated to aural cronyism: "Those dudes aren't very good but they're nice guys so let's put 'em on the record. Hey, does your cousin with the four-track have to a song to give?" Even some of the more celebrated regional compilations fall victim to this. There's 11 bands on Flex Your Head. How many of them can you name?

This makes the accomplishment that is Casual Victim Pile 2 all the more amazing. The record is a sequel to last year's Casual Victim Pile, which in itself was a revelation. This collection of 19 bands from Austin, TX (with a few from nearby Denton) was one of the best records of 2010, with a handful of its bands also individually releasing some of the year's best albums. While many regional comps scrape the bottom of barrel to fill out space (never mind creating a worthy listening experience), CVP was practically overflowing with awesome cuts, more than enough to make any scene proud. Almost inconceivably, CVP2 features another 18 Austin bands, all of whom offer their own distinct flavor of rock music. Some names are familiar to me (Cruddy, Rayon Beach, Sally Crewe and the Sudden Moves). Those who aren't give me enough of a taste to make me crave more (pretty much everyone but especially The Dead Space and Serious Tracers). Unlike the original compilation, CVP2 is not being released on Matador but rather Matador founder/owner Gerard Cosloy's more D.I.Y. 12XU imprint. Don't let the decreased exposure or worry of diminishing returns disuade you. Casual Victim Pile 2 is every bit the record its predecessor was. And the whole shebang is streaming for free on bandcamp.

It's been over a year since we lost our friend Jay Reatard. It goes without saying that we can never replace the man, but those mourning the loss of his music would do well to check out GB City, the debut album from Oxford, MS's Bass Drum of Death. Formerly John Barrett's Bass Drum of Death, this group is essentially a one man recording unit, much like Mr. Reatard's early recordings. Also like Mr. Retard, Mr. Barrett has a knack for snotty, hook-laden punk rock with a surprising amount of complexity and depth. An extremely promising debut.

New Release: Reading Rainbow

One of the more striking performances I've seen in the past year was from Philadelphia duo Reading Rainbow when they opened for HoZac labelmates Super Wild Horses. Their stage setup was noteworthy because Robbie Garcia (guitar, vocals) and Sarah Everton (drums, vocals) faced each other instead of the crowd. I know nothing (nor do I care to speculate) about Mr. Garcia and Ms. Everton's relationship offstage, but this simple act radiated a subtle but undeniable joy and intimacy. Informed by the K/C-86 vibe that's become fashionable of late, their sound was remarkably full given the minimal instrumentation. The two person harmonies felt absolutely lush. I stuck around for Super Wild Horses. They were fine but couldn't help but pale in comparison to their openers.

Today sees the release of Reading Rainbow's second album and HoZac debut, Prism Eyes. Does it capture the uncommon buzz of the band's performance? Well, perhaps only partially. What played as a bold declaration of identity in a live setting comes of as just a bit samey-sounding on record. However, it's an inviting sound in which listeners can easily luxuriate and there's enough variety here to prevent Prism Eyes from becoming monolithic. Plus, Reading Rainbow's stronger melodies easily distinguish themselves. Songs like "Wasting Time," "Always On My Mind" and the title track are some of the most infectious of the year, outclassing most of band's peers among the new naive.

Prism Eyes may not quite replicate seeing Reading Rainbow live, but a fraction of a transcendent experience is a lot more than most bands offer. You should probably check this one out.

New Releases: Tyvek, Parting Gifts, Hank IV

I know a lot of you were probably disappointed by the results of last week's election. However, there are reasons to be cheerful, such as the release of the three albums below. I have confidence that the purchase of all three by all of my readers will be enough to kickstart the economy and leave us in good shape for 2012.

Anticipation for Tyvek's debut album was almost impossibly high. Based on a handful of fantastic singles and a well deserved reputation as an incendiary live act, the band were anointed the great hope of the lo-fi/DIY/garage/punk/whatever-the-fuck-you-want-to-call-it underground.

When their self-titled full-length was finally released in May of last year, disappointment was probably inevitable. Though a fine and adventurous record, some felt the album diluted the white hot intensity of their single with frequent Swell Maps-style song fragments and odd excursions. The consensus seemed to be "it could have been better." It probably didn't help matters that the original lineup was breaking up while the album was being assembled.

Tyvek's second album, Nothing Fits, comes out today on In the Red with all traces of excess excised. In other words, this is the Tyvek album you've been waiting for.

Though chaos is an essential part of Tyvek's approach, here they focus all the clamor and weirdness that sprawled all over their prior LP into their songs. The result is an unrelenting attack. Songs pummel you one after the other, never allowing you to catch your breath. This is not to say Tyvek are a brutal or punishing listen. Far from it, actually. Though they're not especially interested in melody, the band has a unique sense of tunefulness. They know just where to place a sudden stop, timing shift or blast of noise for maximum impact.

