Sound Salvation Army

“As we’re waiting for the light to change we see this goth girl run to cross the street. A goth girl, running. You don’t often see goth people run. I think because obviously it spoils the whole image, right? You can’t be in a hurry and goth.”
~ Paul F. Tompkins

Call it what you will: an identity crisis, a marketing ploy, or a gradual evolutionary progression of older musicians that don’t drink as much anymore but are still trying to maintain an edge of darkness and desperation in their music. Old-school Alkaline Trio fans have been lamenting the bands steady slide into faux-Satanic caricatures for years. With a new album on its way it appears we’ve got a ways to go before they leave that affectation behind.

This latest album, This Addiction, was said to be a return to form for the group; they’ve come back to long-time producer Matt Allison and his Atlas Studios for the recording, they’ve pared back the maddeningly thick layers of overdubs and effects that have weighed down their last few records, and they even promised a return to the spirit of their early work. They may have succeeded to a large extent, but you know what they say about close only counting in certain situations and circumstances.

Alkaline Trio’s early recordings were fueled entirely by alcohol consumption, heartbreak, and self-loathing. Their brutal lyrical confessions went hand-in-hand with downright poetic allusions and turns-of-phrase; “Even Christ himself would cringe at the sight of your scars,” went the first song from their first full-length, setting the tone for four nearly flawless albums. But those elements have slowly dwindled, being replaced by an ever-expanding faux-goth sensibility that manifests in a lyrical obsession concerning all things hell, darkness, poison, vampires, death, and gothness. Bassist/singer Dan Andriano seems to be the only member not circling that particular drain, but with only three contributions to this album he doesn’t have the presence to counteract the cloying “darkness” of the other members.

But taken as a whole I would call this record a success, although their attempt to regain the spirit of their earlier work seems to mean re-appropriating elements of older songs in a new context. These things will likely be immediately recognizable to long-time fans: “The American Scream” recycles a guitar riff from “Warbrain,” the band’s contribution to the Rock Against Bush releases from five or six years ago. “Dead On The Floor”’s opening riff is vaguely reminiscent of “Southern Rock”’s, while the rest of the song reads like a more sombre “‘97.” Andriano even lifts a lyric from “Private Eye” and drops it into “Dine, Dine My Darling” (which is a great play on an old Misfits song title).

But those are minor quibbles. There are only so many power chords available to a band and if we’re being honest with ourselves there has always been a familiar thread running through a lot Matt Skiba’s guitar arrangements. It’s punk rock; they’re not reinventing the wheel. On the whole this is a very worthwhile effort and there are a lot of quality songs on here. “Dead On The Floor,” “Dorothy,” “Piss and Vinegar,” first single “This Addiction,” and most of “Lead Poisoning” definitely embody the spirit of their first records. “The American Scream” is the anti-war songs Skiba should have written for Agony & Irony instead of the god-awful cliche horrorfest that was “Over and Out.” “Draculina” is a perfectly serviceable song, although the lyrics are packed to the gills with the goth-lite keywords mentioned above: an Alice In Wonderland reference, knives, a character trapped in their “own living hell,” blood/bleeding, bullets, birds of prey, stinging bees, heaven, angels, demons, dark secrets, teeth “sinking deep” into someone’s flesh, the devil, and exorcism. And yes, an adult put all of those words into a single three and a half minute rock song.

That song aside I would argue there are only two big missteps here. The first pertains to the third track, “Lead Poisoning,” and is the reason I included that quote from Paul F. Tompkins at the start of this piece. It’s a classic four-chord Alk3 stomper with big hooks and a strong vocal from Skiba. But my issue lies in the trumpet solo that comes at the 1:50 mark. It sounds like it was lifted from a NOFX album circa 1996; it’s bright, it’s bouncy, and it’s definitely a playful move from a band that has really opened itself up to experimenting with new sounds in the last five years. But much like you don’t see goths running, there’s a reason you don’t hear a lot of horns on Bauhaus records. It just doesn’t fit the aesthetic of a song when Skiba is singing about getting poisoned, laying his weary head down to sleep, and praying to his dark lord. It’s incongruous, almost comical-sounding, given the context, but at least there is a good song wrapped around that moment.

