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Let’s give The Faint the credit they are due: they could very well be riding the crest of the corporate new-wave revival that they should be credited for helping pioneer. After 2001’s Danse Macabre, they likely could have inked with any number of major labels and doomed current platinum-selling shlock like The Killers to also-ran “second coming of The Faint” status. Instead, they decided to stick with the lady they came to the dance with, sticking with their hometown Saddle Creek label and remaining content to build on their feverishly devoted grassroots fan base and, in the process, retaining complete control over their music. Their songs may not be getting the American Idol “pimpmercial” treatment from aspiring superstars, but judging by the big ol’ tour bus the band rolled up to Milwaukee’s Pabst Theater in last night, they’re doing all right for themselves. Read more »
I have encountered a myriad of difficulty trying to wrap my head around how to appropriately and best describe the music stylings of Pool of Frogs; a caffeinated, uber-energetic band of rockers setting out to do justice to all walks of the rock and roll. Essentially, I am incapable of doing so. This is because there is no way to best describe them and there is certainly no one music genre they fit into. They are able to shift back and forth between a hardcore and punkish feel yet in the same song break it down to a simpler and smaller head bobbing feel. (Yes, I am attempting to explain their style of music by assessing how extravagantly a listener would move his or her head to the music, so just roll with me.)
Pool of Frogs features 5 tracks on their Myspace Page, providing a nice sampler of what they are capable of. They are great at mixing up the rifts and vocals during each song, keeping you on the edge of your seat as you can’t be sure what might happen during every song. (We’ll be holding a drawing for everyone to guess how many of the tunes that Pool of Frogs will play at the Superstarcastival will effectively jump between styles of rock. Just like guess how many M&Ms are in the jar. The winner gets a high five from me, a highly coveted prize not to be dismissed lightly.)
“Lover†and “Extrasolar Planets†are the two featured tracks on their page while they give you “Lover,†‘Be What I Want,†“King of Catholic Church†and “Blackriver†as feeds via Youtube. These videos showcase their unparalleled energy levels while performing live as well as their creative potential in producing humorous and almost anecdotal music videos. “King of Catholic Church†is a mixture of Tenacious D and They Might Be Giants in terms of combining off-the-beaten path music with varying vocal demeanors. “Be What I Want†is a nice change of pace as they bring a keyboard and some previously unheard harmony into the mix, more things to add to their flowing list of musical capabilities.
The one thing that Pool of Frogs promises to deliver in a musical performance, besides innovation and energy, is a consistent usage of expletives in a loud, raucous manner. How could you not want to see them Sat, June 2nd at the Beat Kitchen? I’ll be there, armed and ready to hand out that elusive high five. Until then, check out their answers to our infamous 5 Questions:
1. When historians listen to your most recent CD 1000 years from now, what will they say?
hmmmm……
2. If you could play a show w/ any band/musician living or dead, whom would you pick and why?
Dinosaur Jr. because for a brief moment, not too long ago, we thought we were going to open up for them when they come to town soon.
3. What is the strangest band-related dream you have had?
hey! sex dreams with band members reflects how connected we are through the music!
4. What do your fans look like?
All hot chicks, dude. Absolutely nothing but hot chicks.
5. What bullshit do you run into at most every show that makes you think, “Man, this Bullshit again?â€
Honestly, shoddy sound engineers.
Bonus Question: Why won’t you forget to tip your bartender?
Because his name is Marko and he’s huge and angry
According to Uncut.co.uk, shoegaze legends Ride are reforming. Really, should I write any more? Does more need to be said? Well, yes, in fact, this is a perfect opportunity to comment on Mark Gardner’s lackluster solo shows - where the only highlight is breaking out some Ride classics. It may also be a great time to say that Oasis’ last album, “Don’t Believe The Truth” was one of their best because it was the first album on which you could hear Andy Bell’s influence. Have I written enough yet?
You can see the newly reformed Ride on June 7th through the 10th at the North By Northeast Music and Film Festival in Toronto, Canada.
