Be(a)ware of the Dodo's

About a year ago I had the unfortunate luck to have my main musical proprietor (namely, my boyfriend at the time) perpetually give me the first half of albums. What can you expect when you trust AIM file share program to work when your computer is asleep. Moving along, I tell you this to explain why this review is for only slightly more than half of The Dodo's "Beware of The Maniacs". In fact, it only occurred to me this morning that I was listening to half the album, all that has made it onto my iPod. But in the interest of time, let's just call this an indie EP for the shy and move on with in.

Just as with any work put out by The Dodo's, the melancholy lyrics are hidden by the perky Appalachian steel guitar. In combination with the trashcan drums and single octave keyboard this album (or rather "EP", excuse me) delivers a self righteous journey through a young man life and everything that hurt him there. The use of 30 second intros that don't match the rather static instrumentals that follow serve to keep you guessing through the album (as far as memorizing order is concerned) and highlight the melodic vocals of bashful singer Meric Long. Somewhere between San Francisco's fog and pavement The Dodo's found bluegrass and humidity to call home and launched a successful career as faux-folk music. Faux only in the sense of displacement from their musical roots and the fact that they list "vibraphone" as one of their instruments.

My personal favorite is the terrorist inspired lyrics of the "Horney Hippies":

We were walking down the block when we thought the bomb went off and our hearts nearly stopped at the sound/ When we look and we found that it some other crowd I was glad it wasn't us, yeah, I was proud.

Perhaps it's just my 8th grade sentiment for The Postal Service's "We Will Become Silhouettes", but there's nothing more love inducing than surviving nuclear warfare. The song goes on to describe the disaster that is the institute of marriage and encourage anyone with a thread of decency and self respect to "stay in your home".

So what did I learn from this album: Boys and girls are different and girls will inevitably break your heart. And that I should beware of the maniacs.

Hear Horney Hippies here:
04 Horny Hippies by user8259628

Even Neon Love Fades

Dial tones and Boy George inspired vocals have their place in the world, and that place is on Cut Copy's 2004 album "Bright Like Neon Love." My feelings on this album are less bright like neon and more powder blue like the sheets in your first apartment, where you waited for phone calls that never came. I get it, Dan Whitford, you and your girl had something, and you're convinced you might never have it with anyone else, but even so - 12 songs abotu it seems to be boardering on over kill.

But lets start with the good stuff. The album kicks off with easily it's best song, "Time Stands Still", which is four and half minutes of simple yet rich tones laced with dreamy vocals. I like to imagine vocalist Dan Whitford strung out on tissues and day time television, dragged by his goodwilled crew neck ("Canton Little Leauge, 1998") to a Austin club for a show, rocking back and forth on his heels, simultaneously pushing his bangs out of his eyes and pressing the keys of his cassio. Mostly I like to imagine this because someday I, and every girl who's ever broken your heart, wants to have the dreamy album written in her wake. Back to the music: electropop at it's simplest, four notes reconfigured, enough rhythm for an Australian discotech, with a healthy dose of fade synths.

The album goes south with the fourth song "Saturday [reprise]" which is where it first becomes evident that this album was not made only for some girl in leather boots and work shirt dresses, but to feed the ego of the boy who lost her. A minute and a half reprise for a song only two minutes longer, instead of one five minute song is just silly, especially when you consider that the song is really only twenty seconds looped and the reprise is virtually identically to the original. Even sillier though, is "DD-5" a 26 second transition between songs.

I use the word "silly" because these things aren't necessarily bad, they just are purposeful goofs on the bands part. When you keep in mind that Cut Copy didn't set out to remake Marvin Gaye's "Here, My Dear" and you take "Bright Like Neon Love" for what it is- a menagerie of post-punk keyboard riffs - it's not bad. Not bad at all. Let it play through and it walks you down memory lane and leaves you with a sort of refreshed feeling and the slightest desire to maybe fall in love. That is, if you remember that even neon love will be bleached out by all your morning time park dates and flashbulb photographs.

Song to come soon!