“Eating Me Alive” isn’t quite so likely. I had previously chastised a song from their last record as Skiba’s most terrible work yet but he’s dug an even deeper hole this time around. The lyrics are simply embarrassing. More importantly they’re lazy, hackneyed, and trite. “You can’t sit there and tell me that I didn’t try/And I can honestly tell you that I never lied”? Really, Matt? Did that need to be said? And the guy can’t even muster up the guster to sing this song with any level of conviction. I’m pretty sure you can hear his own fucking eyes rolling as he’s singing the words, like he’s staring up at the ceiling wondering how it all came to this. I’m pretty sure overly dramatic, suicidal teenage girls will even laugh at this song. It’s just the worst. Skiba probably should realize that its okay to only have 10 songs on your album. You don’t need the filler.

And the song itself! What? I know Skiba said you were listening to The Cars a lot when they recorded Agony & Irony but that really comes through on this number. Everything but the chorus is draped in some pretty gross keyboards. I mean, I’m not a huge fan of keyboards but it just sounds like a different band.

As mentioned, Dan Andriano continues to be a big part of the reason I keep coming back to this band. While he only has three songs on this record (I assume he’s saving more for his new band/solo project, which I’m very pumped for) they continue to be some of the album’s strongest. That goes double for “Fine,” another strong Dan closer on par with From Here To Infirmary’s “Crawl.” It’s also a song about drinking too much and denying how messed up you really are. Talk about your classic Trio! Musically he continues to wear his Jawbreaker influences on his sleeve, something I will never ever ever complain about.

I guess what this all amounts to is the problem most people inevitably run into if they follow a band for a very long time: reconciling new directions with old perceptions. But for the first time it kind of feels like even Alkaline Trio themselves might be getting tired of their blood-dripping, faux-Satanic imagery. It’s been feeling more and more forced over the course of their last three records and I’m kind of hoping This Addiction proves to be the breaking point where they leave that phase behind. Based on the evidence here I’d say that could only be a good thing.

Pat entries Alkaline Trio, legacies, nice tries, pop, punk rock, the goths

While the name Dojo Workhorse implies two things that are very physical and manly, you might get an entirely different sense from listening to this debut album than its sobriquet might suggest.

See, Dan Vacon doesn’t shy away from talking about his musical influences, even in song. As previously mentioned in our review of his band’s last album, the song “Ghosts We’re Buried On” discusses the roots of Vacon’s love of music. He’s described the Dudes brand of rock and roll as Al Green meets the Flaming Lips. The dude is the modern embodiment of white-boy soul. This album is his attempt to illustrate that fact, but it’s not the tempestuous brand of soul. There is no gittin’ on up-ah. This is an album that is alternately gentle yet celebratory, lovely yet concerned with lovin’.

I suppose the easy way out of this review would be to say that this is the sensitive side of the Dudes frontman, a more acoustic-leaning, down-tempo distillation of their most passionate moments. But that’s not quite the whole truth, as far as I see it anyway.

To begin: this might be one of the loveliest albums released this year from a musical standpoint. The stable of contributing musicians has clearly been carefully chosen and every note is lush and vibrant, from the subtle handclaps of tracks like “Misbehave” and “I Got Life” to the buoyant horns littered through the majority of the tracks to Vacon’s gently intimate, at times pleading, vocals. I can imagine many young ladies turning the lights down and listening to this record in the bathtub. Relaxing!

But sensitivity is only one part of the puzzle. While the majority of these songs are tender, balladic even, he keeps his sense of humour intact. The intimate and self-reflective nature of most of the songs doesn’t lend itself to some of the humourous premises posited in some Dudes’ songs, although hearing Vacon attempt to woo a potential paramour by quietly insisting, “Fuck what your girlfriends say/let them pay for tomorrow/their time is borrowed/give me today,” could bring a smile to one’s face. One the Dudes-liest moments comes in the same song (”Misbehave”) when he opens with the incredible, “I want to hold your hand/but I’m a modern man.” I’m not sure what that means, but it’s entertaining.

However there’s a bit of a catharsis inherent in those asides, which are littered throughout a number of songs. Vacon posits the record as a more serious endeavour, a more intimate and insightful work. There are several tracks here that are downright heartbreaking: the trio of songs falling in the middle of this record (”Late For Life,” “Laval Street,” “How To Be Lonesome”) are as honest and affecting as any I’ve heard in a long time. They perfectly embody the beauty and catharsis of life and its numerous frightening realities. There are stirring string arrangements, french ladies singing and some genuine human regret and emotion. But when the songs on either side of that suite utilize filler lyrics that completely pull you out of the moment it is completely and genuinely disappointing.