We could have a lengthy discussion whether or not punk rock actually exists in 2010. That's a topic for another time. But if you wanted to argue the "pro," Tyvek would be exhibit A. Nothing Fits is a strong contender for album of the year.

Also out today on In The Red is Strychnine Dandelion, the debut album from the Parting Gifts, a new project from Greg Cartwright of Reigning Sound and Coco Hames of the Ettes. Though the album definitely has the loose informal feel of a side project, it's still a blast to listen to. New tunes from a songwriter of Cartwright's magnitude are always welcome and he turns in a couple of gems here. Cartwright has also proven himself the master of unearthing obscure but brilliant Jagger/Richards compositions. The Reigning Sound's cover of "I'd Much Rather Be With The Boys" was one of the highlights of Time Bomb High School. Here the Parting Gifts dust off "(Walking Through the) Sleepy City," which is expertly intoned by Ms. Hames. Just try and listen to this version without smiling. Actually, one could say that about this entire album.

The third Hank IV album, creatively titled III, is also out today on Siltbreeze. Unlike the two records above, I haven't actually heard this one yet as Siltbreeze is not in the habit of playing the promotional copy game. Still, since the Hank IV's prior two platters made my best-of lists for their respective years and since they were possibly the best live band I've seen in the past half decade or so, I'm going to go ahead and recommend this one sight sight unseen (or, more accurately, sound unheard). If it stinks, that's on them, not me.

Update: Just prior to publication of this piece, the Hank IV released a video for the lead off track from III, so I've now heard at least a percentage of the album. It's awesome. Check it out here.

Rocktober Record Roundup

(Have fun at your monster parties this weekend.)

As I mentioned in the post for my latest podcast, the past few weeks have had a slew of noteworthy releases. The sheer quantity has meant that it's been difficult to listen to any single one enough to write a thorough review.

So how about some non-thorough reviews?

The following are a bunch of recordings released this month you might want to check out, each summarized in a single sentence. I've pulled this stunt once before, which I'm mentioning as either a way of admitting I'm repeating myself or trying to get credit, 140 character limit or not, for beating Chris Weingarten and Discographies to the punch.

I'm going to try and give each of these some more listens in near future, despite even more good stuff coming in November. (Oh, Parting Gifts and Reading Rainbow, why you gotta be so good?) When I'm going to have time to listen to each is another issue though it's probable that any of the below are a better soundtrack to the World Series than Buck and McCarver.

Idle Times s/t (HoZac)

Just when you were sick of all the lo-fi poseurs, pretenders and bandwagon jumpers, this slab comes along to remind you that feeling the heat of the flame is a lot better than licking the soot.

Belle and Sebastian Write About Love (Matador)

Missing much of the playful bounce of 2006's The Life Pursuit, B&S revert to "sad bastard" mode, which should endlessly please their core fanbase.

Fresh and Onlys Play It Strange (In The Red)

Beats Best Coast for California album of the year, sounding something like a lost collaboration between Arthur Lee and the Gun Club.

Pop. 1280 The Grid (Sacred Bones)

A nice slice of synth-laced Birthday Pary/AmRep-style gnarl that may be a sign of great things to come.

The Corin Tucker Band 1,000 Years (Kill Rock Stars)

Maria Tessa Sciarrano of Her Jazz and WPRB said of this semi-solo debut from the Sleater-Kinney singer/guitarist "I believe this is what a mommyblog would sound like, if it were in musical form," which is too on the nose to comment further.

Cheap Time Fantastic Explanations (and Similar Situations) (In the Red)

Many people whose opinions I respect greatly praised Cheap Time's debut to the heavens though I deemed it merely "good" and I suspect the same will hold true here.

The Extra Lens Undercard (Merge)

I haven't actually listened to this yet but its inclusion here allows me to score cred points by mentioning Shrimper Records and linking to this.

New Release: The Thermals

I've written previously on the tendency to overvalue records that seem to be bold statements on the zeitgeist at the time of their release. The 2006 album by the Thermals, The Body, The Blood, The Machine, was certainly an example of this. Songs like "Here's Your Future" and "Power Doesn't Run On Nothing" perfectly surmised the frustration and anger of living in George W. Bush's America.

Luckily, it was also the band's strongest musical statement to date. And while the album was justly praised, one couldn't help but feel that this had as much, if not more, to do with its politics as its music.

Rock critics tend to be left-leaning, amateur sociologist types. This has been the case since rockwrite began proper in the 1960s. Most of its proponents were baby boomers suffering from Dylanitis and "committed" to the revolution (man). Far too often, they've been too quick to praise artists who merely reaffirmed their beliefs. Remember when socially conscious, afrocentric minded and rhythmically flaccid hip hop group Arrested Development topped the Pazz & Jop Poll?

The point is that political partisanship is fairly useless in evaluating music and ultimately does listeners a disservice. One need not share Johnny Ramone's worldview to be thrilled by his guitar playing.

