That's My Dad.

Touché Amoré - Parting the Sea Between Brightness and Me

Touché Amoré’s “Parting the Sea Between Brightness and Me” is what post-hardcore perfection sounds like. Polished with bold production value and picturesquely decorated with stygian visual lyricism, it’s impossible to deny the sheer skill and dazzling contrast Amoré bring to the table artistically. They’ve mastered their style and sound from their gritty debut album, “…To the Beat of a Dead Horse” and perfectly evolved as a band, making “Parting the Sea” an immaculate listen. These moments in music come few and far between, but “Parting the Sea” is a record that demands your attention, shocks you to the core and will stick with you, regardless of musical preference. (10/10)

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The Avett Brothers - Emotionalism

In retrospect, The Avett Brothers’ “Emotionalism” is a different flavor of their trademark bluegrass-gone-indie folk style; more of the embarrassingly honest, unapologetic and cutesy type. While “Emotionalism” comes speckled with gems of poesy and basks with irrefutable sentiment, this fourteen-song set feels bloated from a few loose, unnecessary lyrical points, causing what could have been a classic album to fall short. (8/10)

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OFF! - OFF!

I think this entire review will suffice with the fact that OFF! is led by frontman Keith Morris of bands Black Flag and the Circle Jerks, both classic 80’s-90’s Californian hardcore punk bands. With that in the back of your mind, everything else practically falls in place. OFF! is dedicated exclusively to showcase Morris artistically and personally, with each of the sixteen tracks vigorously focused on one quick creative idea floating about Morris’s head. Like Black Flag and Circle Jerks, OFF! is beaming with the trademark music style of its own genre. The killer vocals and raging instrumentals literally scream east coast punk throwback. At a run-time of a mere fifteen minutes, a straight listen through OFF! will knock the life out of you with its relentless rabble-rousing and ageless aggression. With his efforts on OFF! at age 56, Morris just might be the ultimate face of hardcore music: the chaos will go on as long as it needs to, never aging or dying out. (9/10)

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Phantogram - Nightlife

With a set of six tracks flowing with dozens of ideas, Phantogram’s EP “Nightlife” serves as an engaging spin-off sequel to their debut LP, “Eyelid Movies”, with the same intoxicating rhythm-based electronic dream pop signature formula Phantogram fans love. (7/10)

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Spiritualized - Sweet Heart Sweet Light

With its razor sharp level of emotional control and silky smooth sonic production, Spiritualized’s 7th LP “Sweet Heart Sweet Light” succeeds not only in creating a set of brilliant, catchy tunes, but also as one of the most determined, developed pieces of audio art seen in quite some time. There was no moment of revelation. Nor was there a taint of favoritism. It was a clear cut critical evaluation: “Sweet Heart Sweet Light” is the best indie rock release of 2012. (10/10)

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Best Coast - The Only Place

If you aren’t listening to Best Coast on a California beach or at a weed-ridden summer music festival, you’re doing it wrong. And their much-awaited second LP, “The Only Place”, is a serious testimony to that theory.

Lead singer/guitarist Bethany Cosentino has grown to be a cult figure in the contemporary indie rock scene for her warm, enchanting sun-dried tunes on the group’s debut LP, “Crazy for You”. With her overly simple yet gratifying lyricism, Cosentino ended up capitalizing on a specific demographic within the indie crowd of similar emotional proportions, becoming something of a small-time goddess for distraught post-modern youngsters. The real catch, however, was if Cosentino’s lyrics were taken out and placed in a less interesting surrounding, it would match the lyrical quality of ‘Top 40’ pop fodder.

It seems that Best Coast doesn’t have much to progress or evolve from considering their music succeeds exclusively their ability to emulate a certain place and feeling, as an organic product of their own environment. But the golden thread to their music comes from sheer artistic and human honesty, which is the only thing “The Only Place” has going for itself. It’s clear that Costantino has cleaned up her act: she’s off the couch, she doesn’t seem to be constantly smoking pot and her romantic affairs aren’t constituted by desperation and sweet-heartedness. Hence, her sound has changed accordingly. Gone is the lo-fi surf rock warmth and eagerness, instead “The Only Place” is like the sonic equivalent of a gross overcast over a formerly gorgeous beach. Best Coast’s change of direction managed to kill both of their best birds with the one proverbial stone: their lyricism and it’s musical context.