To wit: Vacon’s plea in “Ohio” to a lover: “Angel, spread your wings/and get us the eff out of here.” This injection on “Truly Wasted”: “And I’m like, what the fuck?” The aforemetioned kiss-off to a lady’s girlfriends.

I understand that young people like to curse. I do it an awful lot myself, so much so that it drove my mother off of Facebook. I have no doubt that it’s reflective of how Dan is in real life and how he relates his feelings and how he writes. But it seems purposefully anachronistic and jarring when set against such beautifully orchestrated songs. It makes those portions of the songs feel half-done, half-considered.

Now, I can forgive it in proper context. “I Got Life” is the inverse of Marvin Gaye or Sam Cooke’s gospelizing, an athiest anthem that is confident but not antagonistic. He sings, “I feel alright/I’ve got the lord in me/which is a surprise/because I don’t believe in nothing” and “Don’t if feel good not to be a total asshole?/No one ever goes to hell, go on, forgive yourself/I am good just because I am/heaven can’t tell me nothing.” That I identify with, and not only because I share the same philosophy. But in the context the word “asshole” comes off somehow smoother, more properly-placed.

I really like this record. I love the huge string parts, the sprightly acoustic guitar, the horn charts, the flutes, the acapella closer, the incredible melodies and harmonies. I love the honesty of these songs. Without the few lyrical bumps in the road this is an absolute winner.

The band’s official website seems non-functional, but their myspace directs purchasers to Amazon Canada. There’s also this site, although it seems to be major label affiliated. They edorse iTunes as well.

Pat entries Canadian content, Dojo Workhorse, indie, pop, soft rock, soul, the Dudes

I don’t even know what’s going on here.

When this record first came on my iTunes without my knowledge (after sitting there since April without a single spin) I had to check and see who it was. I had no idea it was arguably Canada’s most iconic, instantly-recognizable rock band. Normally we likely wouldn’t be writing about the Tragically Hip on this website, but the fact that someone has been able to take a band with a signature sound that is ingrained in the very fabric of an entire nation and render them alien is a feat worth noting.

To Americans: I honestly don’t think there is a band that hews as closely for you as the Hip do to we Canadians. Its like AC/DC is to Australia, only not as meat-headed, generally less offensive to the senses and more polite. The very essence of Canadian. They’ve been around more than twenty years, issuing a series of albums that are generally hard to find fault in. A few of them achieve greatness, the majority are at the very least good. Their singles are staples of rock radio across the nation, but they’re rarely as annoying a Can/Con presence as Avril Lavigne, Celine Dion, or Bryan Adams. One might say they were innocuous if they weren’t so widely adored: they are members of the Canadian Music Hall of Fame and have the record for most number one debuts on the Canadian Albums Chart.

But on this album things are different. Their constant double-guitar, meat and potatoes rock has never been as universally muted across a set of songs; singer Gord Downie’s outpatient-off-his-meds wailing has never been so missing-in-action; the mood has never been so gently self-reflective.

It all starts with the deliciously understated “Morning Moon,” an alt-country tinged number soaked in harmonies and backing vocals, an equally harmonious mix of slide guitar leads and acoustic rhythm, and a vocal performance that pulls back hard on the reigns. Downie sounds like he’s staring off into a sunrise, gently relating a tale of days gone by. One of my favourite tracks follows: “Honey, Please” has a bit of adult-contempo sheen to the production, but some light piano and organ serves as a reminder that things are a little different here. The vocal melody soars into a delightful falsetto I didn’t even know Downie possessed. “The Last Recluse” uses the Canada Goose as a lyrical touch-point, and the marvelous “Coffee Girl” is a revelatory number that almost sounds like an old Beck number (he and Cat Power are referenced in the song). It sounds a little odd to hear dudes that must be approaching their late 40’s (at least) sing about making mix tapes for baristas, but the shuffling beat and muted trumpet solo in the bridge should make you swoon long enough to forget the source. Early on in “Now The Struggle Has A Name” you’ll swear someone entirely different is singing.

