Of Montreal - "A Celebration of H. Hare" 7" (Happy Happy Birthday to Me)

Nothing can get the song "A Celebration of H. Hare" out of my head. Not the "Pizza in the morning, pizza in the evening..." commercial, not the O-Town song "All for Love," not anything. Kevin Barnes writes songs that sound so familiar and catchy, that you feel like you can hum them upon hearing them for the first time. Maybe it's his innocent, high-pitched voice that makes him seem so likable, or the fact that he and the rest of Of Montreal look exactly like the Monkees (pre-Headquarters). How can you not love a guy that wears an orange scarf on stage? That fact should be enough to make you want to join this Happy Happy Birthday to Me Records singles club, besides knowing that 7"s from Essex Green, The Minders and Marshmallow Coast are also part of the deal and all the singles come in distinctive hand-made sleeves. Even though "A Celebration of H. Hare" shows up later on the band's singles/songles collection, Horse and Elephant Eatery, and the other side of this 7" is described as (according to the insert) "the me and dave amusing ourselves at our parents house on christmas side" (and what I describe as "boring"), this is still a single worth having. (jc)

The Orange Peels - So Far (spinART)

California is called "The Golden State" not just because of the precious ore found in the 1800s, but also for its natural beauty, pleasant weather, and-- most importantly--the idea that anyone, regardless of social or economic background, can make it here. Because Silicon Valley was ground zero for the Internet gold rush, those of us who lived here in the late-1990s felt the full impact of the housing crunch. More people wanted to live here than we had homes for, and as demand for housing went up, so did the prices. Given that, it's almost unbelievable that a musician and his wife were able to buy their dream home in the middle of it all, but through much hard work and saving, Allen Clapp and Jill Pries of the Orange Peels, did it. (This is the Golden State, remember.) The house was one designed by Joseph Eichler, an architect who used a sparse, modern style to showcase the natural environment while providing all the amenities of living in the world of tomorrow.
Not all was picture-perfect, however. The band had released an album to lots of critical acclaim, but it was not heard much outside a small group of pop music enthusiasts. The pressure to make another record more palatable to the taste du jour was intense. So, Allen withdrew into the garage of his house, which he'd converted into a recording studio. Meditating on Carpenters and Dionne Warwick records gave him direction on the pop songwriting format; disillusionment with the music industry and the near breakup of his band gave him the subject matter. A year and a half and another record label later, the Orange Peels have released their second collection of hits, So Far. The contrast between the idyllic myths and the stark reality of life in California are directly paralleled here by the use of upbeat melodies and bittersweet lyrics. It's a winning combination that several British bands, such as the Zombies, the Smiths, and even Belle & Sebastian, have used to great effect. Unfortunately, American bands generally seem to pass on this practice--to their detriment. In addition, by including specific references to Northern California, the Orange Peels give the melancholy a concrete form with inferred causes rather than being merely an abstract ennui. It's the blues, in a sense--not just emo whining--and through this, the listener can connect with the musicians as folks who understand what it's like to live in God's country. Veteran players Larry Winther, Bob Vickers, and John Moremen aptly flesh out the "California Sound".
The eleven songs contained in this album form a new soundtrack for modern living. It should be played in your car on long drives, on your favorite radio station, and on your stereo when you're at home with the one you love. It'll give you the feeling that even if things aren't OK right now, eventually everything will turn out all right; just like how the sun always comes back to shine on the Golden State. (as)

The Papercuts - Rejoicing Songs (CassingleUSA)

Rejoicing Songs is quite the unexpected little gem from singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Jason Quever. I first saw Jason when he was guesting in Duster and have since seen the Papercuts a few times. While I thought the band had some catchy tunes, I have to admit I wasn't blown away. Their acousti-pop just wasn't particularly distinctive. While this first collection of songs isn't breaking new musical ground, the eight-track intricacies lend the songs lots of intimacy and character. Casiotone beats, reverby organ, piano, cello, a bit o' scratching, and sparse percussion collaborate on different songs to accompany Jason's boyish-sounding voice (which reminds me of a gentler Isaac from Modest Mouse). Actually, Jason's vocal accents and phrasing are what make the songs charming and keep somewhat straightforward lyrics from being boring. The songs here vary from KG-like minor-key talky pop to more dour Black Heart Procession piano-y tunes. My favorite track happens to be a song I remember from seeing them live--the whistle-accompanied, sing-along chorused "Gravity." This album makes me view the Papercuts in a new light and I now look forward to catching them play in person again. (yc)

