Explosions in the Sky ATP review

There’s been quite a lot of reviews popping up for this little festival that Explosions in the Sky were kind enough to curate, and whilst I know that The Silent Ballet will be bringing you lucky readers something rather special regarding ATP, I hope that this review can capture just how wonderful All Tomorrow’s Parties, as an experience, is. First off, let me make it clear that this was my first ever visit to ATP and actually, my first ever visit to a “proper” (one that wasn’t hippified and involving wicker men, but that’s another story…) festival. I’ve always been put off by the usual image of festivals, you know, wellingtons that are lost in a titanic amount of mud, tents being set on fire and toilet staff despairing at how unclean some festival goers are. Oh, and then there’s the bands, not being a fan of today's mass-manufactured Radio 1 cookie-cutter outfits, it can be difficult to find a festival you actually want to attend, but this is where ATP comes in. All Tomorrow’s Parties began in 2000, when a clever fellow named Barry Hogan decided to offer punters something different, a festival curated by alternative music luminaries such as Sonic Youth, Mogwai and, erm... Matt Groening. Eight years later, Explosions in the Sky have now stepped into the role of curators and in the festival passport, Explosions had this to say, “Some legendary bands have curated in the past. So if this is a school in which the aforementioned artists reside as professors and deans, then we are the janitors or maybe the basketball coaches. And if ATP is giving the janitors and coaches a chance to bring their mix tapes to life, well then it shows their real heart.” Expect to hear more from Explosions in the Sky about their new positions as curators later on, but for now, let’s talk about the festival.

Friday



Arriving on Friday night, I was quite worse for wear and not in the usual “I’ve had too much to drink” sense either. After an exam (not related to ATP, they haven’t started testing people or anything), a train journey of death (it was physically brutal) and an hour long ride from Taunton train station to Minehead containing a confused family who seemed to think Butlins was open for business and a child who couldn’t stop throwing up, I was at the end of my proverbial tether. When we finally arrived at Butlins, it was around seven o’clock, meaning that for a start we had missed Mono and due to the fact that we had to camp outside of the event (press passes don’t cover chalets, sadly) we would also be missing Dinosaur Jr. After setting up a tent in the rain, we decided to venture two miles down this hill back to Butlins. When we did, we were treated to a rousing set from Explosions in the Sky, albeit from half-way through. Playing compositions ranging from “Magic Hours” on How Strange, Innocence to “Memorial” from The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place, we were treated to a quasi- best of Explosions in the Sky, although I can’t see that hitting the shelves any time soon. Rather than venturing to the front and attempting to get into the then already closed photo-pit, we instead headed to Finnigans for some wonderful fish and chips, with beans and curry sauce might I add.



However, after wearily treading towards Reds (home of Butlins red coats, thus meaning all the artists in there were honorary red coats, sort of) we managed to get up close and personal with The Octopus Project, who performed a glitchy masterpiece-stroke-mess of electronics and instruments and terrorised fans with black bags full of balloons, which according to the band, they didn’t know would be so hard to open, more on that later, but for now, here’s some pictures from their extraordinary set:



At around 11pm, exhaustion hit us hard and rather than sticking around for Four Tet we decided to venture back to our tiny tent on the hill, I will admit, we gave up walking up that monster quite early on, and decided that rather than slipping down the hill and ending up on some BBC S.O.S programme talking about how our mobile phones saved us from a cow’s wrath, we caught a taxi. The taxi driver treated us to a story of how he was to pick up Jens Lekman on Saturday and how last year he had picked up Sonic Youth. At that point it really hit us how much of an impact All Tomorrow’s Parties must have on Minehead, for a few days a year this sleepy sea-side town is invaded by the likes of Kim Gordon and hip kids who genuinely enjoy guitars with screwdrivers, the sound of static and the like. Perhaps this is what makes Minehead such a great choice for a festival, for a start you’re not in the middle of nowhere complaining about the lack of phone signal and the thousands that flock to the event certainly inject money into the local businesses.

Saturday

Anyway, on rolls Saturday and due to reasons as yet unsaid, we sadly miss World’s End Girlfriend, who, if popular opinion is to be trusted, performed a set that will go down in musical history, I think one word describes our thoughts on missing this; “bugger”. We returned back to the “pavilion stage”, essentially a stage surrounded by, amongst other things, a Burger King, an amusement arcade and a fish and chip shop to catch A Hawk and A Hacksaw kicking things off. As pleasant as the trio were, I’ll have to admit I did find myself nodding off so we ventured over to catch Saul Williams do his thing on the centre stage, and my, did he keep us awake. Opening with a snarled soliloquy of name-dropping and buckets of “fuck you” attitude, Saul Williams and his band of robotic and cape wearing DJ’s, as well as a smartly attired guitarist, were possibly the most theatrical and terrifying act at ATP. Performing songs such as “Black Stacey”, which includes the lyrics “Even though I always told you not to brag about the fact that your great grandmother was raped by her slave master” and the chant “I’m too black” It was an amazing show, but the content was perhaps a bit too uncomfortable for some. Having only heard of Saul Williams due to his work with Trent Reznor and the album that caused a stir in the music industry, The Inevitable Rise And Liberation Of Niggy Tardust, for me he was one of the most surprising acts of the day.