The sequencing of the album really serves to push the difference in sound. The further in you get the more familiar the elements and songs become. Downie really doesn’t even sound that much like Downie until the nine-minute “The Depression Suite,” where he reaches the full heights of his tenor in the pleading tone we’ve grown so accustomed to over the decades. From there “Queen of the Furrows” sees the Big Rock Guitars making their first real return, but they sound lower, almost dull in comparison to other Hip records. Its hard not to think producer Bob Rock is intentionally cutting the band’s machismo a bit (Metallica fans are already familiar with that procedure). Single “Love Is A First” has Downie returning to some of his more clipped, bombastic vocal tones as the electric guitars continue to try and reassert themselves. In the old days this song likely would’ve lead-off the album, waving the anthemic rock flag as proudly as in decades past. “Country Day” plays the band out with an amalgamation of the disparate halves, with processed strings and nearly-choral backing vocals swelling beneath a perfectly Hip-ish mid-tempo rock tune.

This will no doubt be a divisive release. On one side, Coke Machine Glow and its band of merry Hip-sters. They eschew anything so corporate and mainstream as a Bob Rock-produced album and are calling this the only truly awful Hip album ever, lamenting the fact that guitars are muted while cheesy strings are pushed to the top of the mix on a handful of songs. On the other, old people who are aging right alongside the band members and are really enjoying the softer take. They first heard of Feist in a Starbucks or an iPod commercial and they insist this is the bold new direction of a band reinventing themselves (though they still think the rock songs are back-loaded on the album and really, there should probably be more of them).

The Bob Rock angle is intriguing. I think I can genuinely say this album would be very different if it wasn’t for his influence, but I’m not sure how far from their comfort zone the band would’ve strayed with someone else behind the board. Its clear they went into the recording session with a strong focus on approaching the songs from a different direction, but I wonder what might have happened if, say, We Are The Same had been self-produced.

Listening to this album without prejudice is nearly impossible for any good Canadian, but for one that hasn’t listened to a Hip album all the way through since 1998’s Phantom Power its a welcome and intriguing break from the storied/staid idea of the Hip as Canuck Rock Gods. This is a band I would listen to on a Sunday morning while cleaning up from the night before, the soundtrack to contemplative moments of isolation and self-reflection.

The Hip have a ludicrous amount of merchandise available through the Maple Music site, including hockey jerseys. iTunes can also help.

Pat entries Bob Rock, Canadian content, mainstream, pop, rock, the Tragically Hip

Spookey Ruben is Canada’s undisputed musical oddball. From his debut more than a decade ago with the song “These Days Are Old” (with it’s nonsensical “oodle-oop-wee-iy-iy-oh-oo-yeah” refrain) and the cracked genius of the video that accompanied it, he’s been the musical visionary that never quite made it into the mainstream. Despite a high-profile label backing his first several releases he never quite broke into the public conscious in a big way, despite some heady critical praise (one reviewer called his debut album the Pet Sounds of the 90’s).

There is an unbelievable amount of stuff happening on his latest album, Mechanical Royalty, so much so that its hard to say where to begin. Taken as a whole, you could argue that the entire album is a tribute to lost keyboard and synth sounds that have fallen out of vogue in the last twenty years. Ruben and his band have, in fact, been known to pull out a dozen keyboards while performing these songs live. They’re sprinkled so liberally throughout the record that you really only notice when they aren’t playing, as Ruben weaves them so thoroughly into the tapestry of the music that they feel at home despite the fact that some of them sound painfully aged.

Taking a closer look at individual tracks, Ruben seems to be focusing on reclaiming various genres as his own on the majority of these songs. The keys, retro production/instrumentation, female backing vocals, and lyrics of “If You Wanna Know” and “U Don’t Know What You’re Missing” come off like lost Prince b-sides from the 80’s. “Rachel” is straight-up classic pop songwriting, drum machine beats and roboticized backing chants bolstering a bouncy soundscape consisting primarily of acoustic guitar and keys and Ruben’s acrobatic vocals. “American Processed Cheese” wanders into ‘heavy metal’ territory with predictably Velveeta results. “Superpoke” riffs on Facebook and its impact on the social fabric of society, the heavily-synthesized instrumentation coming off just a few keys short of elevator music until a saxaphone solo straight out of Huey Lewis and the News knocks the floor out from under you.

