Mark Linkous is known  for his hauntingly beautiful and honest song writing. As leader of Sparklehorse, he recorded some of indie rock’s most intense, sincere, and heartfelt songs. News of his death hit the indie rock community pretty hard and different reactions by musicians were posted on various Web sites. I think Jesus Lizard bassist David Wm Sims summed it up best on his website (davidwmsims.wordpress.com) : “I was crushed to hear that Mark Linkous took his own life Saturday. I had the great honor of playing with Sparklehorse on a 1999 European tour. Mark was always kind and gracious and that tour will always be a highlight of my career.  His songs have a aching emotional intensity that still leave me gasping, the kind of songs that make you feel you’d been confided in, that someone has left themselves nakedly vulnerable to make you understand what they are trying to say. I love the way he sang, tuneful but free of unnecessary ornamentation. Our world is sadder and less beautiful without him.”

Mark had been struggling with depression for years, and in 1996 while touring with Radiohead, he rook a mixture of Valium and antidepressants and spent 14 hours lying unconscious in his hotel room. When the paramedics came to revive him, his legs had been pinned underneath him cutting off his circulation. When the paramedics straightened his legs, he went into cardiac arrest and was pronounced dead for two minutes before they were able to revive him. He spent the next six months in a wheelchair. He told Rolling Stone, “I was really scared that when I technically died – which I guess I did for a few minutes – that the part of my brain that allowed me to write songs would be damaged.” Luckily, it didn’t and he went on to write 1999′s Good Morning Spider during his recovery and 2001′s It’s a Wonderful Life. In the years after Wonderful Life, he sank into depression once again.“I got in a bad hole depression wise. I couldn’t get out for three years. I lost interest in recording. I still liked writing my little songs, singing them alone. But that was the end of it. I lost interest in recording them. I thought people didn’t care.” Eventually finding his way to the studio in 2006, he recorded Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain.

In 2009, he recorded an album with Danger Mouse, Dark Night of the Soul, a full-length album and illustrated book featuring photographs by David Lynch and guest vocals by the Flaming Lips, Iggy Pop, Frank Black, Vic Chestnutt, Scott Spillane, and many others. There have many legal disputes over the release of this album. Since 2009, the book has only been available with a blank CD because of legal disputes with Danger Mouse. However, it has been recently announced that it will be available by this summer. You can listen to the album now through NPR by going here.

Linkous was in the process of moving to Tennessee where he was to complete his nearly finished fifth Sparklehorse album. Although I have been excited by the news of a new Sparklehorse album, I’m afraid now it will be bittersweet. We can only hope to have one more small piece of Linkous’ poignant genius. I join his family in their sentiments posted on the Sparklehorse Web site, “We are thankful for his time with us and will hold him forever in our hearts. May his journey be peaceful, happy and free. There’s a heaven and there’s a star for you.”

May your shade be Sweet, Rest in Peace.

Dexter Romweber was part of the Flat Duo Jets, a rockabilly punk band from the late ’80s through the ’90s, and is regarded as one hell of a guitarist and writer. Working through some personal demons after the breakup of the Flats, he remained low key and almost forgotten. He has received some press in the last few year when artists, such as when Neko Case and Jack White cited him as being a heavy influence in their music in the documentary “Two Headed Cow.” This latest release, The Ruins of Berlin, pairs Dex with his sister Sarah, and while most of the album is covers, it also features some original compositions as well as duets with Cat Power, Neko Case, and Exene Cervenka from X.

The opening song on Berlin, “Lookout,” features Rick Miller from Southern Culture on the Skids and is about one of the best opening songs I’ve ever heard. It’s seriously a great fucking instrumental: rockabilly, surf, and a dash of some good ol’ ’50s soul. This song sets the bar pretty high, and I’m pretty excited about this spunky rockabilly surf album. I’m thinking it doesn’t get much better this. However, the rest album doesn’t quite live up to this expectation. I think the opener is a bit deceptive; most of the album is ballads and duets, which are not bad, but that opener really left me wanting more. Thankfully, wonderful little swinging up-tempo songs such as Romweber’s “Cigarette Party,” “Ruins of Berlin,” and “Picture of You” are sprinkled throughout the album. Still, these few songs don’t really satisfy my hunger for more.