After venturing off to acquire some interesting material for TSB, we returned to the centre stage to catch the rest of Ghostface Killah’s set, complete with various Wu-Tang members, including the chef himself, Raekwon. The highlight of this show for me, and others I’m sure, was the moment Ghostface invited attractive female members of the audience to dance with him onstage, only to launch into a rousing rendition of “Greedy Bitches”, I can assure you all now, that the irony there was not lost on anyone, and unsurprisingly, “Greedy Bitches” soon became the anthem of ATP, with yelps of it being heard constantly. The culmination of this was when one young man was chanting it, then suggested to the young ladies near him “I didn’t mean you, this is the problem with gangster rap you see, I’m off to stab someone later”, before wandering off into the melee of people again.



Taking a break from the constant barrage of noise our ears were receiving throughout the day, we decided to take a wander around the festival grounds and spotted Raekwon selling CD’s out of a plastic bag, Avey Tare of Animal Collective fame tucking into a burger, and Tyondai Braxton of Battles employing, who we presume to be his girlfriend, legs as machine guns and pretending to blow up his chalet. It’s moments like these when you realise how different ATP is when compared to other UK festivals like Reading and Leeds. When reading about how The Kooks went mad back stage and drank a whole shandy between them, you notice there is a real separation between the bands and the fans, apart from a forty-five minute live show, the two are kept apart at all times. At All Tomorrow’s Parties though, this idea is thrown out of the window, the bands mingle with the fans and vice versa, the only difference between the two that we could spot is that the bands get nicer chalets.


We soon returned back into the land of loud music though, and after watching Eluvium sound-check, we returned back to the pavilion area to soak-up The National tell us their stories of melancholic Americana. Having heard many of their recorded works, we wondered if their distinct lo-fi yet fully formed songs could translate on such a huge stage. Turns out, the very opposite was true. Brimming with intensity, Matt Berninger cut a figure that the influential Bruce “The Boss” Springsteen would have been proud of. Frantic violining and some of the weekend’s biggest crowd sing-a-longs accompanied a career spanning set; highlights included a furious “Mr. November” and a heartbreakingly solemn “Slow Show”.


After The National had finished plucking on our tender heart strings, it was time to watch Matthew Cooper aka Eluvium showcase his sounds for real and moving between material from Copia and An Accidental Memory in Case of Death amongst others, the audience were treated to again, what felt like a best-of selection. The only problem we could surmise with Cooper’s set was that it was on too late and that his textural brand of ambient sounds weren’t best received in the land of red coats, although he did inspire one woman to take up interpretive dance with her pint glass.




If Eluvium wasn’t enough to fulfil the needs of your ambient palette, Stars of the Lid soon followed at midnight, with a set that again, wasn’t suited to what the audience seemed to want. Stars of the Lid were aware of this, as they introduced themselves by saying “you all know who we are?” then following this with suggesting that they’re “a classic rock band”. It seems that the audience weren’t really fazed either way, with some then shouting “Pearl Jam!” as if in agreement. We stayed for around twenty minutes of their set, but with tiredness kicking in, a crowd that were perhaps too rowdy, alongside our fear of being left to walk the big hill in the dark, we retired back to our tent.



Sunday

Come Sunday morning we were up and about at an unnaturally early time, and envious of all the normal ATP visitors in their warm chalets and their freedom to get up around midday, as they don’t have to bring you readers something extra-special. So away we went, and while I can’t suggest just what it was we were doing yet, I can let you know that it will provide an interesting read. Heading back to the stuff I can tell you about, at five pm we settled down at the centre stage to watch Atlas Sound and hear his dreamy collages of sound. Bradford was joined by the now-duo Broadcast, and performed songs such as “River Card” and a cover of Broadcast’s “Corporeal”, with Trish Keegan taking lead vocals and Cox backing. What’s interesting about Cox is that, aside from an album release Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel and a string of EPs, the majority of his creations are made available online for free, meaning that like Saul Williams, he’s one of the first artists at this particular ATP to move against the traditional realms of releasing music.