The unmistakable centerpiece is the title track, a guitar-heavy paean to prog-rock mainstays like Rush and Yes, a story about war between an advanced race of robots and the humans that created them that spans seven “chapters” and 15 minutes. It doesn’t seem to offer much if any sub-text that might connect it to the industry term that its title refers to (the cut an artist/songwriter/publisher gets from the sale of a physical/digital piece of music), but serves more as a reminder that despite our proclivity for creating and obsessing over technology mankind can often let it take us over instead. It definitely reaches what seems to me to be the ultimate goal of prog music: showing off the talent of the musicians. Let me tell you, the chops on here are so huge you would think Vince Shlomi had something to do with it.

So what are we left with? A true individual following whatever bizarre muse inspires him, a collection of songs that sound fun even when they’re aren’t necessarily meant to be, and a butt-load of keyboards. It might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but Ruben has crafted a deft, well-produced, and thoroughly unique set of songs that speak to his quirky nature and inherent ability. Any fan of pop music should find at least a little something to like here.

Check out the Ruben-ator’s stuff at Hi-Hat Recordings’ merchandiser’s website or on l’iTunes.

Pat entries Canadian content, keyboards, left field, pop, Spookey Ruben

Sound Salvation Army is generally a pretty positive place; that’s why it’s kept a fairly consistent updating schedule in the year and a half or so its been around. We write about what we like, so we like to keep writing. That’s not entirely the case today.

Remember these guys? They weren’t embarrassed by their limited musicianship, the fact that none of their songs had more than four chords, and the closest thing they got to insight was, “Disaffected 20-somethings like to jerk it and are bored.” Or, “Life in the slums is depressing.” Well, apparently they’ve matured. Sort of.

Green Day’s 21st Century Breakdown is virtually the same album as American Idiot, the opus from three years ago that made them the biggest band in the world (again). They sound and are structured virtually the same, broken down into “suites” or sub-sections that tell a story (but not really) of characters living on the fringes of society and railing against the mainstream. Which, of course, is exactly what the band is now.

This time around they’ve done it by convincing themselves that they are the Who. Its all built upon huge, windmilling guitar riffs and more bigger everything. Musically there’s nothing really new here, aside from a bit more piano and acoustic guitar. Its fine, really, but that’s not what’s important.

The real issue is that they seem to have started buying into their own hype, feeling the need to repeat the last trick that vaulted them to the top of the industry. Its something they haven’t resorted to in the past and that could be why it comes out smelling so wrong this time around.

21st Century Breakdown is replete with milquetoast “protest” music that rails against the vaguest sketches of the corrupt and immoral in modern society but doesn’t have the stones to actually construct a real and substantial explanation of why they’re so angry. That’s demonstrated in the early offing with first single, “Know Your Enemy.” The tune is catchy enough, a mid-tempo pop rock number that offers twice as many guitar solos as any other Green Day song ever (two!) and vague platitudes of standing up to “the vast majority” and “the demons of the soul.” There’s a thick sense of irony in the too-often repeated refrain of “Do you know your enemy?” — the band themselves never really seems to establish who their message is aimed at. At least with American Idiot the listener was able to infer Bush/Bush II were the targets. With the latter’s administration now banished to the fringes of the U.S. political system it seems like what little fury Green Day can muster is either a day late or clumsily misdirected at the major structured religions. If your goal is to create a story-based concept album centering around young adults and how the church can corrupt and destroy them, you’re kind of venturing off on a fool’s errand; we’ve already got Separation Sunday and topping that is going to be damn near impossible.

So forget the half-baked conceits of modern days and let’s harken back to better ones when three punk rock geeks from the 90’s punk mecca of Berkley were satisfied with just being Green Day and not with creating the biggest brand in modern music.

I remember in 1992/3 hearing my sister listening to Kerplunk!, their second LP, and being intrigued by it. I snuck into her room to tape the CD onto a cassette and I listened to it constantly. Reading, playing video games, shooting hoops in the driveway; Stephen King’s Richard Bachmann novels and The Legend of Zelda: A Link To The Past still conjure faint whispers of “No One Knows” and “Christie Road.” That was this band’s real accomplishment, as far as I’m concerned.

But I’m an equal opportunity fan of their older material. Their second through fourth albums were more or less flawless (the sixth too). There are gems throughout the band’s history that are worth a second look, especially now that their more bloviating tendencies are so starkly on display.