This was really an album that had to sit with me awhile. I really had to listen to the songs separately and then together as a whole. “Lovers Gold” and “People,Places and Things” really grew on me. The duets are probably the albums weakest point, except “Still Around” with Neko Case. Pretty much anything she touches turns to gold, so that was no surprise.  The duet with Cat Power, “Love Letters,” really fell flat for me, which might be because I’m bored with Chan Marshall in general, but also because Romweber’s voice seems  a bit pushy on the track.  Most disappointing was the short and boring duet with Exene Cervenka on “Lonesome Train.” They both sounded offkey and I wondered why even bother with a duet with someone  like Exene on a such a short and repetitive song. Other songs such as Romweber’s “Grey Skies” feature his raspy voice that fits perfect with his rock-and-roots discorded guitar as he sings, “Well gray skies tear my heart out in disharmony.” The finale, “Is it too Late,” which is written and dedicated to Roy House who is another Chapel Hill musician, is perfectly done by Romwber. His voice is strong yet soft and twangy and is a great finale to Ruins.

I’m hoping on the next release that the Dex Romweber Duo will forget the duets and concentrate on their own songs. If Romweber’s own compositions on Ruins indicate anything, it’s that it could be one hell of an album. It seems though Romweber had fun on this album, and it’s nothing to thumb your nose at. I’m glad I gave it a chance. It’s actually a great vacation from all the ’80s-tinged indie rock I’ve been hearing lately.

Checkout Bloodshot Records here

Checkout Dex Romweber Duo here

Whenever I review an album of a band I’ve never heard, I do a little background check. This might be a bad idea because it may skew my view a little, especially when I read the words “composed” and  “video game soundtrack” as I did when looking up The Pragmatic. I got a bit apprehensive, and I thought, “I’m going to hate this.” Lately, I’ve  been getting sick of the whole “I’ve got a Mac and software and now I’m a musician” vein of music that seems to be flooding the market. Every bar I go into seems to have a little hipster boy pushing buttons on the expensive fucking computer mommy and daddy bought him (well, not every bar but you know what I mean). So, I’m still kinda shocked that I really enjoyed this EP.

Circles definitely has electronic drums, which in general I’m not the biggest fan. I like the warm variety you get with an actual set of drums with a live human being pounding away on them, call me old fashioned. The beats on this EP teeter on the edge of the ’80s love affair with the drum machine and almost rave-like  break beats, which just ends up making them addictive. I almost wait in anticipation to hear the seamless change-up on songs such as “Circles” and “Academy.”  The album is definitely full of  “look at all the noises I can make on my synths” video game sounds, which are  fun to listen to, but in the middle of the video game madness, they drop in unsuspected sounds like mariachi horns on “You Blame Me.” I can’t help but tell you that this album reminds me of the Postal Service (which I love). Karl Kling’s voice sounds a lot like Ben Gibbard’s, which should give me another reason to hate this release. As much as it can sound similar, The Pragmatics are not rip-off artists. This album is more dancey and more heavily reliant on glitchy electro pop, which just stops short of turning into dance music, especially on “Death Match.”

Circles has an ’80s sound. It can almost sound like a rave. The singer sounds a lot like another singer, and it’s obsessed with video game noises. As much as this album has elements that have made me cringe in the past, I can’t help but like it.  I dig the lyrics, beats, and yes even the video game sounds. It’s a fun album that has some depth.  I can’t wait to hear a full length from them.

You can download the full ep here, for free!

After my trip to Paris, I was turned on to Beirut by your lovely station manager, Xtine. She told me to watch Beirut’s concert à emporters (takeaway show on La Blogotheque). For months following our return from Paris, I had been haunted by memories and dreams of the City of Lights—as cheesy as it sounds, yearning to return was almost unbearable. Anything remotely related to France or Paris was my solace. When I watched Beirut’s video, I was immediately blown away by this French sounding music sung while walking down the streets of my beloved city.