In any event, the Thermals' less explicitly political followup, Now We Can See, garnered far less attention. The lack of easy rock crit copy may have been the cause of this but it probably didn't help that it was a noticeably weaker record than its predecessor. The true test comes now with the release of Personal Life. As one might presume from the title, the album stays away from social commentary altogether, focusing instead on introspective themes. Regardless of lyrical content, it's arguably a stronger and more consistent album than The Body, The Blood, The Machine. If Personal Life is not deemed to be of equal value, it may force one to wonder if the Tea Partiers are right about the liberal media.*

While the Thermals don't reinvent the wheel (nor do they attempt it), I wonder if listeners truly appreciate how difficult it is to create their brand of melodic punk without descending into cliché. Pop punk and emo have been commonplace in literal and figurative malls for so long that most of the true punk believers have retreated into noise, where the pop marketplace fears to tread. The Thermals' punk is (relatively) clean and catchy but with nary a whiff of commercialism. It's also heartfelt and earnest without ever approaching emo histrionics. The Thermals reclaim the stolen weapons from the enemy, showing them to be far more effective when used by those who understand their power.

Personal Life is streaming in its entirety at the NPR website. (More of that darn liberal media!) You should give it a listen. You should also check out this video the band made for "I Don't Believe You" which stars Sleater-Kinney's Carrie Brownstein. I believe it's a tribute to the final scene in Francis Ford Coppola's The Conversation. If you haven't seen that fine film, I apologize for the semi-spoiler.

*For the record, they're not right about anything.

New Release: Grass Widow

In 2009, the three women who comprise Grass Widow released the year's best debut full-length. As it came out on the tiny Make-A-Mess imprint, it flew under the radar of most of the "indie" covering sector.

Yesterday saw the release of the group's second album Past Time on the larger Kill Rock Stars label. This, along with some other factors (like being invited to open for Sonic Youth at Prospect Park), should raise Grass Widow's profile considerably. It's probable that those who missed out on the band's debut will be quick to heap praise on their sophomore long player, knowing full well they need to catch up on a good thing. However, the consensus thus far of those who heard and liked Grass Widow's self-titled debut seems to be that Past Time is a weaker record.

And I say that's bull. Past Time is both less "punky" and poppy" than the band's first album. As such, it's a bit harder to find an easy point of entry. Yet after a few spins, it becomes obvious that Grass Widow's songwriting hasn't slipped. They're just less interested in conventional verse-chorus-verse structure this time out than they were previously. Rather than provide direct hooks to hang your hat on, Grass Widow invite you to luxuriate in their singular sound. Their voices (the band's harmonies are top notch) and instruments weave in and out of each other. Each element is distinct and sometimes oblique yet they seamlessly form a whole. That may read as being challenging and it can be but Grass Widow is also stealthily inviting. They prove that rock music doesn't need to loud or noisy to be uncompromising. Nor does it need to be traditionally catchy to burrow its way right into your brain's pleasure center.

In 2010, it's increasingly difficult and rare for a band with a simple guitar/bass/drums/vocals lineup to forge a unique sonic identity. Grass Widow have done just that. Even more impressive is that they've managed to do so relying solely on their playing and songwriting, with no noticeable production tricks to lean on. (It should be noted, however, that production is much improved from the debut.)

A few days ago I posted a video from Past Time along with a bunch from other artists. They've since released another. At the risk of redundancy and borderline sycophantic hyperbole, I'm posting this one as well. If it's my duty to inform you of music that should be part of your life, then shoving Grass Widow down your throats (to paraphrase Fox News talking heads on healthcare) outweighs all other concerns.

New Release: Bottomless Pit

With each release of a new record, there was a bit of a running joke among the small but highly devoted following of Silkworm: "It's their best album since the last one." While fans certainly had their favorite releases from the band, it was their way of acknowledging that being Silkworm fan meant buying into them totally. The band was remarkably consistant (not the same as static or repetitive) and loving one of their records more or less meant you had to love them all, as the band's essential qualities were present in everything they released. To do otherwise meant you were either extremely nitpick-y or didn't really like them all that much in the first place.

Songwriters Tim Midgett (bass/vocals) and Andy Cohen (guitar/vocals) retired the Silkworm name following the tragic death of drummer Michael Dahlquist at the hands of a reckless motorist in 2005. They subsequently formed Bottomless Pit with the rhythm section of Chris Manfrin and Brian Orchard. Midgett switched over to guitar, a move that made sense as he was playing more and more guitar on Silkworm's later albums. Mournful and cathartic, the band's initial releases were quite good but seemed a bit tentative in some ways, as though Midgett and Cohen were unsure on how to continue without their longtime collaborator (or, perhaps, even if they should.) Replicating the chemistry of a 15 year musical partnership couldn't have been the most unchallenging of tasks.

Bottomless Pit's latest album, Blood Under the Bridge, comes out today on the Comedy Minus One label. It's the band's most assured release to date, a record that finds Midgett and Cohen equaling the glory of their former group with apparent ease.