No disrespect: they’re still one of my all-time favourite bands of all-time, thanks especially to the impact their music had on my formative youth. But seriously you guys, the Foxboro Hot Tubs album? So much better than this.

Pat entries 21st Century Breakdown, American Idiot, Green Day, Kerplunk, pop, pop rock, rock

In taking our cues from Devo, we’ve decided to whip the proverbial cream before it sits out too long.

Avast, poor Lucksmiths; we hardly knew ye. My favourite Australian band of ever is breaking up. Read more about the end of a wonderful era right here and learn more about the finest band that nobody ever cared about over here.

It’s a sad day.

Pat entries Australia, break-ups, guitar pop, pop, the Lucksmiths

Sad and surprising news this week as one of Canada’s best bands is seeing one of its founding members pack it in. Steven Page, one of the singers and guitarists from the Barenaked Ladies, left the band on Wednesday, changing one of the country’s finest bands forever.

I’m no stranger to being mocked for my love of all things Barenaked Ladies. Unlike a lot of my fellow countrymen, I’ve stuck with the band album after album since they hit it big with their first release of youthfully energetic and catchy (some would say kitschy) songs. It’s sort of funny to talk to people who are only familiar with songs like “Grade 9” and that sort-of rap song that was a hit single a lot of years ago because their collected body of work is a lot more varied than some of the goofier songs might suggest.

There’s an underlying tone of malaise or darkness in a lot of their tracks that contradict their bright and playful melodies, and that streak comes courtesy of now-former member Steven Page. He was the one behind one of their biggest hits, “the Old Apartment,” which was something of a tortured lament of lost love. But there are numerous other examples of very serious topics addressed in popular song.

He’s had a roller coaster ride in his personal life in the last year or two, not only divorcing from his long-time wife but also getting busted in his new home in New York for cocaine possession. While the group says that isn’t the sole reason for this week’s break-up, it undoubtedly played a big part. The band will continue on without him, but I’m not sure how that’s going to go; the duality between Page and Ed Robertson is the heart of the group’s writing and I just don’t know if things will be the same. One way or another, they’ll be recording in a couple of months time so we can expect to see the results before the year’s end.

So in memory of better days, here are some of my favourite Barenaked Ladies tracks penned by Steven Page.

This appears to be where you buy BNL music, but this might work too.

Pat entries Barenaked Ladies, Canadian content, pop, Steven Page

7. Drag the River - You Can’t Live This Way
There’s probably no other band I’ve discovered in the last three years that has made as enormous impact on me as Drag the River has. Having already been a big fan of most of the member’s previous bands, it was a short leap to make. The story of this band is astounding; they broke up for the second time before this album came out, but it proved to be such an incredible group of songs that caught on so quickly they came back and started touring again to support it. The division between the group’s two primary songwriters is clearer than its ever been compared to their previous releases. Where they previously evened each other out, now they’re following their own tangents: one focuses almost entirely on quiet, sombre back-porch acoustic strummers while the other’s tendency towards weird rock/country hybrids takes over. Despite it’s more scattered nature, the songs are still incredible and I’d take either of these fellows over most bands any day of the week. Luckily, they’ve got four or five releases and some vinyl reissues planned for this year (many of them in February) so it seems they aren’t going anywhere.

8. the Lucksmiths - First Frost
Casual, acoustic-based pop songs from Down Under. After discovering this album a few months ago, I’ve since delved deep into their back catalogue, all the way to their first tape. It’s a bit astounding to me how one band can be so consistently good and still be completely unknown outside their native country, but I guess it happens. There really wasn’t a better album released this year to listen to while walking through a small town on a bright afternoon or sitting next to the window on a rainy day writing in your feelings journal.

9. Old Man Leudecke - Proof Of Love
Even when I thought this album was good, I didn’t realize how good it really was. I enjoyed a half dozen tracks immensely, but after his early set at the Folk Fest in Regina during the summer, seeing his awkward, hesitant charm in person, and realizing how much people I wouldn’t have expected to like him were enjoying his songs the rest really opened itself up to me. Effortless, friendly roots music that isn’t afraid to show its heart.

You Can’t Live This Way is on iTunes and hard copies are put out by Suburban Home/Vinyl Collective.
First Frost might be a bit harder. I mean, iTunes is easy enough. Physical releases may be available through Matinee Records, but we’ll have to see about that.
Proof of Love dominates iTunes and Black Hen Music has his physical releases.