Here was this skinny, baby-faced American with a voice as deep and mournful as Stephen Merritt’s from Magnetic Fields or Leonard Cohen. Walking next to an accordion player, the singer strolled the streets while the people outside the café’s and shops gathered around. Flugel horns, violins, guitars, an accordion, tambourines, and garbage cans doubling as a drum set made me weak in the knees. Ever since, every time I hear Beirut, there is a sense of nostalgia and a welling up of emotion in me. Whether it’s the connection to Paris or their beautiful music, I’ll never be able to tell but I’m always enchanted by them.

When I brought home the new Beirut record, March of the Zapotec/ Real People Holland, I put it on and eagerly waited to be taken somewhere: Oaxaca, Mexico. The first record—March of the Zapotec—did just that. I had long wondered what Oaxaca was like. When I was a 20-year-old law clerk in downtown Chicago, there was this wonderful Mexican place called Oaxaca. I used to go in there all the time and order enchiladas with mole sauce for lunch. I became so obsessed with the mole that I became a regular and started to make small talk with the owner. Being 20 and not knowing what Oaxaca meant, I asked and discovered that it is in the southern part of Mexico. With the walls of the restaurant covered in tapestries of beautiful Oaxaca and pictures of mountains high in the clouds, I was mesmerized by the idea of Oaxaca.

Listening to this album, I was immediately brought back to that 20-year-old law clerk with the dreams of going to Oaxaca. Full of Zapotec funeral songs, the album features the backing of the Zapotecan brass band The Jimenez Bros. and the deep crooning of Zac Condon. The song “La Llorona” (named after a Latin American fable about a woman who murders all her children and spends her afterlife searching and weeping for them) is throbbing with marching-band drums and a polka-like tuba supported by the wails of the trumpets. The wonderful howling trumpets and bleating tubas on “My Wife” sounded like a Southern ragtime band, but when the accordion comes in I’m back to my beloved France, which doesn’t last long when the song is finally thrown into a haunting, yet celebratory, waltz. “The Akara” starts off with a bevy of mournful horns, but the brightness of Condon’s ukulele breaks the sadness, leads us to a festive drum beat and then brings the mournful horns right back into the mix. It’s this mixture of brightness and darkness that Condon blends expertly through the mixture of diverse instruments. On the gloomy song “On a Bayonet,” he uses a bagpipe to heighten the song while still keeping it somber. This adds another layer of texture that elevates the song and gives it a more “real” and deeper feeling, far beyond the typical “here’s my sad song” track. Zapotec’s closer, “The Shrew,” is my favorite: the oompa-oompa tubas and vivid clarinets that lead to a flamenco inflected crescendo that is reminiscent of a bull fight. It makes me want to jump out of my chair and do the flamenco. It’s the perfect ending to Zapotec.

Recorded under Condon’s former moniker Real People, the second album is definitely a departure from the first record. Honestly, I’ve never heard anything that he’s recorded under Real People, so this record was a complete shock to me. I’m also not a fan of electronica. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, and a few of my exceptions are the electronic indie-pop Postal Service and the electro-dance weirdness of Mouse on Mars. I’m not sure if Real People’s Holland will be one of my exceptions. The first track, “My Night with the Prostitute from Marseille,” has a great title, a sunny melody and the most layered and harmonious vocals of any of his recording, which definitely has my attention; however, many of the songs are just much flatter than Beirut. They are completely different, but I think under Real People, he falls into the trap of becoming too repetitive with both the sounds and the beats. I’m convinced he does better with actual instruments. On “Concubine,” which is easily my favorite song on Holland, there is a mix of a pulsating accordion, soft marching-band drums, tinking toy piano, horns, and that distinctive croon that sounds surprisingly sunny. If the rest of Holland sounded like this, I would be more than pleased. That’s not to say the rest of the songs are a wash. Although the closing track, “No Dice,” is a bit repetitive and completely without vocals, it has a happy go lucky melody and Trainspotting-like beats. This is a good place for the album to end. If it had been any longer, I might have started to become annoyed.

I think Condon knows he had to introduce us Beirut fans slowly to this sound. I think this is why he gave us a little of both: a taste of the old Beirut and a taste of the new. I just hope this doesn’t mean a permanent hiatus from my beloved Beirut because if it is then I’m afraid Condon will have lost me; however, I will give anything that genius little head of his can create a listen. I could learn to like the Real People releases, but probably more as a novelty. The meat on the bone is his 19-person orchestral arrangements via Beirut. Whatever you do Mr. Condon, please don’t stop giving me Beirut albums. They placate my soul when I’m to broke or have no sick days to go on vacation.

