More polk-funk for the completely uninitiated. I guess I'm trying to set up a basic grouping of current, talked-about bands before I go into the obscurer stuff. So far I've touched on Against Me! (albeit not a folk-punk release of theirs), Defiance, Ohio, Ghost Mice, and... that might be it as far as my memory serves. Oh, I guess twoeyes did a Tim Barry/folk punk rant, too. Alright fine, I just came up with the idea to make this a progression into less familiar territory. Fuck you. Andrew Jackson Jihad are a two-piece guitar & stand-up bass band from Phoenix, Arizona with a penchant for ridiculous, satirical lyrics and making stoned college kids laugh. Their earliest work (Candy Cigarettes & Cap Guns, Issue Problems, and Only God Can Judge Me) is very sparse, but People Who Can Eat People Are The Luckiest People In The World saw them fill out their sound with lots of additional instruments, and 2009's Can't Maintain had them "bringing it all back home" (ie electrifying their sound). Fortunately for all their fans, the changes they've made over the years haven't spoiled their core values at all. These guys tend to appeal to people who actually hate folk punk, too. Or at least, they had a big audience on the Mitch Clem forum - a dreadful cauldron of hoodlums and villains that didn't really dig the whole off-key wailing 20 somethings scratching on an acoustic. While I dig all of their stuff in relatively equal measure, I find myself listening to their first EP more than anything else - hence the review. Issue Problems is basically a continuation of their debut LP, and is even more bare and rehearsal quality. It's only about 10 minutes long, and contains 6 songs, 5 of which were re-recorded for their second LP. The song "Powerplant" is the only one who got the boot, but still ended up snuggly on the split with Ghost Mice. The songs are all pretty simple, and apparently all recorded in one take, which lends it kind of a manic energy especially evident in whatshisname's warbly voice, spewing ridiculous, dark, and earnest lyrics in a way that's still somehow emotionally resonant. Maybe I just have a tendency to get "moved" too easily, though. Actually, there's really no maybe about it... "People" is definitely the highlight for me, which is just as paper airplane-simplistic as the rest of the tracks, but instantly accessible. I guess it's the joyous, realist view on how wonderfully, excitingly shitty everyone is that gets to me - a little more relateable than a first person account of slaughtering a family, for example.
If you're only familiar with the versions of these songs that were re-recorded and "beefed up" with additional instruments/tempos/etc, they might come across as a little barren and underwhelming. I don't really know how to remedy that, I guess, but for the record, I prefer them in this incarnate. The urgency and simplicity of these first takes is perfect, and the revisions seem to soften their impact. I think I'm in the minority, but give it a shot:
Alright, time to showcase some more folk punk that really doesn't need any additional attention. I've honestly been wanting to write up some reviews for Hail Seizures, The Taxpayers, Blackbird Raum, and Dandelion Junk Queens (among others), but fuck promoting unfairly ignored bands, let's talk about Ghost Mice.
So yeah, I'll be covering those bands later on.
