The context of a listener’s introduction and research into certain bands can prematurely — sometimes unfairly — paint the music before the play button is even pushed. In the case of the do-it-yourself-damnit indie trio Menomena, however, the background check helps more than it hurts.

The Portland, OR trio is a self-produced band, unbound to any specific instrumental roles, who compose their refreshingly off-kilter rock by layering it, riff by riff, with looping software one of the members programmed himself. Though that stacks some high walls of expectations, with Mines, their fourth studio effort, they have finally made like Mister Gorbachev and torn that shit down, reaching out and applying some good ol’ economic efficiency to a previously convoluted sound.

What’s really memorable about Mines is that despite paring down some of their more jarring stylistic flairs, the band maintains near-constant progression within songs and across the album as a whole. Oddball lyrics and synth melodies snake around buzzing basslines, propped up by smashing percussion and (for a change) stunningly bare piano parts that almost bring the album into Broadway-musical territory. The guitars and the central repeated riff that characterize most indie rock today are no longer king in Mines’ byzantine world. Atmosphere and chameleon-like dynamics are taking over, with album highlights “Tithe” and “Five Little Rooms” at the front of the push. It certainly isn’t orthodox music creation, but it’s intriguing and invigorating nonetheless.

The only real knock against the album, is the classic issue of self-produced acts: the band has a tendency to stuff too many good ideas into their songs at once, especially near the center of the album and on the opener “Queen Black Acid”. When Menomena get their affairs properly squared away and ideas sorted, though, what’s left is some of the most rollicking, boundary-pushing, yet enjoyable rock music to be released in quite a while.

[4.5/5.0]

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Robin Pecknold (of Fleet Foxes fame) released a behind-the-scenes documentary covering a recent solo tour opening for Joanna Newsom. Shot by Pecknold’s brother Sean, the 14-minute B&W video is as mesmerizing as you’d expect, especially with some nice camera work.

For folk fans, I haven’t seen something this captivating since Jeff Tweedy’s behind the scenes footage.

Our friends over at The Bay Bridged are proud to announce their second annual fundraiser, Regional Bias. This Friday July 23rd Thao Nguyen, John Vanderslice and others will take the stage at Potrero Hill’s Verdi Club to celebrate independent music’s vital place in Bay Area culture. Local artists and foodies will also be selling their wares.

Purchase your advance tickets ($20) here or simply show up at the door at 7PM.

When: Friday Jul 23rd, 7PM

Where: The Verdi Club, Potrero Hill

Why: Music, Culture and the Bay Bridged Rock!

How Much: $20 – 50

From the start, Dark Night of the Soul was different. See, when a group of well-established music-makers get together for those mightiest of collaborations known as ’supergroups’, the result is usually either an unbaked mush of ideas (goddamn Chickenfoot) or an affirmation of form — a reminder that, oh, yeah, this bunch of folks can still enjoy a jam (see: Monsters of Folk, Them Crooked Vultures). A secretive project putting a gaggle of wonderful vocalists, high-strung alt-rocker Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse and subtly dark producer Brian Burton aka Danger Mouse in cahoots with film visionary David Lynch, though, couldn’t be the usual shit-shooting in the recording studio. Something seismic was expected from precedence alone.

In the summer of ‘09, when the album’s release was canned, expectations were cooled significantly. With Linkous’s suicide this March, they were understandably practically erased. Now it’s officially out on the street, almost wounded, darkness in tow, and with a wide range of singers and sporadic sounds, the album (surprisingly) eulogizes its troubled history. Instead of wallowing in murk, it manages to soar.

The majority of the album itself is Danger Mouse’s specialty: loaded and orchestral-backed pop, slow, thematically-heavy songs that are simultaneously juxtaposed and buoyed by comfortably warped anthems (with especially juicy percussion this time around). What elevates this from his other work, though, is clearly Linkous’ before-unseen lyrical focus. Paired with sunny-day melodies and far-off choirs, concise phrases like, “Please/ please/ sun/ shine”, from the swirling robotic lullaby “Star Eyes (I Can’t Catch It)”, disarm to a point of awe. Only when the album tries to shift into high gear do its weaknesses appear. As purposeful as your angularity may have been, here’s looking at you, “Pain”.

Still, one off-track is far from what’s needed to derail this one-way ticket to a secluded section of the mind, with all the other songs serving up the best dynamics, distortion use, and build showcased by either of the composing musicians yet, a fact driven home by the album’s near-commercial-nonexistence. Far from a casualty of those legal slap-fights of record label lore, though, Dark Night of the Soul can now inhabit the realm it rightly deserves: a tender, if not bittersweet, dedication to a guiding light lost to the fog that we stumble through, and a superb work of collaborative art in its own right.

Rest in peace, Mark.

[4.5/5.0]

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It’s been a while since Aloe Blacc’s single “I Need a Dollar” hit the interwebs to much acclaim (it was the only saving grace to HBO’s lackluster new series, How to Make It in America, aside from Luis Guzman). But finally we have a release date from the folks over at Stones Throw AND a tracklist.

Track List:

1. I Need a Dollar
2. Green Lights
3. Hey Brother
4. Miss Fortune
5. Life So Hard
6. Take Me Back
7. Femme Fatale
8. Loving You Is Killing Me
9. Good Things
10. You Make Me Smile
11. If I
12. Mama Hold My Hand
13. Politician (Reprise)

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Deerhunter is set to release Halcyon Digest on September 28th via 4AD.

Tracklist:

1. Earthquake
2. Don’t Cry
3. Revival
4. Sailing
5. Memory Boy
6. Desire Lines
7. Basement Scene
8. Helicopter
9. Fountain Stairs
10. Coronado
11. He Would Have Laughed

“Slow Motion” is the b-side to Panda Bear’s new single Tomboy and if I do say so myself it outshines the feature track. Thank god we’ve got a full album of this goodness coming our way in the Fall.

Prediction: this song gets remixed and mashed to death with Jay-Z or something.

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It’s summertime, and the good people of America demand their relaxation music, their road-trip music, their so-sunny-your-eyes-fry, feel-good music. With their sophomore effort Disconnect from Desire, the joyful trio School of Seven Bells clearly intend to satisfy those seasonal needs with pseudo-’80s guitar and synth numbers so light they’re practically airborne. Sadly, Disconnect pitches the group into a structural and creative nosedive faster than you can say ‘Amelia Earhart was never found again’.

If nothing else, the album starts off promising. “Windstorm” is an infectious opener, with the kind of hook you’d want playing in a montage of a day spent waltzing through shopping malls and carnivals — until it’s repeated again and again with no additional depth, no refinement. This killer flaw can be found anywhere you glance in Disconnect, with whole tracks beginning to sound disturbingly alike. But wait — it gets worse! The lax song construction is made all the more apparent by a lack of variety in expression beyond ‘airy’ by singer Alejandra Deheza, not to mention her awkward-to-confoundingly obtuse lyrical technique (most likely the result of creating songs by starting with her lucid-dream-inspired lyrics — good idea, bad execution). Take into account the stale drum machine usage here and, voila, we have a recipe for being let down.

That Disconnect from Desire becomes less of a title and more a prophecy is a damn shame, a Hindenberg if there ever were one for the still-maturing indie-pop scene here in the US. It could have been a hell of a ride, but with only bursts of the aural potential and harmonic beauty demonstrated by Seven Bells’ other work, it instead brings to mind that tinny radio broadcaster’s voice shouting over the image of melting metal wreckage and dreams dispersed in a puff of ignited hydrogen. Oh, the humanity, indeed.

[2/5]

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