I've written extensively on Silkworm before (click here, if you care to read) and there are a few key differences in Bottomless Pit's sound, mainly the duel guitars. And Orchard wisely doesn't try to replicate Midgett's signature fat bass. But mostly everything that made Silkworm is present here. Midgett and Cohen are both in fine form as songwriters, offering some of the best tunes of their career.

Alternating between stately elegance and hard crunch (and equally adept at both), their songs evoke a kind of serene melancholy. Lyrics like "There's no such thing as too much time" ("Rhineland"), "A slip of the knife and, oh, we're in love" ("Summerwind") and "So many fuckers in this world" ("Late") suggest that some sadness is inevitable in the human experience and making peace with that is difficult but necessary. Instead of sliding into despair, the music offers hard fought redemption.

The group meshes beautifully. Midgett and Cohen finally seem comfortable in their new roles. Midgett's guitar provides foundation and Cohen's adds color. Cohen is justifiably known for his lengthy solos, which often flirted with excess and indulgence but worked perfectly. Here, he's mostly kept himself in check though he does get to stretch out a bit in the jaunty "Late" and the stomping closer, "38 Souls."

It's tempting to say that Blood Under the Bridge is Midgett and Cohen's best record since whatever Silkworm album happens to be your favorite. If you don't know Silkworm, it's equally tempting to throw out the names of a few of their records as essential entry points. However, Blood Under the Bridge is so excellent a piece of work, it would be fallacious to deny it's as good an introduction to Midgett and Cohen's work as any. Though there's been a fair amount of 90s indie rock nostalgia around of late, this record is far more vital than say, the Pavement reunion. I recommend its inclusion in your household as soon as possible.

Dr. Estranged Love or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Best Coast

Los Angeles's Best Coast are the latest beneficiary/victim of the buzz/backlash cycle that's become standard procedure in the web's music covering sector. As such, they are generally met with either ejaculatory praise or total disdain and dismissal. Both views are inherently suspect and depressingly predictable. Whether one is swept up by the hype or acrimonious toward it, the reaction is to the coverage rather than the music, and therefore of little value. (A little tip for the contrarians: listening to music with hostile ears doesn't do yourself or the act in question any favors.)

Best Coast's debut album Crazy For You was released yesterday on the Mexican Summer label. Rather than drown ourselves in positive or negative hyperbole, let's try and take a balanced approach, shall we?

It's easy to hear why people are excited about this band. Singer/songwriter Bethany Cosentino's melodies are infectious and instantly memorable. They evoke the affable West (if not best) Coast tunefulness of everyone from Phil Spector to the Bangles. The band's sunny hooks are tempered with a C-86/K Records-style naiveté, both in lyrics and production. Songs like "Goodbye," "When The Sun Don't Shine" and "Each & Everyday" work as both expertly crafted pop and bedroom-recorded intimacy. It's an effective, borderline irresistible mix.

On the other hand, there's also sound reasons for why one might be less than impressed with Best Coast. While individual songs are undeniably affecting, taken together they begin to feel more affected. I'm not necessarily doubting Ms. Cosentino's sincerity but "girl pines for boy" is Best Coast's only subject matter, and their take on it isn't particularly nuanced or revelatory. After a while, the songs on Crazy For You play less like genuine longing and more like what one is supposed to sing about for pop songs such as these. Between this and general lack of sonic variety, the album summons redundancy at a scant 31 minutes.

Ultimately, Crazy For You is a record that offeres easy pleasures. It's just that those pleasures aren't particularly deep. However, Best Coast make pop music, in the classicist sense. And whoever said that pop music has to strive for depth or significance? Probably the same type of clod who'd tell you that U2 is better than ABBA.

Recommended.

Obligatory Update: Mid-Year Roundup

So it's been quite a while since I've written anything for this blog. All I can offer is apologies and excuses. It's been a particularly busy period in my professional life and once the work day is over I'm pretty much unwilling and/or unable to further sit at a computer screen for any prolonged period of time. I don't know how more prolific bloggers do it. Then again, I don't know how they find the time to listen to deluge of crappy bands they listen to either. And it's particularly beyond me how they can enjoy them.

Anyway, since we're just about at the midway point of the year, I figured I might as well do a little round up of some of 2010's more worthy releases so far. Folks I know are always asking me what I've been listening to. I usually stammer, because that's what I do when put on the spot. (It's also just a little vexing, considering that I usually update this space fairly regularly and my podcast almost always highlights new releases.)

So you can consider the following a handy consumer's guide and pre-emptive chance to listen to some of this year's best records before they start appearing on end-of-year best-of lists. Well, my best-of list, at least. If you want to know what the music crit cognoscenti are listening to, I'd direct you to the Onion AV Club's own roundup, conveniently coupled with a discussion of already forgotten genetic engineering thriller Splice. While I generally value the AV Club's opinions on film, television and comics, their music coverage seems to fall in line precisely with the zeitgeist, and I personally find that pretty dull. That being said, anything that encourages one to listen to the Dum Dum Girls "Jail La La" (the head and shoulders highlight of their Sub Pop debut) is at least somewhat redeeming and I'll admit the new LCD Soundsystem album ain't half bad, even if it doesn't contain a moment as transcendent as "Someone Great."