LMFAO, FTWish

In a lot of ways this album is like herpes: Infectious, obnoxious, and most likely found on the dance floor of a south miami club. Or maybe, with the amount of 80's inspired checkered sneakers and bushy hair this due rocks, it is more analegous to glitter. Whichever blows your skirt up. And, ladies, this album will attempt to blow your skirt up. With enough shout outs to the women's posteriors to make Sir Mix-A-Lot blush and enough ciroc to keep you and everyone within a ten foot radius silly drunk, this album smashes - about 50% of the time. While the constant drunken choruses make you feel like you're involved in something special, make sure you're within reaching distance of the speaker system, because theres a lot of skip on LMFAO's "Party Rock."

I have a hard time deciphering between weather the two cousins that form LMFAO, Redfoo and Sky Blu, are just two bros with a sense of humor and a garage band expansion pack, or if they are marketing geniuses. Keeping in mind that they are both related to the founder of Motown Records Berry Gordy (R. is his son and B. is his nephew) I think its a fantastic combination of the two. The two gems on the record, "I'm in Miami Bitch" and "Shots", have identical construction and yet both over ride my white girl sense of propriety and have me asking "where are all my alcoholics at?" and trying to get girls drunk enough to suck my...well, you get the point. And the greatest part at all- these boys have no idea what a euphemism is! They lay it all out, plain and simple and ready to go. Love it or leave it, but if you love it remember that it wont be there when you wake up in the morning looking for two aspirins and a cigarette.

Outside of these two songs, there are a handful of other singles that deserve their chance to be spun, but here in lies the problem: LMFAO are hit makers, not album worthy artist (although their grammy nom begs to differ). This album has too many duds to be listen to cohesively, let alone played for the 50 minutes that it is. Songs like "Get Crazy" which encourage girls that "if you wanna have fun than do something crazzzy, like flash yo tities" are fine and dandy, but the over use of high pitched synthesizers grates after about thirty seconds.

Feminists, recovering alcoholics, and the upper middle class beware - the high points of this album will make you want to abandon your morals, if only for three and a half minutes. But with a video as simple and unashamed as "Shots" - how could you not want to party rock?

Listen to I'm In Miami Bitch (like you haven't heard it already.)

Hey Champ, here's your victory march.

Occasionally you come across a mashup of two or three songs that seem to go together so well you wonder if they aren't, in fact, from the same song. And then, very rarely, you come across a DJ who can make this occasion happen again and again, and compile them all into one beautiful mix. And on an even rarer occasion said DJ will put the album out for free! Sasquach and Nessie stand asides, we have our new wonder on hand.

Heavy with 1970's disco sentimentality, but kept light with pop and rap tunes of the last few years, this album manages to an entirely listenable dance record. One of the highlights of the album, "Little Secrets", features 2009s most bloggable band, Passion Pit. Now, while I have been decidedly reserved about Passion Pit and I don't mean my bias to over ride this tracks potential; chanting children went out with MGMT's 2008 track "Kids". Asides from the fact that the playground chorus should have been left on the original track, Michael Angelakos' space aged soprano helps set the Saturday Night Fever mood for the rest of the album. While this vibe continues through out, a touch more versatility would have been appreciate. After several rounds it almost seems like they stripped a bunch of songs down and added the same back beat to eat of them.

The mix features two guest DJ tracks, Only Children and Raw Man. It is shocking how these two remixes of Hey Champs songs blend into the album. Listened to cohesively I would bet against even the most trained ear to pick out the guest DJs. My favorite tid bit about this album is the lyrical transition from victory marches to songs about girls that think their shit don't stink. Highlighted by Mike Posner's vocal description of a girl who "probably thinks she's cooler" than every one around her; "You need every one's eyes just to feel seen/ Girl, your so vein, you probably think that this song is about you." Perhaps I'm reading into it too much, but I can't help but imagine the progression of this album as the following:

"Good morning fine ass girl who I've never met before. We should fall in love and I'll remix a bunch of songs about it."
"I agree. Now, fetch me my chai tea latte. Half fat."
"Awah?"