Ghost Mice is a two piece acoustic unit composed of Chris Johnston (aka Chris Clavin) and Hannah Jones, who play guitar and violin, respectively. They were involved in a bunch of bands I've never really dug, such as Operation: Cliff Clavin, The Devil Is Electric, I Like Japanese Hardcore, and Disarm (who I've never actually heard), but decided to strip down to their folk side in 2002 and form this here 2-piece. Apparently, it was an effort to cast off the stressful bullshit intrinsic with a being tear-ass'ing rawk 'n' rowl demolition unit (ie: the need for a tour van, lugging heavy instruments and amps around, being dependent on gas and cash to spread their wares, etc...). Fortunately, they struck some gold with this decision, because... I like Ghost Mice but not those other bands, I guess. That wasn't very well said. If you have a low tolerance for the cliches floating around this recent influx of folk-punk bands, it'd probably be wise to stop reading now, because these two embody most of, if not all of them. They can definitely get cheesy, and the loud whine of the vocals can get sorta grating if you're not in the mood, but here's the thing: I've found that a lot of the bands I've made a really deep connection with over the years embody an earnesty that overcomes all the technical stuff. If it can seep through the clunky vocals, overstated crescendos, and lyrical obtuseness, I'll probably love it regardless of it's flaws. Anyway: Europe is a concept album that details the band's 3 month trip across it's continental namesake without much cash, planning, or solid contacts to choose from. Every song details their experiences in different countries (including two nautical ones) and all the hardships and beauty they witnessed along the way. I know that an album is typically something you focus on musically first, and lyrically second, but this is one of those rare exceptions. The music is catchy and enjoyable enough - the typical sweet acoustic strumming and violin stuff - lacking most of the uptempo punkiness of their earlier work, but acts like more of a backdrop to the story being told than a guide. There's definitely cohesion and prosody at work here, but the focus for me has always been the story - primarily due to the effect it had on me when I first heard it. It just has a mesmerizing way of interjecting it's plot driven structure with this warm imagery and focus on the freedom inherent with non-committal travel. I know how dopey a statement like this can come across, especially if you really can't stand this kind of music, but it really only took one listen to convince me to enact my own backpacking trip through Europe. Moreover, the tag-team with Defiance, Ohio's Share What Ya Got got me restless enough to quit my job and go traveling a year ago. Folk punk ruined my standard American existence.
http://www.mediafire.com/?n2udm5ojyyq
Here's something that made me smile last week: a new friend of mine was telling me about her 4 month stay in Europe, and how great the experience was, and I ended up responding with the same mock-able statement I made above. Oddly enough, she listened to this same album on the way back and apparently drew a ridiculous amount of similarities between her stay and Ghost Mice's. I guess there's not much more to this story, but I thought it was cool that this album helped kick off my wanderlust and found her at the end of the same journey.
Folk-punk is getting pretty big. I mean, it's a good direction for punk, but the sheer number of bands coming out is kinda overwhelming. Seems like every frontman of a band is picking up an acoustic, with the likes of Dave Hause (The Loved Ones), Frank Turner (Million Dead), Chuck Ragan (HWM), Jim Ward (At The Drive-In/Sparta), Brendan Kelly (Falcon/Larry Arms), Joe McMahon (Smoke or Fire) and Ben Nicols (Lucero). The list goes on and on. With so many dudes trading Les Pauls for Martins it's hard to keep track of all of 'em. A lot of the material coming out is just... boring. Frank Turner in particular is boring as all hell. I can't get into him just because his voice is too pristine and all of his songs just sound like a rehash of his earlier material. Lucero was great, but c'mon Ben Nichols, how many times are you gonna cover "Kiss The Bottle?" Nevermind Dave Hause, I have a hard time getting through the sea of cheese and forced country riffs of any Loved Ones album. Chuck Ragan for awhile was seemingly the only dude with a knack for this sort of music. I mean, Rumbleseat was fucking awesome. "Feast or Famine" was an amazing album, and even his tirades in Saw Wheel stand out as a cookie-cutter example of what other frontmen should be doing, instead of playing crappy, whiny low-fi acoustic songs with some country pull-offs and hammer-ons. Don't even get me started on the No Idea/Plan It-X bullshit too. I mean, Defiance, Ohio and Andrew Jackson Jihad are good, but Rosa, Ghost Mice? What the fuck is this crap. Spoonboy? The only good songs on "I Love You, This Is A Robbery" aren't even done by Spoonboy. Are you fucking kidding me, how do people listen to this garbage?