It would seem that 2010 has been a fairly lean year thus far. Still, those who complain "there just isn't any good music anymore" or "all these new bands suck" or "there hasn't been a good record since I lost my virginity" are, as usual, not looking hard enough. There's always good stuff to be found if you care to find it. In particular, there was been three albums released this year that I feel are necessary addition to any record collection. Two I've reviewed in this space previously so I won't go into too much further detail on those.

Ted Leo and the Pharmacists latest album, The Brutalist Bricks is almost certainly their best record yet. On Leo's previous album, he seemed to be in danger of repeating (Bomb.Repeat.) himself. While one might level the same charge at his latest effort, it doesn't play that way. Rather, it feels as though he's consolidated all his strengths and has delivered the album he always had the potential to make. Read my full review here.

Tre Orsi's Devices + Emblems will likely take the award for 2010's best debut. Hell, I feel pretty confident calling it now. While the band certainly evokes a particular mid-1990s sound, they're no mere exercise in nostalgia. (Not that the indie kids of today have any frame of reference for music pre-1997 anyway.) Rather, it's a reminder that songcraft and emotional weight can be achieved without sacrificing sonic heft. Read my full review here.

The final album of this trio belongs to the Nothing People, who gave us their third album Soft Crash earlier this year. Unlike those above, I didn't give it a day-of review, mainly because their label, S-S Records, isn't the type of operation to do things like hire publicists, send pre-release MP3s for review or set release dates. I'm not complaining though. Given the quality of S-S releases the past couple of years, I'm perfectly content to have them continue doing things the way they do them.

Back to the Nothing People. Their debut, Anonymous, made my best-of list for 2008. Their second album, Late Night, was in some ways even better and surely would have made my best-of list for 09 had I bothered to make a proper one. Soft Crash, their third album in as many years, is better still. Such prolificness is impressive in and of itself but the substantial growth they've shown with each release in such a short period is simply astounding.

As with most truly exceptional bands, describing their music is a tricky proposition. I've casually called them psychedelic but I've decided this label is inappropriate. It's really only apt if you consider Pere Ubu's "30 Seconds Over Tokyo" to be the quintessential psych song. (I do, but I'm probably alone in that.) Others have compared the Nothing People to Chrome, which works to a degree. If nothing else, Chrome's self-attributed genre of "acid punk" fits the band quite well. The Nothing People take the first person agression of the id on journey through the dark recesses of the subconscious. Their excursions may float toward the ether but are tempered with an earthy bite and snarl. There are a few precedents. Ubu and Chrome, sure, but who else? This Kind of Punishment? Bad Moon Rising-era Sonic Youth? Jim Sheppard's more rocking moments? Hopefully, you get the picture (and the album.)

Beyond those three mighty and essential rekids, theres been plenty of other good stuff worth a listen. The Woven Bones' debut full-length is neat little slice of drone-fuzz and features a video you can feel good about embedding. Despite a middling review from the arbiter of taste for clueless white kids, Wounded Lion's self-titled debut seems to get better with each listen. Ditto for the New Pornographers' Together, which is probably their best album since Electric Version. Eddy Current Suppression Ring's new platter may not quite reach the heights of their previous disc but is still better than most of the records you heard this year. The Nervous Systems' Need Medicines is a delightful bit of distorto-pop that's good enough to make you forgive all the questionable "lo-fi" that's been foisted upon the public the past few years. Ty Segall takes a hard turn into 60s freakbeat on Metled and gives further credence to his rep as an artist to watch. Matador's Casual Victim Pile comp of bands from Austin and Denton, TX (featuring both Tre Orsi and Woven Bones) makes a compelling argument for relocating to the Southwest. I've only listened Naked on the Vague's Heaps of Nothing a handful of times thus far but I'm digging it quite a bit.

There's also a lot of stuff to look forward to in the coming months. Former Silkworm members Tim Midget and Andy Cohen will give us another album from their Bottomless Pit in August. Also in August, Grass Widow will release their second album and first for mid-sized indie Kill Rock Stars, so we can expect lots of attention from the chumps who ignored their debut. Speaking of KRS, they'll be releasing the debut album from former Sleater-Kinney singer/guitarist Corin Tucker's new band in September. And hell, maybe we'll even get the long-promised full-length from Nuevo León, Mexico's XYX on Siltbreeze.

So there you have it, a bunch of music that you'll probably find more rewarding than MGMT name-dropping a former member of Roxy Music. And if you don't, this probably isn't the blog for you, boyo.

New Release: Tre Orsi

Before I contented myself with making podcasts for solitary listening, I used to be a DJ. That is, I used to play pre-recorded music in a public space for the pleasure (or displeasure) of whomever was in the particular venue at the time. One record (well, double CD, factually) I always had on standby was What's Up, Matador? In my mind, it's one of the finest rock compilations of all time. It's almost certainly the best rock comp of the 90s, beating out strong contenders like Abridged Perversion and the Clueless soundtrack.