Regardless of the monotony, when the sound being repeated is this good there will be swiveling. So, plan on having this album blasting at your next beer pong game - victory dances will ensue.

Now: Download the whole album for free!

Rawrrawr riot!

Rhumb Line (n):
-1 an imaginary line on the earth's surface cutting all meridians at the same angle, used as the standard method of plotting a ship's course on a chart.
-2 any of the 32 points of the compass.
-3 Ra Ra Riot's only album; indie rock touched on by a Korg board, violin, and Broadway musical sentiment.

Some day I'm going to go off the the big city, dress all in black with red lipstick, dance all night and sleep all day, the usual. But then my favorite lover will bring me back to his home town and we'll live in the house he grew up in and have wednesday night dinners and thursday night cocktails with all our friends who followed us home. Soon enough the whole town will be taken over by the forever young and beautiful. Between spilled red wine and pregnancy yoga we'll all become parents of beautifully brunette children with matching, thick, eyelashes. We'll push up our wire framed glasses and smooth away their (naturally) disheveled hair to read them Saderis and Hornby, just so the girls will be heart breakers and the boys will let them. When we have time between Safi's hip hop recitals and Jermiah's art opening at the community center, we'll attend town meetings. And this is how our home town anthem will become "St Peter's Day Festival" from Ra Ra Riots 2008 album, The Rhumb Line.

So, this is normally where one might expect a little analysis, some comparison, perhaps even an allusion or two to side projects (hold on! There is one coming in a bit!) - but, I ran into the bizarre problem of realizing this is the most impossible song to broadcast in the whole world! For being featured on a band's only album, it is certainly pretending to be a b-side rarity saved for some "High Fidelity" type situation. In-uploadable to grooveshark, sound cloud, non existent on youtube and last.fm; Ladies and Gents, I tried really hard but inevitably these boys have made it impossible to spread their love. So, thusly, why waste time talking about a song you'll never hear? Why tantalize you with real content when you'll never be able to formulate your own opinion? Frankly, I would be doing you a disservice to continue talking about a song that speaks for itself, if ever heard.

And so, faithful readers, I instead leave you with a nice tid bit and an enjoyable cover: Ra Ra Riot's Wes Miles teamed up with Vampire Weekend's Rostam Batmanglij in the electo duet known as Discovery. On their self titled LP they covered Ra Ra Riot's "Can You Tell?" (re-christened "Can You Discover?" haha, hoho).

So to salvage this less than musical post, I leave you with Ra Ra Riot on Ra Ra Riot

Bombay Bicycle Club Taking Over My Life

Kite flying and daisy chains finally have a soundtrack. Somewhere between the steel drum and the lyrics every girl and boy wants to be written about them, this became my favorite album of the winter time. Not that it hasn't be around for long enough (release date July '09), but as all albums it takes time to float to the top of my flashdrive pile. The album starts off strong in a soft sort of way with easy chord progressions synthed up by an armature, but as soon as the lofty intros cut out the sentiment of three note swings along with the musical equivalent of a warm breeze more then make up for it. Although the second half of the album drags a bit (tracks such as "Autumn" give you the sense that maybe love isn't really worth it), any fan of artful simplicity will be happy to listen all the way through.

The cover art, shot in the english equivalent to Prospect Park, speaks for the album. Throw someone above a crowd and they are king, they run the world, they are in love and they are happy. However, let them fall and they are wrecked, staying in relationships for comfort, sleep deprived and just "inches above the dust on the ground."

Something about the way Jack Steadman, lead vocalist, always sounds like he's about to break out into tears and bass lines worthy of the types of european parties you always hear about where boys dance and girls all ware backless dresses makes this album worthy of repeat. In the end, I now have completely unrelastic expectations that some boy with love me desperately enough that he will be "willing to owe [me] anything." I guess for now I'll just have to keep at the single "Evening/Morning" which I had the music fans unfortunate incident of declaring my favorite song on the album only to discover it to be the single.

Listen here