Eats Darkness by Apostle of Hustle
Released by Arts & Crafts

Andrew Whiteman of Broken Social Scene formed Apostle of Hustle in 2001 after a two-month stay with family in Cuba. There he learned how to play the tres, a guitar-like instrument with three double strings. Upon his return home, fellow Broken Social Scene band mates Julian Brown and Dean Stone joined him and the Cuban-flavored indie rock sound of Apostle of Hustle was born. Sadly, it seems in the albums since their first release, Folkloric Feel, they have been moving farther away from this Latin inflection that made them noticeable. Their newest release, Eats Darkness, is their farthest move yet from the sounds that originally inspired Whiteman in Cuba. This album heads the band directly toward more straightforward indie rock tracks spliced with chaotic samples between songs and more experimentation with sounds and genres, making this album far more like an EP than a concise album.

There is nothing wrong with trying out a new direction. However, this album tries lots of different things, but too much at once, from blippy sounding “Eats Darkness” to the short sampled cut “What are you talking about” to the indie jam track “Soul Unwind” to the dub sounding track “Perfect fit” to the poppy cute rhyming “blackberry.” It isn’t all bad; some things definitely work better than others. It’s hard to tell exactly what does because there is just too much going on, and much of it seems more like an afterthought than well-crafted songs or concepts.

This is definitely an album I prefer to listen to in a mix of other songs. When I try to listen to this album in its entirety, it’s too much for me. It’s as if one song distracts me from the next and the short tracks with all the samples completely pull me from any point or concept this album is making. Apostle of Hustle hasn’t lost me altogether. I’m definitely curious as to where they will go from here. I just hope in the next record they have a direction that will be a little more worked out.

I feel like I start many of my reviews admitting I have never heard of this band until its current release. I happen to be reviewing, and well, here’s another one. Apparently, Gentleman Reg was formed in 2000 after Reg Vermue did stints with such bands as Broken Social Scene and Hidden Cameras, both of which I’ve listened to and enjoyed. I have never bothered to pay any attention to any of the musicians in these bands side or solo projects. After listening to Gentleman Reg’s latest release Jet Black, I wish I had discovered him must sooner. To think of all those concerts I missed, all I can do is paraphrase the famous words of Dude: That’s a bummer man. That’s me, always a day late and a dollar short. Luckily, I was in the right place at the right time to get Jet Black. It’s pop rock with spunk and the right amount of melancholy.

I’m not sure if it is Reg’s nasally sweet but sometimes husky voice or his direct lyrics, but most of this album comes off very sincere, but not in a sparse Sufan Steven’s way, but more like Bishop Allen. When I say most, I have one major exception, it is the song “We’re in a Thunderstorm.” It is too bland and sounds like something that was made for a Gap ad, especially with lyrics such as “gonna dress myself up and run around.” I wouldn’t be surprised if the music was in a commercial in the next few months. I’ll give Mr. Vermue a break because this is good record with plenty of interesting keys, drums, lyrics, and the occasional saxophone. Tracks such as the opener “Coastline,” “You can’t get it back,” the kick ass pop song “How we exit,” (why wasn’t this the first single?), the sweet and true “Falling Back” and the dirty closer “Rudy” stand out on this album.

His upbeat songs tend to be a bit more exciting that the slower songs. “To some it comes easy” is lower and more downhearted, but not sad-bastard slow. It has such a thick chorus that really keeps things interesting and sooner or later I’m singing along. Then there are tracks such as “Rewind,” which is the kind of song left better to Devendra Banhart or Leonard Cohen. Even with these small stumbles, Jet Black is fun album with plenty of catchy melodies, fun guitars and surprises to keep you on your toes and have you tapping your feet. I’ve been listening to an old Sound Opinions podcast, and this one is a buy it. If the lack of funds keeps you from getting this album, go burn it; it is definitely worth it.

Pick up Jet Black here!

