LEAVES – We Are Shadows (2009)

I’m always a little surprised how many bands upstage Coldplay at their own game. Doves did it this year with the wonderful Kingdom of Rust (an album that I’m enjoying more and more with each listen). As I’ve mentioned before (see above link), Ours did it last year with Mercy (Dancing For The Death of An imaginary Enemy). But there’s one band I mentioned in passing in my Doves review who really put the Brits from Coldplay to shame: Leaves, a little-known but incredibly talented group from Iceland. When Leaves released The Angela Test in the autumn of 2005, there was little reason left for anyone to listen to Coldplay’s X&Y, but because the band didn’t A) have any decent US distribution (The Angela Test was and currently is import-only) and B) receive any Stateside press due to A), X&Y remained on the charts while Leaves, despite their musical superiority, remained in obscurity.

Unfortunately, that’s not likely to change, as their new album, We Are Shadows, is currently available only through their Icelandic label’s webstore. However, if you’re willing to take the time to procure the album, you’ll be rewarded tenfold – We Are Shadows edges out The Angela Test on every level, making it the band’s strongest effort to date – it’s a great mix of deftly-executed alt-rock and that unique awe that music from Iceland tends to stir in the listener when it’s at its best (if you’re a fan of Sigur Rós or múm, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about).

Leaves demonstrate here a remarkable ability to create lush and spacious ballads (Kingdom Come), gloriously up-tempo rock songs (All The Streets Are Gold) and captivating ambient passages (the beautifully arresting Motion), and to make them all sound as though they’re a part of a cohesive whole. None of these contrasting styles sound out of place, and absorbing it all as an album only makes all the songs seem stronger. With Coldplay, there’s never any need to listen to any of their albums in one sitting (though that may change if their relationship with Brian Eno continues). A single here, a ballad there, and you’re good. The difference with Leaves (and with We Are Shadows, specifically), is that it’s hard not to take in the album as a whole. Hitting stop midway through…well, it just feels wrong.

Together with Kingdom of Rust, We Are Shadows proves that, if nothing else, Coldplay don’t own the sound that that got them to the top of the charts. Perhaps they never did. And really, I’m fine with that. You can’t own a sound, but you can always aim to perfect it. Leaves seem destined to do the latter, and I couldn’t be happier.

BIG BUSINESS – Mind The Drift (2009)

I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but a few years after Big Business formed, they became engulfed by The Melvins. And I’m not saying that “their music is eerily reminiscent of The Melvins” kind of way (though that is true); I’m saying that they literally became a part of the legendary sludge ensemble. When the two bands toured together in 2007, Jared Warren and Cody Willis would come out and play a set as Big Business, and then Buzz Osborne and Dale Crover would join them and then they’d play another set as The Melvins (with two drummers). I bring this up only because it’ll give you a great idea of what the Big Business sound is, because everyone (even if they aren’t aware of it) is familiar with the sound of The Melvins on some level or another, be it if they worship Houdini and Bullhead or if they’ve just absorbed the sound in a secondary fashion from the grunge movement.

So, now that we’ve got that out of the way, it’s time to continue – Mind The Drift is a bit of a departure for Big Business. The biggest difference is in the band’s use of guitars; their pummeling, downtuned riffs are now augmented by a cleaner, more melodic guitar which writhes on top of the low-end madness that the band typically work in. How much of this is due to the addition of new guitar player Toshi Kasai can only be speculated, so I’ll leave that up to you. The big question is, does it work? After a few listens, I’m not so sure. Big Business’ previous sound was monstrously heavy; Melvins’ references aside, the band could stand up against the likes of Floor and not look out of place. Musically, they were about as heavy as you could get without wading into Sunn O))) or Khanate territory. This newer sound isn’t bad, but the band don’t feel as powerful while using it, and that’s not a good thing.

If you’re looking for some seriously heavy and twisted music this year, I’d suggest Gnaw’s This Face – it’s a warped, bone crushing experience. And if you want to experience some true guitar bliss, Isis’ Wavering Radiant just might make you black out from too much of a good thing. That being said, I’m not going to not recommend Mind The Drift. Yeah, I know, that’s a cryptic thing to do, but I’m standing by it.