“The Only Place” won’t particularly offend or reveal any hidden layers, despite any number of listens. It’s a pretty superficial record. And even if Best Coast’s fan base will slightly disperse from this creative transition, they can’t be criticized for striving to make mature music. It was fundamentally inescapable for Best Coast to do an album like this right because it’s a new feeling for both artist and listener. So whether you’ll root for Consentino to start smoking again or to polish her sound up in her new, seasoned adulthood, at least we’ll still have those younger, brighter days.

This album was my senile grandmother. (5/10)

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Two Door Cinema Club - Tourist History

“Tourist History” is a snappy pop record that throws a bit of pixie dust at your face to compensate for the fact it’s really simplistic. It’s not something you end up hating Two Door Cinema Club for, I mean, their choruses stick around your brainwaves like leeches and they wear their European presence on their sleeve; instant love for some, right? “Tourist History” falls next to the likes of Foals and Phoenix and make for great indie pop mix-tape material, but aside that notion, “Tourist History” is the ‘flavor of the week’ pop album that you’ll certainly forget about, not matter how infatuated you get. (7/10)

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Santigold - Master of My Make-Believe

Four years ago, Santi White, better known as Santigold, set the bar for pop music for the music industry, especially herself.

Her debut record, “Santogold”, featured not just several of its year’s greatest tracks (“L.E.S. Artistes”, “Shove It”) but shed light on the line between mainstream and indie pop. White fit both molds, using creative freedom associated with indie music and the resources of a mainstream release. Looking back, “Santogold” still holds a place in my heart for making some of the most irresistible pop tunes without having to get weird (i.e. M.I.A., Lady Gaga).

Despite previous efforts, there wasn’t specifically any tension for her latest album: “Master of My Make-Believe”. As far as anybody was concerned, listeners were well aware of her creative standards. Looking her track record, there couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with any of White’s future work. Yet, “Master of My Make-Believe” succumbs to the worst complaint pop music could get: it’s boring.

Astonishingly so, “Master of My Make-Believe” barely rises to the occasion of its agenda and, frankly, lacks any sincere artistic efforts. It’s not that this LP has anything sour or tracks that stick out like sore thumbs, “Master of My Make-Believe” barely throws any hooks or punches that calling it a ‘snore-fest’ wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate. Four years ago, Santigold would walk in your door and kick-start the party into one of the best nights of your summer. Here in 2012 and Santi’s in the corner of the party with a red cup at hand, not particularly interested in socializing.

I can’t even get excited for the lead tracks: “Go!” and “Disparate Youth”. Despite their positive reception, all I’m left doing for three to four minutes is looking for something to impress me with. The weight of this album gets worse as songs begin clumping together; nothing prominent grabbing my attention or inspiring repeated listens. I wouldn’t be as indifferent or saddened had “Master of My Make-Believe” came from a newcomer artist, but this was freaking Santigold. All we’ve received is a lousy excuse of the same ingredients in “Santogold”, minus any trace of inventiveness. Here is an album destined to be bullied into the dusty corners of record stores and ignored during its week of shelf-time at Best Buy.

This album was not my dad. (3/10)

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The Flaming Lips - The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends

I spent $70 for a copy of “The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends”. This exclusive, diabolically demanded Record Store Day release on vinyl. I was enamored. This was the most expensive piece of music I’d ever bought. And at that point, I hadn’t even listened to it. 