After Atlas Sound came Animal Collective, a band that I seem to have a love/hate relationship with, but it was now an opportunity for Avey and co to make amends with me and I’m happy to say they did, playing a variety of songs ranging from “Essplode” on very early album Danse Manatee to “Fireworks” from 2007 effort Strawberry Jam and a whole set of tropical-themed, harmony filled pop songs which are tipped to appear on the collective’s next LP. The trio provided a much needed dancey atmosphere on that early Sunday evening, blurring the gaps between songs with beautiful transitions and early ‘90s rave-esque, dub influenced beats that made your nose hurt. The only problem with their set was the sound, which came across as a bit too distorted and after the dreamy loveliness of Atlas Sound, was a bit of a shock to the system.





Still, on we venture and around eight thirty we headed towards the pavilion stage, only to find that De La Soul were still going strong. After De La Soul finally left the stage, we did a brief bit of snooping at one of the few back stage areas of ATP, and noticed that Dinosaur Jr., complete with guitars, were in vivid discussion with Kevin Drew and Amy Millan. I was a bit uncertain of how well Broken Social Scene’s set would go, as I’m a huge fan of their work as a collective, but Kevin Drew’s album didn’t really do it for me. However, all worries were soon hushed when the band opened with a chaotic “7/4 Shoreline” with “the” Millan sharing vocal duties and spending her time rousing the already hyped-up audience This was soon followed by “KC Accidental” and once the audience were sufficiently pumped to the point of explosion, Kevin launched into his own material, which was surprisingly equally favourable. Soon after, the band introduced Explosions in the Sky, Dinosaur Jr, and Constantines on stage, to share vocals for Drew song “Back out on the…”, which for me, was the overall highlight of the festival. Some have described this set as a religious experience, or an emotional rollercoaster, but I’d stick with the idea that it was bloody marvellous.







After all that excitement, we felt it necessary to calm our nerves and relax, so we soon headed over to watch Robert Lowe, under the moniker Lichens perform. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from this set, as having heard Lowe’s albums I was aware that they were all (well, mostly) one-time improvisations, but how this would translate into a live show was a mystery to me. This mystery was soon solved, as Lowe carefully composed and layered an improvised piece to the point of perfection. Starting with what can be rudimentarily described as whistling into a microphone, then moving on to various guitar sounds and finally ending with other-worldly vocals, Lowe’s set was beautiful, and from my experiences earlier on in the day, if you think his music is hypnotic, you should hear him talk.



All Tomorrow’s Parties had so far been a monumental experience, probably one of the best of my life and exhaustion aside, nothing felt like it could go wrong, and not to sound over-dramatic, it did. After strolling out of the Centre stage, we were greeted with the mother of all queues for Battles, seriously: this was truly a “facepalm” moment, and when we realised the odds of us getting in to the show within the next hour were stacked against us, as the security had some wristband system that we weren’t a part of, we headed back to our tent, quite dismayed but still ecstatic about Broken Social Scene’s and Lichens set. It was only when we were at the top of the hill in our little tent that we could hear Battles, and we were even able to pick out what sounded like “Leyendecker” being played. Still, don’t let this deter you from attending ATP, the security and staff tried the best they could to get everyone in, and they did, just a lot later than planned. It was just a case of everyone wanting to see Battles at the same time, and really, who can blame them?

Originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com
Full Flickr set here.

Soulwire review

Soulwire - A Radiant Nothing review (originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)

Score: 4/10

Soulwire’s last.fm opens with a quote from the artist in question, Mr. Ken Hill. Hill submits that his “one-man project” aims to “to artistically interpret the life we live into shades of melancholic and introspective tones” - err, right. To take on such an endeavour seems particularly foolhardy, but Hill chooses his words carefully: he doesn’t promise to write an album about the economic factors involved in the U.K/U.S “credit-crunch” (if everyone else is namedropping it these days, I can too) or the war on terror (freedom isn’t free, et cetera). No, Ken is writing about the “life we live,” and after listening to A Radiant Nothing, he seems to live a tired, cluttered collage of a life. Even though Soulwire lends itself towards “introspection,” Hill does attempt to include the listener, even down to his use of “we” in this small quotation snagged from last.fm. The problem is, while Hill may be able to “introspectively” feast on the palette of sounds available on this album, it leaves the listener hungry for an actual theme, or main idea behind the compositions.