Folks, if you haven’t heard yet, your comrades at Superstarcastic are getting ready to turn up the Chicago heat faster than Chris C
apuano sending smoke flying past Alfonso Soriano at Wrigley Field Miller Park South. The first ever Superstarcastival is taking place on Saturday, June 2nd at one of my favorite Chicago venues (no lie–it’s frickin’ great), The Beat Kitchen. And because we’re filthy commies, the proceeds are going to benefit Concern Worldwide.
As we approach the big day, we thought we’d be swell and give you a sneak peek at what you’re in for–that being an eclectic stew of everything we dig here at Superstarcentral. Along with the driving indie rock of The Red Tie Affair, the earplug-mandatory dance-skronk of IfIHadAHiFi, the bluesy psychedelic punk of Pool of Frogs, and the no-nonsense asskickery of Das Kapital, the Superstarcastival will be bringing you the delightfully snotty punk-pop of Chicago-via-Austin’s The Lusties.
Yeah, that’s right–punk-pop, as opposed to pop-punk, which very often sucks. What’s the difference? Instead of emulating relatively lightweight pop-punksters, these cats go for the jugular by channeling the badassery of punk rock ‘n’ roll bands like X, The NY Dolls, and a few modern groups like the Distillers for good measure, only to sprinkle some sugar in with the medicine by way of the buzzsaw power-pop of bands like Cheap Trick. If i’m not getting too obscure here, i’d like to point out that The Lusties remind me in no small degree of The Goops, a fantastic but obscure female-fronted punk band from the mid-90s whose singer, Eleanor Whitledge, had a lot in common with the deep, soulful alto of The Lusties’ own Ms. Edie Lustie.
Anyway, enough talk. Tunes. The Lusties’ MySpace page features a pair of tracks from their 4-song EP, so feel free to crank “High School Love” and get all hot ‘n’ bothered on your own. Then head down to the Beat Kitchen on June 2nd for a live dose of sex, booze, and “the only band worth the hangover.”
You can’t buy this album.
No, seriously, you can’t. At least not anymore. In its original incarnation, it was self-released, and though Elijah Wyman printed it twice, the run was still limited to fewer than 500 copies. Three years or so later, Grinding Tapes did a limited-edition re-release — and by limited, I mean that they pressed fifty copies, which you had to pre-order. (As a side note, I saw Elijah live a month or so before the re-release happened, and I gave him a hard time about the fact that I couldn’t buy Give & Take anymore. As such, I like to think I had something to do with its re-release. Look, just let a man have his dream, okay?) At the time, Wyman said this was it, he was done with this album, and he wasn’t going to put it out again. I don’t really doubt that he meant it either.
So, you may well ask, why are you bothering to review an album that’s several years old and out of print? The answer is: because I’ve been listening to it over and over again for the past couple weeks, and even if you can’t find it and share it with me, I still just want to talk about it.
Part of what I like best about Give & Take, I think, is that it has a sort of innocence about it, the sound of someone discovering songwriting for the first time. Occasionally, as on “Lines,” Wyman double-tracks his voice so that he can sing both parts, but otherwise this is the simplest of acoustic albums: a man and his guitar. Further, Wyman rarely falls into folk-style strumming, opting instead for repetitive picking and unusual but quiet riffs on two or three strings. This is a spare, delicate record. It’s clean — although, as Wyman wryly states on “Heartbreaker”: “even Florida looks clean on a postcard.”
Give & Take’s most immediate touchstone is probably something like Nick Drake’s Pink Moon, but while it reminds me of that album sonically, Wyman approaches this material from a very different perspective. The mood is worlds away from the southern Gothic horror of Why We Never Go Swimming & Other Short Stories (notwithstanding the fact that Wyman would choose to recycle “Girls Should Drive Automatics” for use on that album), and although it has some Christian inflections (especially on “Shadowlands,” which I guess is fitting for a song named after a C. S. Lewis biopic), religious themes don’t dominate the record quite as much as they do on the one immediately after it, Beautiful Like Words. Rather, there’s a sort of peace about a lot of the music, something that might almost be naivete — one of the album’s best songs is called “I Like Cotton Better When It Flies,” for crying out loud — if it weren’t for the fact that Wyman’s lyrics are too literate for that. In a good way, more like, say, Rachael Sage than mid-period Sting. It’s a trait that, to borrow Wyman’s words again, is “rare as rain in Los Angeles.”