The Flaming Lips are a group of psychedelic/noise/indie rock veterans who’ve done everything from cover Pink Floyd’s “The Dark Side of the Moon” to — well you can’t really top that if you’re a psychedelic group. Through three decades of wildly ground-breaking and charming experimental rock music, it could be argued The Flaming Lips are this generation’s biggest and finest psychedelia voice. “The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends” is the group’s 14th album and, unabashedly, the collaborative album to invade every indie rocker’s wet dream. Musical guests include Ke$ha, Biz Markie, Bon Iver, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Yoko Ono, Neon Indian, Chris Martin of Coldplay and I’m only halfway through. 

There’s only one feasible way to define all thirteen sprawling tracks of the album. This is what it’d sound like if a dozen or so artists dropped acid and got trapped in a fun-house crawling with manic serial killers. With this in mind, “The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends” is conceptually hilarious. The Flaming Lips navigate each featured artist through the sheer sonic madness they’ve invented, then observing how they respond the high-voltage psychedelia. On the ear-splitting opener “2012 (You Must Be Upgraded)”, featuring Ke$ha and Biz Markie, it’s like The Flaming Lips created a room in their fun-house where daggers are being shot out of the walls and anything you touch will electrocute you to a morbid death; then we see Ke$ha, her drunken swagger and all, completely kick its ass and leaving the room without a scratch on her.

Each track here is really nervous. It’s part of what makes “Heady Fwends” such an enjoyable and exciting experience; these collaborations are built to satisfy and impress, not just a piece of novelty fodder that seemed great on paper but lack ambition in the studio. The Flaming Lips having a reputation of enforcing that too; working with such a group isn’t simple. They understand what their featured artists have to offer and then instruct them to keep up on the tightrope they tread on together. Tracks like “Ashes in the Air” with Bon Iver or “That Ain’t My Trip” featuring My Morning Jacket’s Jim James are something The Flaming Lips would put out anyways, but with the Midas touch of outside artists that make for something a new flavor of psychedelic noise rock. 

“The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends” is a loaded album, even for a steep $70, there isn’t a void left to be filled: my funds did not go to waste. The riveting level of color and detail seems like it spans galaxies within 70 minutes of run-time. It saddens me to think a mere 10,000 set of hands will be able to enjoy this gem on it’s original and intended format, but regardless of vinyl, “The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends” is a knock-your-socks-off LP ready to be loved by those ready for a fun-house on acid experience. 

This album was my dad. (10/10) 

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Battles - Dross Glop

Read My Full Review on ‘Listen Before You Buy’

Along comes the remix baby brother: “Dross Glop”, a compilation album based off math rock maestros Battles’ acclaimed 2011 album “Gloss Drop”. “Dross Glop” has been meticulously growing a certain level of hype with a series of 12’’ vinyls coming out this year and a killer line-up of technically superior producers behind it all. We’re talking Shabazz Palaces, Hudson Mohawke, The Field, Gang Gang Dance; everyone and their mother is on this compilation, given you’re in the scene to appreciate artists mainly for their technical ability. […]

(7/10)

Norah Jones - Little Broken Hearts

It kind of sucks that Norah Jones consistently remains overshadowed by the success of her 2002 Grammy-winning debut jazz masterpiece: “Come Away With Me.” Hard to think but a whole decade has past and Norah has come out four albums, each of which successfully collected dust on the shelves of every Starbucks and Barnes & Noble nationwide. This is not to say Norah, post-2002, took a nosedive and started making atrocious music; it’s just that she seemed to be the only person who thought moving away from jazz was remotely a good idea. Since then, she’s quietly transcended into a more down-tempo pop style that lacked any repeat value and served as a textbook example of sub-par art.