A Radiant Nothing is an odd work, one that is hard to pin down. Of course, this could be taken as a positive statement, but Hill’s work isn’t innovative, it’s just messy. The problem can be traced down to this; Hill shovels into the work every single idea or genre trademark he can think of, and not in a wonderful, “pomo” Atlas Sound way. Instead, the album moves between moments of Eluvium inspired, but tedious, chugging piano pieces, vague stabs at Grails-esque acoustic guitar moments and ends with what sounds like backing tracks for Natalie Imbruglia. The album does have its better points though: opener “A Radiant Nothing” and the immediate tracks that follow do have a certain charm about them, but they are nothing more than rehashes of tired ideas. The mix of piano, guitar and snare-heavy drums is pleasing to the ear, but nothing that you’d purposely go out of your way to hear.

Returning to Hill’s idea of “introspection” - the way that the majority of his compositions pass over the listener left me wondering whether the album would be suited for more meditative purposes, but A Radiant Nothing seems to fill the strange void between meditation and active listening. For a start, there’s too much in the record for it to fall into the former camp and relax the listener, but then again, there are barely any interesting ideas within the album for it to fall into the latter camp. Still, whether this worries Hill is another matter, as if he’s anything like his music, the life he lives is no doubt somewhere between meditation and activity. It’s a shame, however, that his listeners may diversify and lose out.

37500 Yens review

37500 Yens - Astero (originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)

Score: 3.5/10

37500 Yens are, to be brief, two blokes from France. To expand on this, 37500 Yens are comprised of two young men from Reims. Excuse the stereotyping now, but whenever I think of instrumentalists from France, I still think of the slightly dandyish but ever so arty image of Parisians Arca, you know, the two young men who are “inspired by music, cinema, literature, photographs, daily occidental sounds,” so imagine my surprise when I was met with the image of two metal-esque chaps, one even had dreadlocks, yes dreadlocks, like that fellow out of P.O.D, or Newton Faulkner, if you’re looking for a pop-friendly approach to the hair style.

Now, I usually refrain from embarking on linking seemingly “random” thoughts about a band to other bands. In fact, I do not think I have ever mentioned a band member’s hair in a review. This isn’t something I’m proud of, I’ll admit it, but all of this “filler” basically comes down to the fact that I don’t have much to say about 37500 Yens, and I’ve noticed that other reviewers have fallen into this trap as well. Admittedly, there is absolutely nothing wrong with their music, they’re clearly very talented young men, it’s just that Astero is inexplicably dull. Sure, it ticks the right boxes, if you like your math rock to have a heavy foundation (think Russian Circles) then you may be interested in hearing this, but the problem I have is this: it’d be far more fruitful to just slip a Russian Circles disc into your CD player (or CD drive, if that’s how you roll) than to really bother with this thing. I’m not suggesting that I dislike the record, parts of it are okay and it provides a decent mix of the aforementioned math-rock archetypes with elements of jazzy Acoustic Ladyland madness and even the intensity of At The Drive-In, but it is not a record I would specifically recommend to anyone, nor is it something I would listen to if I wasn't reviewing it. This does seem incredibly close-minded, I realize, that to deny listening to a piece of music may seem that I have a somewhat blinkered vision towards 37500 Yens and their style, but it’s just that their music could easily be heard on other, better records, by better artists.

The sheer amount of “I’s” I’ve employed in this review means I’m verging (there we go again) on making this piece more about myself than the French duo I’m attempting to write and I admit I’ve failed in taking a rather French point of view in this album -- I think it was Baudelaire who suggested that “the man of the world” is an ‘I’ with an insatiable interest with the ‘non-I’, I’m paraphrasing here, but anyway. Rather than closing this review with a witty remark about how 37500 yens is a real bargain for what this duo are offering, I will just leave you with this; if you feel you disagree with my comments, you may well be right, if you really feel the urge to check this record out then do it and if a friend informs you that 37500 Yens are the greatest band they have ever heard, take what they say with a pinch of salt, just as you should do with my opinion.

65Daysofstatic review

65daysofstatic - The Distant and Mechanised Glow of Eastern European Dance Parties (originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)

Score: 7.5/10

Like most correspondence in our epoch, the news of 65daysofstatic’s fascination with Eastern European dance parties broke through e-mail. A rather oddly worded note from Iryna Berliawsky was sent out members of the Sheffield foursome's mailing list, containing the following utterances:

“I have been to CEE both nights now, even if this cold must grow always like a great fist… they have broken through a new dance hall in the old train tunnels without his help…Spring soon I count, and then we will have a party like before, and dance, dance, dance.”

It soon emerged that Iryna was actually a central figure in an Eastern European themed ARG (alternate reality game) that players followed over the space of four months, which led onto, amongst other things, a do it yourself remix of 65dos’ The Distant & Mechanised Glow Of Eastern European Dance Parties title track “Dance Parties” (the remix can still be found here). Some may already be familiar with 65dos’ previous dabblings with “Dance Parties,” the track from which the EP takes its title appeared on 2007’s The Destruction of Small Ideas and retrospectively, it now seems obvious that the group would have wished to expand on this “stand-out” (as colleague Alex Bradshaw termed it last year) track.