Since this is so hard to find, I recommend you pick up one of Wyman’s albums that’s in print. Why We Never Go Swimming is the better of the two — it made Superstarcastic’s 88 Darlings of 2006, after all, so you know it’s good. But if by some miracle, you find this one, be sure you give it a spin for me. And then give it another one for yourself, ’cause you deserve it.
Release Date: July 26, 2003
Label: Grinding Tapes (eventually)
Rating: 9/10
Welcome to Texlahoma, a quaint if not average town that knows only beef, dairy and football. Our story centers on a pair of cojoined twins who fall in love during the high school football half-time show and their subsequent struggle to get into the college of their choice.
Written by Hard Art Groop bassist John Elmquist and Jumpsuit, who split musical duties with HAG, Cowtown (The Musical The Opera) isn’t quite Orwell’s Animal Farm nor is it Oklahoma! It’s far too innocent and corrupt to be one or the other, what with songs about milk, football, eating meat, breathing meat, Siamese-twin-love… if there was a metaphor, I missed it, but I enjoyed all those puns, rhymes, and word-plays about cows. What I mean is that it was very mooooooving.
A beat-up grand piano in the middle of the stage divided the two bands, or more identifiably, those with glasses and sheet music, and those without. Actors/musicians donned plastic cow masks between songs of surprisingly complex and catchy music (compared to typical(?) bovine-based fare, that is), which crossed Meredith Willson with Mr. Bungle. A few more rehearsals would have helped, but the players had the wherewithal to shake things up and move along quickly when the collective unpreparedness got uncomfortable.
But who cares? Tightness, like story and theme, are incidentals in Cowtown. The only discernible plot is what I gathered from ‘Wretchitatif & Aria !Hola! (A Review)’ sung by Miss Texlahoma… after falling for each other at the high school football game, the cojoined twins/lovers get accepted to the same college, though with one problem: the school lacks co-ed dorms. An emergency separation-procedure is performed, and one of the twins - the female half - dies in the process. The operation, nonetheless, is considered a success.
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I could be accused of spoiling the ending, but the Hard Art Groop plays a live show once, twice, maybe three times a year, so if you weren’t at the Chopin Theater last Tuesday, you will have to wait indefinitely for the next appearance, which is almost certain to feature a completely new revue. In fact, so little is known about the HAG, that I question whether or not what I saw was an hallucination brought on by a dinner of vitamin D milk and Omaha steaks. Then again, there are 12 HAG releases to suggest vaccinial verisimilitude, but I’m still not sure exactly what it is I saw. HAG’s other suites are at least thematic, if not loosely narrative, and carry rosters that range from 25 players to five. The best way to delve into the world of John Elmquist and Co. is to listen online and buy your fav in full, unless waiting six months for the next live show is your thing.
Jumpsuit, on the other hand, is a little easier to track down, and though no shows are listed, they do feature the same three musicians every time they play, and aren’t just an udder band on the scene.
The set-up, character development, and the story itself are just vehicles for words like ‘Cowtechism’, ‘Bo[di]vine’ and ‘Methane-phetamines’, and the only wisdom gained from the whole experience come from featured speaker Paul Velat (aka Lord of the Yum Yum): “Drink a lot, responsibly,” and avoid inhaling the particulate matter from ground-up cow carcasses. Who would want anything more from a musical about meat and half-time twin-romance?
The Hard Art Groop is kind of, no… exactly like that. You may find a deeper meaning to probe if you’re looking for one, but you are guaranteed a disc (or a full musical stage production, if you’re lucky and paying attention) of mock rock opera in forms that most genius and amateur composers alike would shy away from presenting to the public.