Pat entries banjo music, Drag The River, First Frost, indie pop, Old Man Luedecke, pop, Proof Of Love, roots, the Lucksmiths, You Can't Live This Way

I’m so overcome by the amount of music coming at me right now I don’t know what to do about it. I’m working hard to make sure that nothing passes me by, even at a time when unsolicited submissions to the site are higher than ever (three this week alone! that’s huge for us!)

Obviously something has to rise to the top of the heap any time a heap accumulates somewhere, and the record that’s doing that for me right now is the newest effort from a band called the Lucksmiths, First Frost.

Part of the reason why I like it so much is because it’s a complete mystery to me, like the first time I heard Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci or Mineral or the Slackers, something that just comes out of the blue. When I first heard all of these bands I picked up their CDs on a whim and was completely blown away. Having literally no information about a group or the label, no idea what they sound like, and being completely won over is just an amazing and funky adventure.

Musically speaking the band treads in well-worn territory, slinging acoustic and electric guitars at some not terribly complicated quiet, bedroomy pop music. It’s an ode to guitar pop bands that are more pop than guitar, to closet musicians that self-record and aren’t ashamed about it (think American Analog Set only less breathy).

Content-wise the band pogos between relatively serious love songs and a curious bird that only wonders why in the heck the songs protagonist got drunk. There is actually more than one song about the singer getting drunk (at a swimming pool, even), not that there’s anything wrong with that.

It’s a terrific set of late fall/early spring songs that are just terribly enjoyable. That might not be the most colourful set of nouns, but but they really are.

iTunes has an incredibly thorough discog and for our Canadian friends, Boompa! released one of their albums. Otherwise you’d best visit U.S.-based labels like Matinee Records, but not the other one that’s pretty much defunct. Actually, why not just go to Australia’s Lost and Lonesome Recording Co.; you might pay more in shipping, but you can get everything in one fell swoop.

Pat entries acoustic, bedroom pop, First Frost, pop, the Lucksmiths

Pop music was made for summer. As a pusher/purveyor of pop music, that means that nary a season goes by without a celebratory mix tape to accompany it. What you’ll find in the .rar files linked below are ready-to-burn mixes meant to be listened to in the midst of a road trip, preferably with the windows rolled down. Pop and rock and pop rock are pushed to the forefront, because there’s nothing summery about pianos, cellos, and theremins. Crank it up.

Disc One
1. the Hold Steady - Constructive Summer // Craig Finn continues to be the master of the subtle shout-out, giving props to his old Minneapolis chums in Dillinger Four in the second verse of this song. Like the rest of their latest album, this song encourages you to rock out all summer long. One of the few overtly summer-named songs on this mix.
2. the Steinways - Main Street, Flushing, USA // Pop punk should be everyone’s summer soundtrack as far as I’m concerned, and few do that genre better than the Steinways right now. This ones about creeping out the ladies on the bus ride home.
3. O Pioneers!!! - the Weather Underground // I’ve said before how much I love this band, but that’s only because I do. Music as inspiration and rallying cry.
4. Nine Inch Nails - Letting You // Trent Reznor making semi-relevant music in 2008 (and reinventing music retail in the process) — who would’ve thought.
5. Black Mountain - Tyrants // My favourite track from their latest; epic guitar rock from what could be the new Zep, Jefferson Airplane, and Byrds all rolled into one.
6. Flight Of The Conchords - Robots // I’m sorry, I just love these guys. I may have been late to the party, but the party is still a lot of fun.
7. Ratatat - Shiller // Some parts could be a sound-alike for the X-Files soundtrack, but in a good way.
8. the Playing Favorites - Indigenous // Joey Cape has been one of my favourite songwriters for nigh on ten years. As the punk rock fades further and further into his rearview his tunes just get prettier and prettier. While this side project is middling at best, his contributions are flawless.
9. Tokyo Police Club - Listen To The Math // A distinct change of pace from their EP releases, there are several songs on their full-length debut that drop the fast-paced freneticism of earlier songs with dazzling results.
10. Wolf Parade - California Dreamer // Radio jams are always a plus in the summertime, even if they heavily reference winter in their lyrics.
11. Shad K - the Old Prince Still Lives At Home // Ontario rapper with often lovely, always clever, and frequently very deep lyrics. Such a great album.
12. Two Hours Traffic - Stuck For The Summer // Some fantastically hooky power pop that reminds me heavily of the last Phoenix album. Another great find from the radio show.
13. Johnny Cash - It Ain’t Me, Babe // See post from a few weeks ago.
14. Ninja Gun - Front Yard Screamers (Kitchen Kissers) // Kind of a Mellancamp-y, front porch tune about family.
15. Mike Hale - Before You Were Gone // Yeah, a bit depressing…but summer isn’t always 100% beaches and bombshell babes. Sometimes it’s just bombshells.
16. Trever Keith - Sick Of Me // Also depressing. One of the standout tracks from the self-released digital-only album from former Face to Face frontman.
17. Alkaline Trio - I Found Away // In last week’s review I talked about how this song should be the one that finally launches this band into the pop rock stratosphere. Even if it doesn’t, it’s a bright spot on the most middling album of their career.
18. the Hold Steady - Stay Positive // As with every hold steady song and album, this one is very referential. While newer fans or folks who only saw then on Letterman might miss the allusion to “Positive Jam,” a cut from their first album Almost Killed Me, long-time fans continue to get their shoutouts contained within another killer rock song. This band knows exactly what they’re doing.