ART BRUT – Art Brut VS. Satan (2009)

While taking my writing capstone glass as a undergraduate, we were assigned to give a written report on a genre of our choosing, but it didn’t have to be a literary genre – it could be done on anything. One girl did hers on soap operas. Another, on prison rape scenes in films. And I did mine on postmodern music. I’m fairly certain that this was the only essay composed for the class which gave mention to John Cage, Steve Reich and Art Brut in equal measure. Why Art Brut, specifically? Well, at the time, it seemed almost necessary; when I first heard Bang Bang Rock and Roll what struck me about it more than anything else was how the band were mocking pop music by way of playing it (and this is key: playing it gloriously). Of course, perhaps that wasn’t their intention, but listening to the opening trio of Formed A Band/My Little Brother/Emily Kane, it was hard to come to any other conclusion.

I received an “A” on my essay, and a little under a year later, Art Brut would release It’s A Bit Complicated, an album with one of the most contextually perfect titles ever. And the music? Well, it seemed as though Art Brut had largely swayed away from the “pop mockery” side of things (if it ever existed in the first place – refutations welcome). That being said, the music on the album was rock solid, regardless of what mindset the band were writing/playing it from. So what does all this mean for Art Brut VS. Satan? It means that the band has an even greater chance of fading away as novelty, but damn it all if their music doesn’t get your foot tapping/head swaying – and when you’re dealing in pop, that’s 90% of the battle.

Just like It’s A Bit Complicated, the po-mo stuff is absent here (despite having songs named The Replacements and Twist and Shout); the band have stopped being a self-referential entity, and have focused on telling simple stories (sometimes interesting, sometimes cartoonishly NSFW, but always a pleasure to take in) to the backdrop of energetic garage punk. I’d now like to put forth the following query: what else could they have done? As an album, Art Brut VS. Satan not only works, but it makes sense – to deny it of its twofold success is to embark down a path of meaningless questioning: is DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshakes really any more or less weighty than Good Weekend or Direct Hit? And does it even matter? I think not. Po-mo musings or not, the music always comes first, and once again, Art Brut deliver.

I was going to end this post by making some broad, overarching statement about the outsider art movement from which Art Brut’s name is derived, and the broader acceptance the band is getting with each album. But I won’t. The last sentence of the previous paragraph sums things up nicely.

RUSTED ROOT – Stereo Rodeo (2009)

Let us go back to when last we left Rusted Root, shall we? The year is 2002. Rusted Root’s newest album is Welcome To My Party; it’s a departure from their previous work, in that it eschews the blues, world and tribal influences that made When I Woke and the eponymous Rusted Root so endearing in favor of poppy neo-funk. The result was an album that was entirely forgettable. So, the few of us who hadn’t fully embraced the freak-folk movement fully enough to disregard Rusted Root were left to wait for something new and (hopefully) better from the band. So, we waited. And waited. And then waited some more. Now, at some point here (I’m not sure where), I actually thought Rusted Root had disbanded, though I can’t say for sure why. Fortunately, that turned out not to be the case, as we now have Stereo Rodeo, the band’s seventh studio album, seven years in the making.

The title/album cover did not, upon first viewing, instill the greatest confidence in me. Stereo Rodeo? Is this some kind of alt-country thing? While it wouldn’t be an unprecedented trail for the band to embark on, songs like Rain and Virtual Reality from their back catalogue certainly don’t play to the band’s strengths. Then, I heard the album’s first song, Dance In The Middle, and it appeared to confirm all of my fears. I was about to shut the album off and return to it at a later date, when suddenly, I was greeted with a welcoming and familiar sound: tribal drums. Seems like the albums’s second song, Suspicious Minds, was the one I was waiting for. So, now I’ve got you wondering what Rusted Root actually did with Stereo Rodeo, right? Well, the alt-country assumption I made was partly correct, although most of the time, the band opt for slower ballads (which are surprisingly lovely) instead of hodowns. When they’re not working to that end, the band’s music has more of a southern Latin feel to it that made me recall Calexico, especially in Driving One and Two.

As a band, Rusted Root were always overshadowed by their contemporaries (contemporaries whom they’ve often rejected categorical association to). Dave Matthews Band sold more albums. OAR were hipper. Phish were more revered. But Rusted Root, for better or worse, survivied it all and were able to make an album as good as Stereo Rodeo some nineteen years after their inception. That’s something Mr. Matthews can’t lay claim to. But try not to think about it too much; let Stereo Rodeo do the talking, okay? Okay.