Then there is Tim Barry, the frontman from Avail. What needs to be said about Avail? They made "Over the James", "Satiate", "100 Times"... They are one of those cherished bands that, despite no longer being together, is still in constant rotation on playlists all over the world, withstanding the test of time. Although not so much in the Northeast, Avail is a thing of legend once you cross into Dixie country. Amongst so much crap, Tim Barry's solo stuff epitomizes what the crossover from punk to folk should be. Uncompromising, rough around the edges, and unabashedly honest, still maintaining the spirit of punk yet transitioning flawlessly from something like Avail to a stripped-down solo project that actually represents Americana folk music opposed to 90% of "folk-punk" musicians who are simply jumping on the bandwagon so to speak. Barry's music sounds like it's coming from a kid who grew up on the riverside and struggled his whole life, whereas Dave Hause sounds like a whiny doucher who happened to listen to some of his dad's old Buck Owens records in the suburbs of Chicago. If there is one thing that has not transferred from punk to this seemingly new sub-genre, it is most certainly sincerity.
Recommended listening:
Manchester - http://www.mediafire.com/?e0rmtnlzm0z
I have a weird relation to this band. Back in my second semester of college, my iPod met a chilly, moist fate in a local stream as I was gallivanting about the rocks and crevices. In retrospect, keeping your mp3 device in your unbuttoned chest pocket whilst performing a careening leap across a body of water is typically not the best method of conducting yourself. With one last note from Crimpshrine's "Can You Feel That", I found myself out 300 USDs, and far worse, unable to escape the blaring bullshit echoing around the interior of the commuter's bus to campus. Fortunately, my parents had forced a cell phone into my hands after many years of refusal, and it happened to be a trendy (at the time) Juke or whatever it's called, replete with mp3 features and a pair of headphones with earbuds unsuitable to the human ear. I got so many fucking headaches from those little malformed lumps of plastic. But anyway, that was around the point I discovered this album. I uploaded it to the low capacity phone alongside a handful of other albums I had downloaded long ago but never gotten around to listening to, sat down on the gross faux-leather seat, hit play, and instantly fell in love. It was one of those albums much like Nirvana's Bleach and Sebadoh's Bakesale that instantly captured my attention and led me to flog them brutally for several weeks straight. Unfortunately, just like those two albums, this one would meet a similar fate. I've found that whenever this sort of infatuation occurs, there are two possible outcomes:
1.) a life-long affair with the disc in question, where the listening rate diminishes, but never your affection or admiration, and you find yourself revisiting said album forever more 2.) you love the shit out it for a few weeks/months, then take a long break, revisit it and wonder what the fuck you ever saw in it in the first place
Unfortunately, only a few months after adding The Gaslight Anthem's Sink Or Swim to my top 20 list, I put it on one day and found that my every potential gripe had distilled and floated to the surface in my absence. All I could think of from that point on was "holy fuck are these guys a bunch of cheesedicks". The fact that I overlooked the sheer corniness of this band provided a true shock to the system, and I abandoned them for close to a year. Eventually, though, I gave them another chance with far lower expectations and found myself enjoying them again, in spite of the inherent overstated-ness. Lemme give you a bit of background before I go any further, though: The Gaslight Anthem are four piece from New Jersey who formed in '05 and play what could be described as either a pop punk approximation of Bruce Springsteen or something like "folk rock-punk". Being a fan of a handful of Springsteen albums (mostly Darkness On The Edge Of Town and Nebraska) and The Replacements (the other band these guys draw the most comparisons from), I was genuinely intrigued by this band's marrying of styles, and for a while, I wasn't let down in the slightest. Their sound is certainly likeable enough - basically "orgcore" styled pop punk developed into a more rock-orientation with elements of folk and Midwestern bar band antics. Sound good? It is... sort of. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of good songs on here, especially "1930", "I Coulda Been A Contender", and "I'da Called You Woody, Joe", it's just that once the initial sheen wears off, it's the corniness you have to contend with. Primarily, it's the prosody and lyrics here; Brian Fallon CANNOT POSSIBLY BE WRITING LYRICS LIKE THIS FROM THE HEART. I mean, look at this shit:
"And I spent time 'neath the trestles, With the punks and the dimestore saints. I kept faith and a switchblade tucked beneath my coat. And I ran with dirty angels, Slept out in the rain. We were scared and tired and barely seventeen."
"I'm broke and I'm hungry. I'm hard up and lonely, I've been dancing on this killing floor for years. And of the few things that I am certain, I'm the captain of my burden. I'm sorry doll, I could never stop the rain."