The EP sees the group “creating a 16 strong choir from their own under rehearsed voices” on opening track “Dance Parties [Distant],” which due to the dominant use of synth and enthralling closing chant; “All hold on the day is young/All wake up the future’s here/The schools all closed/The roads are clear” makes this variation on a theme an explosive high-point of the record. The EP includes a second re-working of the dance party variety in the form of “Dance Parties [Mechanised].” This song develops into a heavier rave-rendition, featuring the electronic undercurrent of the track now fighting eagerly with the more noticeable guitar section and stuttering drum beats. The closing sample of the song which observes that “the radio stations are afraid of this stuff” even seems to be a subtle reference to Mogwai’s “Punk Rock” from the seminal Come On Die Young.

Interestingly, the connotations between the dance party theme and the last two tracks on the EP are not as evident. Although “Goodbye, 2007” often acts as a prelude to “Dance Parties” in the live setting, here the order is rearranged. Unlike the plethora of new directions previously heard on the EP, the aforementioned effort harks back to Fall of Math-era compositions. This slight moment of recession can be easily forgiven though, partly because of the wealth of new material the listener is offered with both variations of “Dance Parties” and also due to album closer “Antique Hyper Mall,” which is quite possibly one of the most down-tempo and laid back efforts the group have created.

As 65dos’ Eastern European ARG escapades came to a close, players were treated to an essay on music, life, and social networking from wily protagonist Oscar Thompson. Thompson submitted that what society needed was a “LAST DANCE, the actual culmination of an entire history of fights and parties…One final underground movement before the entire fucking concept is swallowed up by this My-fucking-space-based hegemony and commodifying of an alternative idea of how we are supposed to live”. Whether 65dos are now set on changing the world with their music is uncertain, but The Distant & Mechanised Glow Of Eastern European Dance Parties seems a fine place to start.

Jess Lipworth review

Jess Lipworth - Meandering Through (originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)

Score: 3/10

Part of Jess Lipworth’s “blurb” on MySpace reads “more spaces less clutter.” Whether he just really digs Feng-Shui room arrangements is yet to be seen, but his sentiments about “space” seem to permeate through his debut album, Meandering Through. The album is a collection of beats, glitches, and field noises, which, I’ll be honest, seems to induce lethargy upon listening. Lipworth’s record label, VU-US is also home to Library Tapes side-project Forestflies, and the parallels between the two are uncanny. Like Forestflies, this album “stretches thin,” in fact, and it’s one of the few records that, after listening to it thoroughly over the past few weeks, I find it hard to remember what actually happens in it.

The beats appear to be recycled liberally, as while browsing Lipworth’s MysSpace and listening to “The Bird Sanctuary,” I was amazed to find that the track in question was actually far more interesting than I remembered it to be. I was soon disheartened when I realised I was playing two tracks at once. “The Bird Sanctuary” played in perfect time with Lipworth’s 'new' track on Myspace, “Summer Storm [edit].” Of course, this could just be coincidence, but if the beats are, as I suspect, at least similar, it hardly grants the listener with either change and to be honest, insulting, that this record barely develops from the following elements: slow ambience, glitchy beats, “meandering” synth noises, another layer of drum beats, “melodic” breakdowns, and occasionally Lipworth will employ a sample (though bear in mind when this happens, it won’t really add much to the music, it’s more of a case of “Oh, here’s a pointless sample”).

I will resist the urge to end that list with “Profit!”, because to be frank, neither the listener nor Lipworth can gain from this regurgitation of same-old ideas. Lipworth influences include Boards of Canada and Prefuse 73, obviously it isn’t fair on Lipworth if I compare him to these luminaries, but let’s pretend I’m a heartless, unfair reviewer (no doubt Lipworth fans will already think I am, but bear with me). Prefuse 73’s 2003 “outtakes” album, Extinguished: Outtakes, provides a far more fruitful listen, and considering the album is almost a collage of scrappy ideas, not all of which were worked into the final record, One Word Extinguisher, if Lipworth is really influenced by Herren, he should already know that innovation is key, as opposed to repetitive and droll beats with the odd sample thrown in. However, if this idea has really passed him by, as Meandering Through suggests, I’ll reiterate it here:

No one likes a bore.