ST. VINCENT – Actor (2009)

I’m going to talk about Feist for a second here. Yes, Feist. You know. She’s Canadian. She did that 1234 song that everybody’s heard, even if they think they haven’t. And she released her third album, The Reminder, in 2007 – it’s good, but I didn’t get to absorb my copy that much, because once Annie Clark (who performs under the name of St. Vincent) released Marry Me a few months later, well, Feist kind of dropped off the radar for me. Now, at the time, I hadn’t seen any episodes of Arrested Development (a heinous act I’ve since rectified), so the title’s in-joke was lost on me, but the playful nature of Clark’s (Vincent’s?) songs weren’t. Needless to say, I anxiously awaited Actor, and I’m pleased to report that I enjoy it as much as its predecessor, even though it’s a bit of a different beast.

While Clark’s songwriting prowess remains the same, many of the songs on Actor carry with them a deep sonic punch. While the instrumentation is mostly light baroque pop, at times, Clark pushes these songs to the point wherein they sound as if they might overload the equipment they’re being played/relayed on (particularly with Black Rainbow and Marrow). Curiously (or perhaps not – your call), the densest example of this occurs on the album’s current single, Actor Out of Work, a song whose pulse threatens to boil over by the time its two minutes have ran its course; when Clark tones the electronics down a bit, her music is every bit as sweet as it was on Marry Me (the album closer The Sequel is as lovely a song as she’s ever penned).

Actor is an album with a broad appeal, mostly due to Clark’s ability to be playful without being condescendingly quirky. Of course, she’s really not doing that; she’s merely being herself. But regardless, if you want something to get 1234 out of your head, should you hear it sometime in the future, Actor should handle that job nicely.

AKRON/FAMILY – Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free (2009)

One thing about Akron/Family’s latest album is that you’re never at a loss for musical diversity when it’s playing. Many bands can run the musical gamut, but here, Akron/Family feel like they own it. Whereas their previous album were more moderate in their occasional indulgence of material that fell outside the freak-folk realm, the band show no such restraint here, and it’s gloriously wonderful. You want seismic tribal undulations? Check. Worldbeat pop stylings? Check. Krautrock pysch-outs? Check. Pastoral folk musings? Check. Explosive noise that threatens to turn itself into death metal? Check. And no, I’m not describing an Estradasphere album here, in case you were wondering. All this and more can be found on Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free, an album whose sound could possibly be replicated in an alternate dimension if you payed Animal Collective’s Feels, Devendra Banhart’s Cripple Crow, Circle’s Argont and The Dirty Projectors’ The Glad Fact in four stereos, Zaireeka-style.

Like many people, I came into contact with Akron/Family due to their association with all things Michael Gira (Young God Records, The Angels of Light, etc.), and while their music was enjoyable, it was never something I seemed to carry any more than a cursory interest in. But Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free is an album that’s so chock full of unhinged energy and boundless musical joy that it’s hard (for me, at least) to be anything less than devoted to it. I write this knowing full well that I possess an almost frightening affinity for music that’s warped and atypical, so if you’re not a fan of songs which defy categorization (or, for that matter, if you don’t know who Estradasphere are), you might want to consider these words with more than a few grains of salt.

Despite this, however, I think many people could still enjoy Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free on varying levels. It’s the kind of album that everyone could find a few things about it that they like, and then run with them (doing what they will with the rest). Are you one of those people? Well, there’s only one way to find out, now isn’t there?

BAD PHONE PICTURES – Opeth wsg. Enslaved

CONOR OBERST AND THE MYSTIC VALLEY BAND – Outer South (2009)

I’m still not entirely sure if Conor Oberst’s previous solo album (no, not a Bright Eyes release, an actual solo album bearing his actual name – bear in mind I’m disregarding Soundtrack To My Movie and Here’s To Special Treatment, on the grounds that if I can’t listen to them, then they’re not real) needed to exist or not (for more information as to my thoughts on solo albums, check out my review of Steven Wilson’s Insurgentes), but songs like Souled Out!!!, Lenders In The Temple and I Don’t Wanna Die (In A Hospital) were good enough for me to forgive the album of its metaphysical transgressions. I thought it would be awhile before we heard from Mr. Oberst again, but less than a year later, we have Outer South another album bearing his name (and the name of his backing ensemble, The Mystic Valley Band). But whereas last year’s Conor Oberst felt like a natural extension of where Bright Eyes were trying (and largely failed to) go with Cassadaga, Outer South is a messy anomaly, at once a paean to an America that’s trapped in the yellowed edges of dusty postcards (assuming it ever existed at all) and a straight-faced tribute parody-folksters The Folksmen from A Mighty Wind.

And yes, you did read that right.