"Honey we came to dance with the girls with the stars in their eyes. Do the jump back Jack stop and slide to the right. Never break their hearts, Never make them cry, so come on. Strike up the band with a song that everybody knows. If I'm not your kind then don't tell a soul. I'm not the one who hates being alone, So come on."
I've heard that some of these songs are written from different perspectives, but how would you know that right off the bat? They're all sung in first person. Y'know how when Bruce sings about personal pain and Americana hoo-ha, it sounds somewhat believable and spoken from a wisened, believable, almost cynical standpoint? Well that mold isn't exactly open to anyone's muse. You can't just get some fresh faced 20-something kid with sailor tattoos and a chimney sweep's cap to sing stuff like this without sounding completely ridiculous. If you can somehow move past that, though, there are certainly goods to be had here, though. This album doesn't have a chance of ever landing in my "favorite albums list" again ("We're Getting A Divorce, You Keep The Diner", "Red In The Morning", and "Red At Night" are pretty disposable), but it's still worth a listen if you haven't had one already.
http://www.mediafire.com/?bssm9mx0yxx
My only other complaint is pretty unfair to throw out on this album, but wore these guys out for me nonetheless: after hearing the band's second album, The '59 Sound, it kinda dawned on me that these guys weren't really going to progress any further, and by stripping down their sound, they revealed how few ideas they really had. That album definitely has some songs worth hearing ("Meet Me By The River's Edge", "Miles Davis & The Cool", "Old White Lincoln", and "Great Expectations"), but half the songs almost sound identical, especially by the time each crescendo/bridge hits. Oh, and wait until you hear "Even Cowgirls Get The Blues". It's like being barraged by a meteor shower of hot, sloppy, shit.
My high school experience started off as a veritable maelstrom of inanity and social dis-grace, aided by the help of my trusty sidekick, "2 Preceding Years Of Enormous And Deforming Emotional Discomfort At The Mercy Of A Catholic School". It's pretty amazing how cloistered you become when trying unsuccessfully to gel with a classroom of tightly knit aggressors who've shared the same company (aside the odd yearly addition) since Kindergarten, and even worse, how long it takes to stand back up once the burden falls off your shoulders. Fortunately, by the time senior year rolled around, I was seemingly well-off and recovered, confident enough to pick up an internship for my art teacher, to befriend most of the people who piqued my interest, and even enough to be rejected by a small handful of lasses - in person, no less. I felt a false sense of security and knowing, like I went through the ropes early and somehow attained enough wisdom through it to carry a sense of superiority. It was a completely unconscious brand of smug douchebaggery.
The summer before that year, my friends and I went on a semi-sprawling road trip, finding our way from New York to Boston, to the Adirondacks and back home to NY, then to Virginia, North Carolina, and all the way up to Chicago before ending the pilgrimage in Pennsylvania for a 15 lb burger challenge. Along the way, my friend Ryan (who we picked up in NC after a 3 year separation) introduced me to folk-punk and the riot-folk movements happening as we spoke. He was pretty passionate about the bunch, and having gained a desire for musical expansion the following year, I was eager to give this stuff a try, and promptly scoured the web for all the free tuneage I could find. Admittedly, I wasn't completely blown away on first rotation. Mischief Brew wouldn't make a whole lot of sense until I'd made my way through a Tom Waits phase a year later, This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb struck me as inoffensive dullardry (and still do),and Ghost Mice grated on my nerves; Defiance, Ohio and Evan Greer on the other hand, settled nicely with the rest of my aural diet, which at the time was primarily noise rock, pop- and post-punk.