When listening to Popup’s latest release, A Time and A Place, I found myself largely ignoring many of their songs. I’ll start to listen, but something else catches my attention or I just sort of drift off to space. Then all of a sudden, a rolling drumbeat would snap me back from wherever I had drifted off to. It’s not that it’s an altogether boring or mediocre album. It’s just that it vaguely sounds like many other bands, but it’s not without its own charm and sound. Maybe it’s just me, but for some reason I just can not focus on this album.

It starts with a pretty enough first song: a Joy Division sounding guitar backing the singer’s Scottish brogue (I’m a sucker for a brogue). However, it takes a while for the song to get where it’s going. After two minutes, I’m drifting, it’s not until  the five minute mark a loud crescendo reminiscent of Los Campesinos  reels me back in. The next song, “Poison Apple”, is one of the album’s strongest. I dig the chorus but find the “ooohhs” a bit annoying, much like on a post-Pinkerton Weezer album. The next few songs leave me disinterested, although the female vocals on “Stagecoach” provide a nice break. The slower songs on the album leave something to be desired and remind me of indie rock version of a Poison ballad. My finger is already hitting the “next” button.

Even though every song does not have to be an auditory assault, I find the album is at it’s most interesting when the Popup’s are playing faster and harder, such as on “Chinese Burn” or “What’s the Matter Now?”, or are building to a nice, loud end or chorus, such as on “Dreams Like These.” The lyrics on the faster songs seem to be more cutting and a bit cheeky. It’s on the slower songs where Popup’s major weaknesses show in the form of poor and repetitive lyrics. At best, the lyrics are innocuous. At worst, they are, well, plain terrible. On the song “Pure”, the lyrics include, “You’re purer than winter and you’re purer than the sun / you’re purer than that” and “you’re purer than wet.” These mundane and sophomoric attempts at bad coffeehouse poetry make me want to jam my ears with hot pokers. Harsh, I know. Still, it is that bad. No wonder I ignore this song and most of the band’s other slow songs.

For a first release, it’s not bad. There are good elements to build upon. The band is obviously fairly talented and they can create some solid songs. I hope in their follow-up release, they will stay away from the sappy songs, or at least, find some more perception, depth and creativity in their lyrics.

I’m a little conflicted on this review. It’s not a matter of whether or not I liked this album but a matter of how to review it. I love Pavement, so a reissue of one of their best albums, Brighten the Corners, The Nicene Ed (many critics argue it is their best) with a slew of unreleased songs, live versions, b-sides, and different versions of songs makes me like a kid in a candy store. These extras are what make this album so difficult to review because to a Pavement fan they are golden, but a listener that is not that familiar with Pavement might find this album a very long, and perhaps even tedious, listen.

The first disc is definitely worth the listen for both fans and new listeners. The first 12 songs are the original album tracks that have been remastered. I didn’t find these particularly better than the originals. In fact, at first listen I missed the original recordings but it’s the next eight songs that are the real stars. The first song, “And then the (Hexx),” is a longer and looser version and more playful than what ended up on their last album Terror Twilight. The next two tracks were previously unreleased. “Beautiful Butterfly” is a rare instrumental with melodic, jangly guitars. I think I could go for a whole album with that type of instrumental: interesting without turning into moody bullshit. “Cataracts” is a fun look at a song being worked out. The last five tracks are b-sides of singles released from the original. Standouts are “Westies can drum,” with a heavy little riff. The Spiral Stair sung “Winner of The.” I’m pretty much a sucker for anything the he sings on, and “Harness your Hopes,” the opening song of Terror Twilight, delights me every time I hear it.

The second disc is really more for hardcore Pavement fans. It is packed with live performances from the BBC and KCRW, some talking and working out problem areas in the middle songs, lyrics that have yet to be written are replaced with humming or lalala’s, and different versions of the same songs. It opens with “Slowly Typed,” a more rompin’ and stompin’ country rock version of “Typed Slowly.” It is definitely fun but not nearly as good as the album version. B-side “Wanna mess around” might become one of my top favorite Pavement songs, even though it is short at only 1:27. A nod to their earlier sound, it’s loud raucous fun. The cover of “Killing Moon” is the diamond in the rough of this whole reissue. I think it may well become a mix staple on all future mixes I make. Even the new to Pavement should at the very least download this track. The KCRW-recorded track “Neil Hagerty meets Jon Spencer in a non Alcoholic Bar” is as tongue in cheek and wild as the title of the song and is complete with screeching and wah-wah pedals. “Grave Architecture” is one of my favorite songs recorded in a John Peel session. It is a bit wild and silly with added vocals by Spiral Stairs and addition of what sounds like a clave.