Now, it’s easy to get hyperbolic when you feel passionately one way or the other about something, but I feel that my critiques on this album are quite founded (you may disagree, and that’s okay – to quote David Barry, “Everyone’s entitled to an opinion and yours is wrong”). Specifically: the music on Outer South doesn’t feel as though as it’s coming from the hearts and minds of the people playing it, and (worse yet) that the whole of the album is so drearily prosaic that the album’s few good songs (Difference In Time)and I Got The Reason) get swallowed up in a dustbowl of unshakable ennui. If that’s too hyperbolic for you, allow me to rephrase: the album is so lifeless that when it does show some faint signs of life, the only emotional response one can have is indifference.

There’s no denying that Conor Oberst is a talented musician, but his strengths lay in wresting narratives (sometimes personal, sometimes not) out from his soul and sickly crooning them with every last ounce of energy he has; when he does this consistently, he’s captivating (i.e, his materpiece: 2002’s Lifted), and when he doesn’t, the results can vary widely. If you want to listen to something in this vein this year, I’d recommend Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s Beware over this in a heartbeat.

ISIS – Wavering Radiant (2009)

In my review of Kylesa’s newest album, I pondered whether or not the album (an energetic but questionably memorable affair) would hold fast in my brain until the end of the year. Well, a little under two months later, the answer to that question is a resounding “no” – Isis have, with Wavering Radiant, deftly rendered Kylesa’s Static Tensions an unimportant record. I don’t really know why I’m surprised by this; few bands are as aurally commanding and hypnotic as Isis are. Since the release of the too-perfect-for-words Oceanic in 2002, Isis have been steadily forging forth a path that most metal bands couldn’t follow if their lives depended on it – and the time to make room in the pantheon for Wavering Radiant is now.

It’s a bit difficult to sum up Isis’ complex sound; the band share Neurosis’ love of nigh-impenetrable walls of guitar (and flame-soaked screaming), but whereas Neurosis’ music often leans towards the earthly, Isis fall more on the esoteric side of things (feel free to examine the ebb and flow of their thematic material if you don’t believe me). Musically, Wavering Radiant surpasses the band’s previous album In The Absence of Truth (which, although by no means a bad album, is a comparatively more low-key effort); songs like Hand of the Host and Threshold of Transformation pretty much dwarf everything else (metal-wise) that’s been released this year. The scary thing is that Wavering Radiant is made up entirely of songs that are of the same caliber.

Obviously, any self-respecting metal fan needs to get their hands on a copy of this, but if you’re at all familiar with bands like Mogwai, My Bloody Valentine (or, for that matter, anything on the Constellation roster), you’d do well to check this out, also. Wavering Radiant is the kind of album that revelatory potential is nearly limitless. That’s not something one comes across very often, and it’s certainly not something to ignore.

THE PROPHECY – Into The Light (2009)

When you’re dealing with a sub-genre that’s as labyrinthine as doom metal is, the first question one needs to ask i where, exactly, do The Prophecy fit into the doom spectrum? Do they deal in world funeral dirges like Skepticism, or do they fashion homicidal, resin-caked nightmares like Acid Bath? Do they invoke the apocalypse and all its glory, like Esoteric? Rattle the soul like Sunn O))? Worship a boundless stream of terminal gloom like My Dying Bride? Or do they do none of these things? If you answered “yes” to that last question, congratulations! Your ability to spot a band that mixes Morgion’s lacerating weight with the stripped-down sorrow of Anathema’s Judgement is extraordinarily commendable. Give yourself a pat on the back.

No, that’s not a typo. The Prophecy’s sound is really like that. It doesn’t sound as though it would work all that well on paper, but the band manage push their seemingly conflicting duality to near Opethian levels of greatness. The one thing holding the band back from such a revered metal plateau is that their lyrics are sometimes often too insipid be wrought through such wonderful compositions. Still, the music itself more than makes up for the lack of poetics; it’d be wrong to deny the beauty of songs like Echoes or Hope just because they contain prose that’s a bit pedestrian. I was a huge fan of Cloud Cult’s Feel Good Ghosts from last year, another album that possessed sub-par lyrics, but when you’re listening to music that’s capable of holding your interest in spite of its flaws, that’s when you know that you’re dealing with something special.

I previous cited the new My Dying Bride album earlier in this review, and I must say, I prefer Into The Light over it. Doom fans should definitely check this out. It’s the first unique approach to doom that I’ve heard in a good long while.