Not so long after, the shroud of familiarity got pulled away, graduation happened, and the bottom fell out. The aforementioned armchair nihilism and cynical brand of security began to give way to the disillusionment inherent in no longer having the immediate future mapped out and realizing how little I actually knew. Y'know, the typical ascent into "adulthood" paired with all the confusion reserved for kids who don't have the desire to get pinned down by a colossal fortress of college-related debt and fear the confines of the standard American life. I was slogging my way through community college and accruing more and more sludge for the sticky pile of isolationism in the back of my skull, and pretty soon after, I ended up randomly pulling out Defiance, Ohio's debut again to see whether it held up from the previous year. Upon listening, the lyrics pretty much hit me like a train. It was funny, because I remembered most of them from listening to Share What Ya Got in high school, but it was as if all their meaning was totally lost on me until that moment. It was the first time I really, truly related to what I was hearing since picking up Rites Of Spring's eponymous in 10th grade.
Defiance, Ohio are a DIY, 6-piece from Columbus, Ohio, and play acoustic primarily, employing not only the instruments standard to any punk release, but also a stand-up bass, cello, and violin. They started off by releasing their records for free online and other tiny labels, but have since moved to No Idea in order to accumulate enough l00tz tokeep their back catalog in print for dorks like me to fawn over while staring lovingly at the turntable. If I didn't make it obvious enough through the extremely long-winded intro, Share What Ya Got (their first full-length release) is a huge favorite of mine for reasons sentimental, musical, and lyrical (ie "the gamut"). It's by far their rawest, least self-conscious album, sounding like it was recorded strictly for free basement shows and rallies, but that's probably why I like it so much more than anything else they'd go on to do. It's pretty clear that no one in the band is exactly the virtuoso, but it's really their vibes that sell it for me. That's not to say the songs on here aren't catchy as hell and sing-a-long-able - in fact, that's probably what they're best for - it's just that the hopefulness and positivity seething through the somewhat frustrated lyrics manifests in much more than just what they're saying. The sparse, simple opener, "Hey Kathleen, Are You Hungry?" sets the tone of the entire album:
"Are you angry? Are you searching for a better life to lead? Are you waiting? Have you been waiting too long? What holds us back and how to burn the bridges to a culture that taught us to hate and fear and live like cogs in a machine and not like lovers, friends, and kin? How can you help but feel depressed? Get up in the morning and get dressed Look out the window through rush hour smog Smoke and drink the world away 'cause what the politicians say won't answer any of my questions like... Why am I angry? What am I searching for? Is there a better way to live? Why am I hopeless? Have I been waiting too long to strike back against this state of affairs?
Actually, writing them out, they seem kinda clunky. Sorry, it's a little difficult for me to imagine them without the melody and vocal strain's guidance. They're definitely more affective in action. Like something you'd sing around a campfire, almost. Lyrical concerns are probably the most inward leaning here, with lots of songs detailing feelings of entrapment in routine, desire to leave the ugly confinements we willingly affix ourselves to, and the alienation purported by a capitalist environment - stuff roiling in the pit of my stomach I couldn't quite articulate or put a name to. Unlike pretty much every release proceeding this one, there are none of those fantastic, anthemic songs that sound like they could be the highlight of the album before ending abruptly for no apparent reason. I don't know why this became a staple as their sound matured, but it's always a disappointing little present to unwrap whenever a new album comes out - like waiting with baited breath to rock out until the track's duration proves suitable.
If I had to list highlights, "Bikes And Bridges", "Response To Griot", "I'm Just Going To Leave" are probably my favorites, but there's not one bad song on here, or even any I skip over from time to time; it's an album I've taken in from first to last every time, uninterrupted, by some strange stroke of fate. This is of course, despite the fact that every track on here is permanently etched into my eardrums due to almost constant exposure; from that moment on the bus ride home from campus through the scream-a-longs in my friend's car and the late night/early morning bike rides around town with my headphones till now this has been one of my absolute favorite albums ever. It's just such an honest, simple kind of music, with everything sounding like a single take but somehow coalescing into something catchy, poppy, heartfelt, and without any ambitions beyond conveying a message. Give it a go?