After several listens of Lipworth’s album, I’ve come away thinking that Henri Bergson was right when he proposed the idea of “durée,” as I feel like I have wasted a good chunk of my life on this record, when in actuality I’ve probably only wasted a few hours. Although I don’t intentionally mean to insult Lipworth, or anyone that enjoys his music, I genuinely can’t see anything of interest in this album; it’s dull, drippy, dire and any other words you can think of that begin with “d” and suggest boredom.

Eaten by Tigers review

Eaten by Tigers - Solstice (Originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)

Score: 7/10

Eaten By Tigers' debut EP, 2007’s Entropy, scored rather favourably with The Silent Ballet last year. As an assurance that said EP is “really good,” the only criticism reviewer, James Ould, could offer up was that “During each track a concurrent melody is played throughout that almost acts as the missing vocals… it’s this method that could cause tedium on a longer time span.” Having been handed EBT's 2008 release, Solstice, I hope to evaluate whether the band has progressed musically and if Ould’s concerns of tediousness are beginning to show in the sophomore release. So, let’s carry on and avoid the usual introduction of basic biography, as to reiterate my point about The Silent Ballet’s readership skills on the internet; I’m sure you know you how to use the search button if you really, really want to know Eaten by Tigers' backstory.

So, how does Solstice differ to Entropy? Well, for a start the tracks are no longer as fleeting. The EP opens with a definite starting point, aptly named “Prelude,” which encompasses Eno ambience and glitchy beats; on first listen, it’s not dissimilar to cLOUDDEAD album opener “Apt. A, Pt.1.” The transition between “Prelude” and “Solstice” is seamless, and when compared to Entropy, the EP functions a lot less like a collection of demos and more like a regimented and solid piece. The addition of vocals is welcome, with Ould’s criticism seemingly quelled as both “Prelude” and “Solstice” feature hushed utterances. However, the quartet seem to slip back into old habits with third track “Reflections at 40,000 Ft.” While I can’t fault this composition in terms of its clear display of musical skill, it feels like a pale revival of ideas already executed in Entropy. Thankfully, EP closer “Dedicious” hints that Eaten By Tigers can progress even further, with an excellent ensemble of those glitchy computer noises everyone seems to love, acoustic guitar, and violin.

I’m sure you’ve all been holding your breath waiting to hear Solstice to see if Ould’s premonition of tediousness may be correct, so hopefully I can put an end to your sleepless nights, irritable behaviour, and general on-edge lifestyle by letting you know that Solstice does not slip into tedium. Eaten by Tigers have clearly upped their creative output, and they have offered the listener an exquisite array of sounds specifically suited to sooth your worried palette. Worry not, reader, Eaten by Tigers are obviously improving all the time.

Morr Music review

Morr Music - A Number of Small Things (originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)

Score: 7/10

Morr Music are clearly in the mood for celebrating. Six years from the creation of their offshoot label, A Number of Small Things, which specializes in seven inch releases, comes this compilation, a chronological compact disc release of the great (and not so great) artists that they have let loose on vinyl. The record features a plethora of artists, ranging from established acts such as Styrofoam to smaller ones such as Butcher the Bar, which leads rather nicely into a discussion on the first few tracks on the record, the latter artist’s 2007 tracks “Get Away” and “Leave this Town”.

Butcher the Bar, although a rather obscure artist, is unquestionably the strongest way to open this compilation, so it is lucky that he’s also the most recent artist to be released on the label. “Get Away” hammers out a perky Death Cab for Cutie styled tune, which although sounds like quite a bleak description, really sets the trend for the rest of the record. With vocals that aren’t as nasally as Ben Gibbard’s and a hushed guitar, “Get Away” features thoughtful lyrics such as “I may be over-reacting… but I swear this town is dead” and a Bob Dylan harmonica outro. All in all, it’s lovely stuff.

The compilation then follows with Benni Hemm Hemm who seamlessly fuse an interesting array of horns with an equally upbeat and energetic chorus. The track “Aldrei” is a sentimental work of delicately strummed guitar and gentle horns, with vocal duties handed to Jens Lekman. Benni Hemm Hemm also appear later on the record, but you can’t help but feel that this is to combat the slump the listener feels after working through the bland alt-country efforts of Mash Qrella.

Covers pop up across the compilation. Seavault re-work “Mercy Seat” by Ultra Vivid Scene, but it’s their cover of “I Could be Happy” by Altered Images that really makes an impact on the listener. Seavault excellently deconstruct the song and come off with something that’s a lot more melancholic and shoegaze than the original. Seabear also offer up an interesting re-working of a classic, with their rambling rendition of The Undertones’ “Teenage Kicks.”