Disc Two
1. the Gaslight Anthem - Great Expectations // The album of the summer so far, possibly of the year. While I don’t quite understand the complete obsession their fan base has for what I consider a mediocre first album, the ‘59 Sound is the real deal.
2. the Loved Ones - 3rd Shift // Nice build up.
3. Lemuria - Bee Spit // See post from a few weeks ago; one of the best, catchiest pop songs I’ve heard in years.
4. the Steinways - Oh My Fucking Gosh // Seriously.
5. Off With Their Heads - Your Child Is Dead // They raise some interesting points. What’s with the gun violence? I know this is old, but it was re-pressed this summer, so there.
6. Torche - Healer // From the brilliantly-titled Meanderthal. Weird but pretty great pop/metal hybrid that doesn’t sound like you think it does.
7. Able Baker Fox - Stuttering // One of the finest rock songs of the year. I think an associate called it an “unholy jam.” Really can’t disagree.
8. A Wilhelm Scream - Die While We’re Young // You know I love them.
9. Alkaline Trio - Do You Wanna Know? // See notes on previous Alkaline Trio song. The finest song Dan Andriano has written since “Maybe I’ll Catch Fire.”
10. Maritime - Be Unhappy // This song follows a tradition that dates back past Motown to the beginning of popular music (ie. “You Are My Sunshine”) — namely depressing, melancholy lyrics set to a catchy melody that belies the darkness of the content. Nothing does the job like a well-placed “doo doot doo doo do.”
11. Why? - These Few Presidents // One of the best misunderstood torch songs of recent years. That is, if you interpret the line, “Yours is a funeral I’d fly to from anywhere” as sweet and not foreboding.
12. Bloc Party - Flux // Propulsive, catchy, and frantically drummed, like a good Bloc Party song should be.
13. Portugal. The Man - Church Mouth // These dudes are in their own field (namely left field). I don’t know what it means, but it sounds good.
14. Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground - Hey Momma // Gatsby’s American Dream is awesome, but this song is wild and just perfect.
15. Malcolm Bauld - Royal Road // Former Frenetics frontman pens one of the most conflicted, sad songs I’ve ever heard, but keeps his optimism intact.
16. O Pioneers!!! - the Adventures of John Locke // Unimpeachable track from one of my favourite bands. The constant, unyielding strumming of the guitar and the hell-raising, guttural vocals are wonderfully cathartic.
17. Witches With Dicks - How To Cook 40 Humans // Pop punk that’s dirty and dangerous.
18. Be Your Own Pet - Zombie Graveyard Party // Pop punk filtered through teenage horror movie dance parties.
19. LaGrecia - According To My Notes // Probably the most well-disguised pure pop song of the year. I will never stop listening to this record.
20. No Use For A Name - Under The Garden // A throwback for me. NUFAN always reminds me of being in high school, going to punk rock shows, and sweating out your problems.

Part One can be downloaded here
Part Two is waiting for you here

We’ll be back in the coming days with more tasty mixes from our other staffers.

Pat entries Canadian content, jams, mix tapes, pop, pop punk, pop rock, summer