If you suffered through this whole exhausting piece, you're a brave soul, since this might be the cheesiest mess I've penned since... actually never mind. I've written a shit-ton of godawful slop, so it's probably nowhere near a benchmark. Hopefully you'll never find most of it. If this actually made you wanna check this album out though, that's pretty much all I wanted to convey. These guys probably get a stronger reccomendation from me than almost anything I've posted here before if that means anything to you. Enjoy, and try to catch them live. I've only gotten to see them live twice, but the first time involved giving Theo a hug on stage, so needless to say, they're a good time.
I've talked about a lot of really obvious, popular, bands on here recently (Descendents, Lemuria, Minutemen, etc...), but what's one more? In the year 2011, the fans of Against Me! have become totally stratified by the band's musical progression - there's the assholes who bitch that Against Me! sold out, abandoned their values, and should be pariahs; then there are the assholes who gripe whenever an old Against Me! fan claims their new shit sucks, retorting that they're just afraid of progression, that Gabel would have never written another "Walking Is Still Honest" anyway, and that they're closed-minded for not boogieing to "Thrash Unreal". I kinda straddle the divider. Against Me! didn't take a crash course into commercialism (their slow progression over 3 albums as testimony), they just eased in and turned their back on their anarchist values in exchange for a more plush lifestyle. I can't say I don't understand the pressure to do so, but it's not exactly relateable. Of course, now they're just lame arena rock on Warner Bros, so it's hard to feel anything other than indifference at this point.
Anyway, this EP is the bridge between their raw, folky, first incarnation (Reinventing Axl Rose, the self-titled, Acoustic EP, and the brilliant Crime As Forgiven By) and their more rock/post-punk centric second phase (As The Eternal Cowboy, Searching For A Former Clarity), and is their first release not to contain any reworked tracks Tom wrote beforehand. The result is an unfortunately brief 3-track mash-up between the two aforementioned phases, and is easily one of the best items in their catalog. As The Eternal Cowboy is an album I like well enough, but it contains none of the scream-your-throat-raw, intensely emotional, anthemic heights that everything preceding it did. Disco Before The Breakdown sounds like what Against Me! could've been like if they kept these elements in their sound while progressing into a more rock-oriented unit... or at least, the first two songs do. The third is your typical, poorly recorded, acoustic solo track with Gabel doing his thing (which is great in it's own right), and each song's lyrics are really top notch.
We drank bottled water together and talked business. I think I played the right moves. You were lookin' over my shoulder, as I went through the motions of another night, And it was alright, 'cause I thought I knew who everybody was just by lookin' at them. My heart is anywhere but here, and how tired I was from the past couple of weeks, From the past couple of years. Well, it hit me all at once, On a balcony overlooking nothing, With snow falling all around, Well I, I called just to say "Goodnight". And you hadn't done anything wrong, And know, really, really, it's me not you. I can't believe how naive I was to think things could ever be so simple, And can you live with what you know about yourself, When you're all alone, behind closed doors? The things we never said, but we always knew were right there. It's got me on my knees in a bathroom, Praying to a God that I don't even believe in, "Well, dear Jesus, are you listening? If this is the one chance that really matters, Well, don't let me fuck this up. If you'd told me about all this when I was fifteen, I never would have believed it."
I can't stress enough though how un-fulfilling this EP can be. Not because it's full of dud notes or wasted space, but simply due to the lack of an accompanying 10 or 11 tracks. This is the kind of band Against Me! really should have "sold out" into - a super solid rock band with folk leanings and blistering vocals and anthemic, soaring, choruses. I'm always glad when I listen to this that I wasn't aware of these guys when this EP first surfaced, or I'd have been pretty damn let down by it's follow up (which is again, a decent album anyway).
More polk-funk for the completely uninitiated. I guess I'm trying to set up a basic grouping of current, talked-about bands before I go into the obscurer stuff. So far I've touched on Against Me! (albeit not a folk-punk release of theirs), Defiance, Ohio, Ghost Mice, and... that might be it as far as my memory serves. Oh, I guess twoeyes did a Tim Barry/folk punk rant, too. Alright fine, I just came up with the idea to make this a progression into less familiar territory. Fuck you.