As much as I love Pavement, there are a few songs that could have been left out here. “Roll with the Wind,” while a good song, is one I could have done without hearing twice. At times, I got a little bored with songs that sounded like they were recorded during a practice session. I thought during some exchanges, I could hear an underlying tension. Although, maybe that’s just me projecting later issues. It is bittersweet hearing the boys have fun going crazy on these extras. After the album is all said and done, it left me wishing this was another Pavement album instead of a reissue with extras. One thing is for sure, after all these years Pavement doesn’t sound dated to me. I think they would be right at home in the current music scene, and dare I say, still the indie darling jerks that I love so much. We will have to wait to see if that day will ever come. Until it does, I have this to refresh my memories.

For all of you who have not heard Pavement yet, start collecting their discography. Their wry quirky songs will not leave you disappointed.

After sitting my ass home last New Year’s eve, I decided that this year I had to do something, but what? I didn’t want to pay $100 to sit in some fucking ballroom with Lincoln Park wankers listening to some played out XRT bands from the early ’90s like Poi Dog or The Rembrandts or some other horseshit. I did not want to listen to another boring DJ pressing some buttons on his computer and watch hipsters shake their asses like it was something mind blowing. No, this year I wanted to ring in the New Year with something good, something real, and something loud. When I saw Jay Reatard was going to be playing the Empty Bottle, I knew this was exactly how I wanted to ring in the New Year.

After getting some drinks and staking out a spot right up front, we managed to catch most of the second band’s set: White Mystery, which is composed of sister Alex (singer/guitar) and brother Francis White (drums). They were sort of like the first garage band you ever played in: loud, not very good, and kinda boring, though not for lack of trying. While watching White Mystery play, I began to feel sort of a secondhand embarrassment for them, maybe because I had made eye contact with the singer/guitarist just after I sneered at one of their songs or maybe because everyone around me was just staring blankly at them as they played.

By the time they finished their set, it was just about midnight. Some Empty Bottle staffers passed out cheap champagne. We all screamed the midnight countdown, and Jay Reatard took the stage and started the 20+ song sonic assault.

I really had no idea what to expect. I had heard stories about Jay punching people out on stage, yelling at sound guys, and also being quiet and playing very fast through his set and getting off the stage even quicker. I’ve only recently discovered him and only have two albums: 2006 Blood Visions and 2008 Matador Singles. Even though Blood Visions is a bit more raw and punk, the Singles album is a bit more melodic, but still fast and fun. Where we going to get a violent and aggressive show, a fun melodic show or a show that was over as fast as it had began? What we ended with was one of the best shows I have seen in a long time. Though no actual physical violence took place, Reatard and his band attacked each song as if they were Caesar attacking the Gauls in order to expand the Roman Empire. Reatard and his Roman Army of bassist Stephen Pope and Drummer Billy Hayes conquered and claimed the stage for their own (I think I’ve been watching way to much Rome lately). By the end of show the proof of their exertion was in their sweat-soaked, blood-stained shirts.

As Billy Hayes, one of the best drummer’s I’ve ever seen, beat the drums of war and pushed Reatard and Pope to play faster and harder, the crowd whipped into an near frenzy-like state with people moshing and crowd surfing. I hadn’t been to a concert like that since I was about 19, but instead of feeling old, I felt as if I hadn’t aged a year. Just as I was thinking “how fucking amazing this all was” even as getting pushed and pulled and almost kicked in the head, I looked up on stage and saw Reatard take a leap. I ducked just in time as he flew right over my head: seriously I would have gotten knocked the fuck out if I hadn’t. Jay was surfing in the crowd, and I was a 19 year old in love with a sweaty red shoe rocker. Just like that he was gone, and Billy Hayes was ripping a band aid from his nipple and throwing the band aid into the crowd; my friend Pete got nailed in the head with it.