What's Up, Matador? was not intended to be an overview of its era but simply a cheap sampler of bands on the Matador label through its first five years. Nonetheless, it plays like it's comprehensive: the definitive statement on pre-OK Computer/pre-Strokes/pre-suburban-emo-explosion indie rock. Disparate bands making different sounds, sharing some common influences and a commitment to doing it their own way. If grunge was America's punk and 1990s alt-rock its new wave, then WUM? was its Wanna Buy a Bridge?

While one of WUM?'s strengths is its variety and it's unlikely that any of its bands sought to sound like each other or even behold themselves to the parameters of a genre, there is an inescapable if almost intangible sonic kinship to some of the songs. Heartfelt without histrionic over-emoting. Cerebral with out being clinical. Melodically dynamic and instrumentally expressive without forgetting to bring the rock. (And usually mid-tempo.) You could hear it in songs like Yo La Tengo's "Tom Courtney," Liz Phair's "Stratford-On-Guy" and Silkworm's "Couldn't You Wait." You could hear it in cuts from non-Matador bands of the era, like Sebadoh's "The Freed Pig," Polvo's "Tilebreaker" and Versus' "Bright Light." I certainly wouldn't use the term "generic," but it was prevalent enough that I, however naively, considered it to be the "indie rock sound." That is, if someone said they were into indie rock at the time, that's the sound of which I thought they were speaking. And they usually were, more or less. (Nowadays when someone says they're into "indie," I have no clue what they like. But that's a story for another time.)

So why am I talking about one record when I'm ostensibly reviewing another? When I heard "The Engineer" from Denton, TX band Tre Orsi on the Casual Victim Pile compilation (coincidentally [or not] released on Matador 16 years after WUM?) earlier this year, it brought back a flood of warm memories of a bygone era. It wasn't so much the comfort of nostalgia as it was the thrill of rediscovery of a lost art, the head-slapping thought "Why don't more bands sound like this?" As good as Casual Victim Pile was (and it was quite good), "The Engineer" was head and shoulders the standout out track. I couldn't wait to hear more from Tre Orsi.

Today is the digital release of their debut album Devices + Emblems on the Comedy Minus One label. (The vinyl came out a few weeks ago.) "The Engineer" is here along with 8 (on the LP, 10 on the download) other tracks that prove this is a band worthy of your attention. I may have given the impression that Tre Orsi is merely some revivalist act. This is not the case. If they wanted to go that route, they could simply drive headfirst into cliche, which they thankfully avoid. Rather, the trio uses their influences as a foundation for their own style, simultaneously muscular and melancholy. That they could reclaim the soft/loud dynamic from nearly 20 years of terrible post-grunge and spin it into something distinctly their own on a song like "Best Kind of Failure" is nothing short of remarkable. I could cite other tracks as fine examples of their craft but, frankly, it seems a little redundant. There's simply not a bad one in the bunch.

In his review of this album for Dusted (which I'll freely admit is probably more convincing than this one), Doug Mosurock concludes "The notion of ‘90s indie rock might as well be folk music (or at least the sort of folk music we looked down upon in the ‘90s) but goddamnit, this is my folk music, and I’m sure more than a handful of you wouldn’t argue that it’s yours, too." I certainly concur, but I'll take it a step further. Devices + Emblems is one of the year's best albums. A subjective notion, sure. But if you wanted objective relevance you could head over the Hype Machine and let the algorithms steer you toward what's hot. I'm just a human recommending some human music. (Hey! That's another awesome comp!) Your reward is the same as mine.

New Release: Wounded Lion

Today sees the release of the self-titled debut album by Wounded Lion on the reliably superb In The Red label. I was on the fence on whether or not to feature this album as a new release. While it's more than worthy of a recommendation, I was struggling for anything insightful to say about these dozen tracks of affable garage pop. In preparation for this review, I wound up filling two pages of my handy reporter's notebook with solipsistic nonsense. I'll spare you the details. (Who says there's no editorial standards in blogging?)

Back to matter at hand, as I debated reviewing Wounded Lion I wound up listening to it quite a bit. With each listen, it grew on me considerably and I ultimately decided that my probable lack of worthwhile exegesis should not stand in the way of alerting you, dear reader, to this fine collection of songs.

Wounded Lion are not dissimilar to fellow Californians Nodzzz in their mix of rough simplicity and unrelenting catchiness. Actually, the band(s) I was reminded of most when listening to this platter were Big Dipper and the Embarrassment. Songs like "Hunan Province" and "Belt of Orion" seem to have inherited their sense of melody directly from Bill Goffrier's old bands, sources that are both fertile and infrequently replicated. This is not to suggest that Wounded Lion are merely derivative. Rather, they simply have fine apparent taste in influences. (Others according to their Facebook and MySpace pages: The Equals, Ivor Culter, The Eyes, The Sweet and Can. No qualms there.) And I would hope that readers of this page would know that any comparison to Big Dipper or the Embos should be considered a huge compliment. One can do a lot worse than blister pop for the 21st century.