Electric President and John Yoko/Lali Puna occupy the last section of part one of this compilation, but instead of tempting the listener with songs that will make them continue to part two, both bands offer up lacklustre efforts. Ben Cooper, lead singer of Electric President, has described his vocal style as “an intimate, slightly nasal vocal style that vaguely recalls Gibbard,” furthermore, “Electric President actually contains a modest number of moping moments, the duo is more interested in generating an elephantine roar.” Unlike Butcher the Bar, who professes to being an artist who “carves out vibes in my bedroom,” Electric President give themselves too much credit. The songs meander, have no real presence or force to them, and, as opposed to similarities to The Postal Service or Death Cab, they sound more like Wheetus. In “Good Ol’ Boys,” Cooper warbles that “music in my head never sounded right on paper/I’ll write myself a note and turn that note into a song,” which is a fair estimation of how Electric President sound; scrappy, half-completed pop songs. Not much can be said about John Yoko/Lali Puna either, they offer up twee and sickly-sweet pop songs in the vein of Rilo Kiley and Stars, but, excuse this crude statement; without all the good bits.

So, that was part one, as we’re working backwards, we’re now approaching earlier releases from the label, hopefully they’ll be as many gems as part one, but from the efforts of Electric President and John Yoko, they suggest a definite slide in standards.

Sadly, Populous open part two with their dreary Stars styled song “Breathes th Best,” with Torquil vocals and uncanny yet inferior similarities in composition. However, their second effort “Bon Bon Pour Les Rappers” adds something new to the mix, it’s a Gonzales-esque, wholly instrumental track and it definitely makes a refreshing change from their earlier contribution.

The peak of part two comes in the form of B. Fleischmann, who contributes four tracks to the compilation. “Frisky He Said” offers some welcome depth and melancholy (trust me, after all that twee, even noise is welcome) that compliments the earlier effort of Seavault.

Styrofoam are probably one of the most recognizable names on the record, which is no doubt down to their excessive output of remixes. Unsurprisingly, the two tracks that feature on this compilation are exactly what you’d expect from them; ethereal slices of electronica with eerily echoed vocals, essentially, it sounds like a lot of “E” (pun intended).

Now just a brief word about the two artists that close the compilation (excluding B. Fleischmann who’s already had his praises thoroughly sung): Team Forest and Other People’s Children offer up indie-electronica love songs, and chances are you’re thinking “that genre sounds familiar.” Instead of name-checking Ben Gibbard again (whoops), I’ll just leave you to fill in the gaps.

So, at the end of all of that, I’m sure you’re wondering whether this compilation is worth the CD it’s imprinted on. Well, although A Number of Small Things clearly started with an infatuation for all things cute and Gibbard, they have definitely provided the listener with an array of cross-genre listens in 2007. The compilation allows the listener a glimpse at both this label’s and Morr Music’s history, what they like and even their own influences, they have also allowed us to take a look at their weaker points and certain things that need refining (clue: more Icelandic acts, less moping young men). This is a record definitely worth listening to, as judging from their 2006-07 output, the label’s future is certainly looking bright, even if they do have a bit of a checkered past.

Not to Reason Why review

Not to Reason Why - Who Wants Flowers When They're Dead? (Originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)

Score: 6/10

Not to Reason Why hail from California. Now, please resist the urge to yell “Caaaallliforniaaa” (a la The O.C) as they are not from the Orange County (home of perfect tans and apparently, rich teenagers handy with guns who seem to love mopey Imogen Heap tunes), they are actually based in Petaluma. Now that we have that pop culture reference out of the way, I can tell you all about their EP, Who Wants Flowers When They’re Dead?. A rather ambiguous title (do they mean dead flowers or dead folks?) fitting for a band that consciously genre hop and would definitely not cause Ryan and Seth to get their groove on.

The group seem to be fond of clear cut timing, but instead of taking the usual Don Caballero/Battles route and channeling this into a creation of math-rock intensity, they slow things down and instead create an EP that effortlessly weaves between instruments and styles. Ample examples of this are the tracks “Mightiest Monster In All Creation Ravaging A Universe For Love” and “1.21 JiggaWatts!?” with the latter including pulsing melodic piano repetition which provides the backdrop for Explosions in The Sky-esque guitar reverb. Although this EP does draw upon the staples of instrumental rock, it also packs in plenty of unique moments, such as the rather ineffable (basically, problematic for me to describe) drums that crash and soar throughout the record; in short, the percussion is along the lines of the drumming of Hangedup, if it were a little bassier and less claustrophobic.

Moving between moments of ambience and clattering reverb-heavy climaxes, the quartet have created an EP that packs quite a punch. With six tracks totaling in at 30 minutes in total, the EP contains fair amount of material to work through, and although a sizable portion of it seems to be a nod to the usual names within instrumental music, there is enough here to suggest that Not to Reason Why may provide us with something more imaginative next time around.