Alas, let bygones be bygones, it’s 2012 and she’s here with her 5th album: “Little Broken Hearts,” a full-fledged singer-songwriter based pop album that makes no apologies about it’s identity. Produced by the marvelous Danger Mouse and heavily echoing the style of their previous collaboration on the album “Rome,” it’s clear Norah’s given her blandish efforts a much needed kick in the head. “Little Broken Hearts” is not “Come Away From Me” however; far from it really. This is a mild, dark and bitter record that requires your attention for it’s charm to come near. Each track comes packed with a catchy, honey-sweet hook, retro-pop sounds and a new element or texture to Norah’s voice; features that win you over, shooing away clouds of past negative proclivities about Norah. ”Little Broken Hearts” might not leave much of a heavy impression like Norah’s previous three albums, but it’s nice to see her fully realized in her new directions; call it a glimmer of hope in a former legend. (7/10)

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Deerhunter - Halycon Digest

There is a feeling all too familiar with the sincerest of audiophiles. A brief silence followed by a tune that instantly impresses you fills the air in the local record store. “Who is this?” you ask the jaded yet mildly satisfied record store owner. You’ve fallen in love with a new band and chances are you won’t forget his answer to your question.  

Deerhunter’s “Halycon Digest” is an astounding feat for its ability to bottle that moment up and serve you a set of eleven tracks following that golden thread; each with a character of its own. Deerhunter’s craftsmanship and uncanny level of peerless originality oozes out from every sequence, making for an airtight record without a moment or idea to spare. From the dazzling heart-breaker “Sailing”, the swelling punk/shoe-gaze “Desire Lines” to the masterful neo-psychedelic track “Helicopter”, “Halycon Digest” is an exemplary gem that’ll serve as a mark for the unprecedented level of detail artists could put in their music because they were allowed to. In that respect, “Halycon Digest” goes beyond just being a quality record, but an important one for our generation’s independent music culture. (9/10)

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Shame - 

As a critic, I will encounter a film like Shame and end up drowning myself in thoughts. Directed by Steve McQueen and starring Michael Fassbender, Shame is a textbook example of modern art-house cinema and an unflinching examination on addiction, more determined than any film about its subject matter.

Fassbender and McQueen previously rose to fame with their 2008 gritty masterpiece Hunger; a physically demanding and eternally frightening biopic. The two create a blend of transgressive and audacious art and the well won’t be drying out soon. For the sake of cinema, this duo needs to make a generation of films together; the two creative forces are beyond restraints of human efforts, they are immaculate. 

It’s a little ironic to define, describe or critique Shame; a film that functions through emotion and rarely words. Yes, art-house films almost always follow such an agenda. But the brute artistic force and dexterity McQueen brings with his camera lens steals the words from my tongue and, like Houdini, makes them disappear. Both of his directorial efforts leave me stunned, effected and traumatized for severe amounts of time. 

Sure, we can talk about Fassbender’s performance: his impenetrable forces put as an actor physically and cerebrally. We can bring up the undermined values of Shame: Carey Mulligan’s best career performance, ground-breaking cinematography, visual language and scene structure. We can also point out the unfathomable script the film has been built. 

But instead of technicalities, I want to bring up a question. Why do people drink black coffee? 

You might say, through the pain of the consummation, there is a new state of mind to be explored. Or maybe after a point in life, you get used to the feeling. Or perhaps one gets sick of cream and sugar; needing a kick in the head. 

I say, there is an undefinable zenith humans can reach, but fear. It comes from getting addicted to a force like black coffee. It is this zenith found in Michael Fassbender’s vexation. It’s found through Steve McQueen’s unyielding exploration of the human condition. It’s a zenith known as shame, and this film was the mirror revealing its face to us. 

(10/10)

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The Joy Formidable - The Big Roar

Aside from a close listen and a speck of enthusiasm, there’s nothing that sets U.K. band The Joy Formidable apart from any Britpop or college rock outfit floating about our airwaves lately. But look closer, there’s more than just sophisticated vocabulary in lyrics and arena-sized choruses. Much like an Arcade Fire or an early Oasis, there’s patience required for their album: The Big Roar. With their elements of post-punk and the undeniably rocking female vocals of Ritzy Bryan, The Joy Formidable are one of those aged wine concepts in music. And once you hit the day, they’ll be the only thing you’ll listen to. (7/10)

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Haywire -

Muffled from any synthetic action-cinema styles, Steven Soderbergh’s latest piece of art-house coolness, “Haywire,” is a revenge thriller more raw and bare boned than any ‘Bourne’ artifact could ever come close to. (8/10)

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