Give this one listen. You may well wind up giving it several dozen more before you grow tired of it. Also be sure to check out their highly-entertaining, shoestring-budget video for "Pony People" below. Feel free to share it with your friends. It's just as meme-worthy as Lady Gaga's latest and doesn't feature any ironic-but-compensated-for product placement.

New Release: The Endtables

Someone at Drag City has apparently decided that they are going to be the keepers of the punk rock archives. Last year, the label released arguably the most revelatory reissue of the year: Death's For the Whole World to See. This year, they may have doubled that feat with today's release of a collection from Louisville, KY's Endtables.

Like Death, the Endtables released a lone seven-inch during their lifetime, in their case a 4-song EP. And like Death, it's unlikely that anyone beyond those close to the band heard it until one of its cuts was included on the compilation of rare punk singles Bloodstains Across the Midwest. (The legally dubious Bloodstains series numbers in the dozens and covers many regions but that's a story for another time.)

However, unlike Death, who reveled in Stooges/MC5/Blue Oyster Cult-derived hard rock, the Endtables were not classicists. Their guitar sound, courtesy of band founder Alex Durig, was tinny and jagged, not thick, heavy metal-style. His noisy leads and solos recall the controlled cacophony of early Greg Ginn. Vocalist Steve Rigot was an appealing non-singer, intoning in a manner that can only be described as "yelp-y." Occasional effects take his vocals even further from the realm of rock 'n' roll convention. His performing highlight has to be a "Shout"-styled "Hey-ey-ey-ey" during the song "Trick or Treat" that sounds like equal parts unenthused mental patient and injured animal.

Even the band's name gave notice they were not interested in being punk-by-the-numbers, whether you take it as acceptance of the everyday as opposed to clichéd rebellion or as a Duchamp-esque readymade. Or maybe it's just the thing you stub your toe on when you're not looking. The Endtables were one of the early figures of Louisville's nascent indie/punk scene. (See the compilation Bold Beginnings for a thorough overview.) Without too much difficulty, one could trace a line of inspiration backwards from later Louisville bands like Antietam, Squirrel Bait and Slint to the Endtables' atypical approach.

The Drag City self-titled collection complies the band's EP, a pair of studio cuts from the same sessions and half a dozen live tracks. It's not dissimilar from the artsy-but-not-too-fartsy punk of Dangerhouse-era Los Angeles. Ideas flowing in from New York, Cleveland and the UK galvanized many into picking up instruments and doing their own thing, resulting in some of the most exciting rock music ever made. The Endtables were as fine an example of any of this thrilling moment in music history, just before hardcore orthodoxy set in. The tape fuck-up, we've-already-started-thanks-for-joining-us intro to "Process of Elimination" might be the best beginning to a punk song ever and has long been a favorite in my household. Now it, along with the rest of the Endtables output, can be in yours as well.

New Release: Eddy Current Suppression Ring

Let's write a little speculative fiction, shall we? Let's say that John William Cummings was born with no hands, thus could not innovate the blitzkrieg downstroke. And let's say that Malcolm McLaren decided that he had an even better idea of how to sell clothes than putting together a rock band. If these things happened, does punk rock, as we know it, still happen?

Maybe it does in Australia. First wave Aussie-punk archetypes the Saints and Radio Birdman were performing as early as 1974, concurrent with the earliest CBGBs bands. They released their respective debuts back in 1976, both pre-dating vinyl from any UK punk group.

However, it's arguable that what the Saints, Birdman and their children were doing wasn't especially different from what was already going on in the rock scene down under. Bands like Coloured Balls and AC/DC weren't the bloated, in-need-of-shunting dinosaurs that Pink Floyd and Led Zep were. They were making some of the most vital, alive rock music of the mid-70s. Unlike in the UK and US, this new generation of Aussie rockers were more or less continuing in a straight line from their forebears rather than starting a revolution. Before "punk" existed, they had already figured out hardcore rock n roll in the land of Oz: keep it simple and dirty, attack with brute force and don't forget to swing. Ugly Things' Johan Kugelberg calls it "grillfat rock." I'm not sure exactly what this implies other than it probably goes best with lager.

Melbourne's Eddy Current Suppression Ring are firmly in the above tradition. Their third album Rush To Relax comes out today in US through the reliably fantastic Goner label. Needless to say it's a more than worthy purchase for anyone who likes their rock music stripped down and nasty.

In my post on 2008's best records, I wrote of ECSR's prior album, Primary Colours:

Sometimes it's hard to explain exactly why a band stands above the pack. Eddy Current Suppression Ring plays garage punk, plain and simple and lean and mean. There's no angle. No bells and whistles. Nothing to make blogger/critic/hype machine-types to perk up their ears and say "Oh, isn't that interesting!" So what makes ECSR better than the rest? It's that's indefinable quality called... I don't know... talent?