Nicker Hill Orchestra review

Nicker Hill Orchestra - If? Or Fades? (Originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)



Score: 6/10

Ironically, Nicker Hill Orchestra’s “About me” section on everyone’s (now second, curse you, Facebook) favorite social networking website reads as the following: “Where are we today? Somewhere near our future.” A fair statement when you realize that reviewers such as myself are only now catching on about them. Anyway, let’s get descriptive and figure out what this EP is all about.

Well, for a start, NHO are able to produce strong EP’s, with If? Or Fades? clocking in at 25 minutes. However, if you’re looking for a concept record, this probably isn’t the best place to start. The record packs in an uncompromising amount of style, shifting between vocals, math-rock influenced guitar, and Born into Trouble… era twang, essentially, if variety isn’t for you, don’t go for this EP. If you are interested in a band that can, quite clearly, expand and invoke so many styles in 25 minutes, this is definitely one worth checking out. In my opinion, it’s hard to pick one particular stand-out track, these are songs don’t need to be played all at once or in any specific order, they each have their own merits. “May Kiss, Gold Tongue” moves between aforementioned Silver Mt. Zion guitar to a rather perky angular guitar and bass section, finally ending on Kevin Drew styled vocal repetition, all in seven minutes. I’m sure you’ll agree that’s not bad work for their first EP.

My apologies dear reader, it’s 2008 and I’m already suggesting you should reminisce and revisit music from 2007, a particularly tricky task as most now look forward to albums yet to leak before their release date. I can only apologize again, but when it comes to Nicker Hill Orchestra, I suggest you revisit days gone by, after all, you could even pretend it hasn’t been released yet, if that’ll make you feel better.

Element Kuuda review

Element Kuuda - Le Village (originally posted at www.thesilentballet.com)

Score: 6.5/10

Element Kuuda hails from Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Now, due to the almost brainwashing effect that phrase has on people, I imagine you’re now more interested in Element Kuuda then if I would have instead said, “Element Kuuda hails from Pontypool, Wales.” This presents a problem; Montreal transmits this idea of it being an ethereal, ineffable, all in all breathtaking home of music. It’s the place where a Godspeed member owns a club, the place where there’s that recording studio (or slum, depends on how you look at it really), it’s even the home of Efrim Menuch’s lovely little beard, plus, let us not forget the alt-rat-pack that resides there, with the likes of Wolf Parade and Arcade Fire often mentioned in the same breath as Montreal. Anyway, you can see the problem here, I’m guilty of it myself, Montreal shoots out musicians people tend to love and until Pontypool (or anywhere else for that matter) picks up the pace, we’re inclined to think everything Montreal produces is great.

Of course, the flip side of this is we are all the more dismissive of an act that doesn’t live up to the geographical hype. If it isn’t as choir-esque, poetic, and all around mystical as the granddaddies of Montreal, we (or at least I, if you’re still in the Montreal-loving-closet) tend to ignore, criticize, and attempt to deflate the poor musician’s ego. This isn’t fair, we don’t judge Pontypool musicians by the standards set by Pontypool, so why judge Montreal folk by their residence? Before we end up unraveling that question, let’s get back to the point of this prose; I am reviewing Element Kuuda, this is what I think of it: it is an enjoyable listen. Now, allow me to expand on this.

Element Kuuda’s EP, Le Village is a five track effort, released by Magnanimous Records in 2007. It is now 2008, you may think that Le Village is now passed its prime; this would be incorrect. The reason I’ve been leaving this review on the side is not simply a matter of laziness. Unlike his Montreal counterparts (I know, I am comparing him after all, whoops), Element Kuuda, or Christian Richer as he’s known by day, does not make winter themed albums. Le Village sounds like a bicycle ride on a spring day; it’s promising, uplifting, and there’s not a Church organ in sight. The first track “Extrait : La Trache” is perhaps not the best choice to either open with or even include on the EP -- imagine Matmos and the lighter (if there is one) side of Svarte Greiner getting together for two and a half minutes -- although this sounds like an interesting mix-up, it doesn’t fit with the rest of the EP, which is much more centered around a Colleen and Mom style use of samples and acoustic instruments.

Le Village is over rather quickly, with its total time running up to around fifteen minutes. If you’re looking for depth in this cold season (if you’re experiencing the cold, that is) then perhaps it isn’t the best record to try out, instead, why not wait till spring, when its fleeting, but interesting composition will suit that season perfectly.

Oh, please don’t hold your breath about an answer to my previous question; it’s very, very unlikely you’ll get one.