I'm perhaps a bit closer to figuring what it is that makes ECSR so much better than most of their garage punk brethren. I have some theories, at least. Maybe it's because they're equally adept at the slow burn and the stomper. Maybe it's because they know how to ride a groove. Maybe it's the fact that their guitars are a treble-y clang rather than a wall of fuzz, which allows the other instruments room to breathe. Maybe it's their keen sense of melody.

Well, whatever it is, the conclusion is that this is one of the finer rock music outfits around right now. If you're looking elsewhere for THE album to pick up this week, you're a real chump.

New Release: Ted Leo and the Phramacists

As a rule, writers who cover pop music tend to overvalue artists whose work is in touch with the zeitgeist. A cursory look at the essays of any Village Voice Pazz and Jop poll bear this out. It's simply not enough for critics to say what their favorite records of the year are. They need to explain why those records are important to the grander scheme of here and now. However, topical relevance and sociological implications are usually inessential to enjoying music, even if it makes for good (and, frankly, easier to write) copy. Plus, when heard many years later, it can sound incredibly dated. Have you listened to Lou Reed's New York album lately?

Still, it's impossible to listen to music outside of the context of one's existence. And even the most hermitic of us is surely shaped by the current state of the world. When an artist comments on the present, it can affect as us though they're expressing our own new and inexplicable feelings, perhaps in a way we never thought to before. Does this necessarily make for a better record? It can and often does add a vitality to the music, but only if the music's vital in the first place.

Such was the case with Ted Leo and the Pharmacists' Hearts of Oak, which perfectly encapsulated the emotions of post-9/11 America: The anger, the fear, the confusion and the subtle hope for a better, more peaceful world. Leo managed this without resorting to ponderousness or pretension, focusing his (and our) complex feelings of uncertainty and conflict into something relatable yet poetic. The album was a powerful statement and gave notice that Leo was a major artist. He's released a pair a full-lengths since, both of which had wonderful moments though neither quite managed to replicate the grandeur of Hearts of Oak.

That is, until now. With today's release of The Brutalist Bricks, Leo and co. give us what may well be their best effort yet. Like Hearts of Oak before it, The Brutalist Bricks captures its moment beautifully. Since the 2008 election, the reactionary response of the right has led many us to feel real change may not be possible. Hope has faded in cynicism. Leo shares our frustration but refuses to be beaten by it. His conviction makes us believe that there's glory in simply fighting the good fight whether or not we always get the outcome we want. Unfortunately, promos didn't come with a lyric sheet, so I've got nothing to quote but, believe me, the message comes through loud and clear.

This is all well and good but would mean little if the music wasn't as captivating as the lyrics. It is. The Brutalist Bricks is not any kind of departure from Leo's trademark sound. Rather, it distills his greatest strengths and offers some strongest melodies of his career. And it sounds fantastic, sporting crisp production with each element clearly pronounced in the mix. Listing highlights from an album this strong feels a bit arbitrary and redundant. However, I will note that the soaring "Ativan Eyes," the vibrant, pounding "Gimme the Wire" and the insanely catchy "Bottled in Cork" are the songs I'm most looking forward to hearing the next time I see the Pharmacists at one their justly lauded live shows.

The album is streaming in full on MySpace, if you want to give it a listen. And you really should. It's an early contender for album of the year.

New Release: Stroke-Songs for Chris Knox

On Tuesday, Merge Records released Stroke: Songs for Chris Knox. The 2-CD tribute album is a benefit for Knox, who suffered a stroke last year. I'm not sure what New Zealand's health care system is like (I'm going to assume it's still better than that of the US), but all proceeds are going to Knox, who could apparently use the money.

The album is sure to receive some degree of attention, being that it contains cuts from the recently-departed Jay Reatard and the always-reclusive Jeff Mangum of Neutral Milk Hotel, his first official release since God-knows-when. Also contributing are many of Knox's New Zealand contemporaries (The Chills, The Bats, The Verlaines, David and Hamish Kilgour of the Clean) and more than handful of current indie rock superstars (AC Newman, Yo La Tengo, the Mountain Goats among others), all of which gives credence to Knox's influence over the past three decades.

Hopefully, this will not only ameliorate Knox's recovery but also garner him some additional fans. Knox's discography with the Tall Dwarfs, Toy Love and as a solo artist is extremely impressive, hitting a sweet (but not sugary) spot between perfect pop melodies and lo-fi noisy weirdness more consistently than just about anyone since. In particular, the Tall Dwarfs' Hello Cruel World (which collects their first four EPs) has long been a favorite in my household and is perhaps the best entry point for the world of Chris Knox.

Below are a pair of videos for songs both available on Hello Cruel World. Also, be sure to check out Merge's Stroke page for clips of each song from the tribute album. Full versions are, of course, available for purchase.