Portastatic - De Mel, De Melão EP (Merge)

This is the first release in a while for Mac McCaughan as Portastatic and it's definitely a different take on things. This is his homage to five Brazilian artists: Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Arnaldo Baptista, Gal Costa, and Joyce. While I'm far from intimately familiar with Brazilian music, I have heard a sampling and can tease out an idea of what the originals sound like from Mac's renditions. He has lovingly given the tunes a Portastatic bent of lush lo-fi and kept many of the Portuguese lyrics intact. My least favorite of the bunch is the middle track, "I Fell In Love One Day," as its dirgy, crackly, beepy texture trudges a bit too much and reminds me of a tuneless Smog song, although the trumpet has its appeal. I much prefer the happier blip of "Baby" and the sweetness of "Clareana," songs that reflect the vibrant tile of the chapel on the cover. "Lamento Sertanejo" makes me think of Giant Sand while "Nao Indentificado" is the most Portastatic-sounding of the lot and possibly my favorite track just for its purity of heart. While it's a bit odd to hear Mac's voice singing foreign words, it works, and this EP is certainly a keeper. (yc)

Postal Blue - S/T CD EP (Drive-In)

This EP is short and sweet, literally. With songs like "Maybe I'm dreaming" and "I know where your dreams go," it's hard not to feel like it's sugar-coated. Brazil's Postal Blue don't try to break any new ground with their four bright yet melancholy songs. According to the band, this debut is not a first; "as strange as it may seem - we have always been around." It's true, this sound has been around for a long time in independent music; with recent bands like Belle and Sebastian, who in turn have taken threads from Nick Drake. Not that Postal Blue sound exactly like these other bands, rather they continue with a tide that others created and have solid enough melodies to hook the listener. They are on the lower edge of this genre though, losing it mostly with the cheesy lyrics and song titles. Certainly with a little time and experience this band could put out a really good LP, as long as it doesn't have the word "dream" in the title... (jc)

Pram - The Museum of Imaginary Animals (Merge)

This album is as quaint and fanciful and wonderful as the title makes it out to be. At times it strikes me as a playful version of Broadcast with spritely horns, vibes, theramin, an electronic beat and a real sense of beauty in the absurd. I can imagine myself in some candy forest being lead by a strange pixie girl with the threat of a looming evil but fun diversions that make you forget you're lost. It is a testament to the music that it takes a reading of the lyrics to make you realize there's much darkness lurking in the corners of the bright, pretty, engrossing displays. It's not that you don't hear what's being sung, but it's so beguilingly packaged that you really don't process as a whole what's being said. Or maybe I just have a problem multi-tasking. Anyhow, I put this in the large box where Broadcast, Movietone, and even Stereolab reside in my head and mark it as one to cherish. (yc)

The Red Scare - Strangers Die Everyday (Troubleman/HandHeldHeart)

The Red Scare play hardcore punk rock in the vein of bands from the early '90s with a modern twist. Think the Rye Coalition side of the split with Karp, Sleepytime Trio, and maybe Heroin. While the Red Scare aren't doing anything groundbreaking, they certainly have made an impact on hardcore today--consistently writing great songs, releasing great records and constantly touring. Strangers Die Everyday is much slower and different than their first LP, Capillary Lockdown, but that's a good thing. The new songs ebb and flow, pulsate and occasionally come up for air (there are two terrific instrumental songs on here). The guitar playing between Jon and Kip is really great, as they both appear to have a huge Iron Maiden influence ("Smokey Mountain High"). The rhythm section of Abby and Matt tie this record together ("Risking Your Life...") and hold it up until the end. All in all, a superb hardcore record that is driving and powerful, but leaves you enough room to breathe. Nine out of ten. (cp)

Rhythm of Black Lines - S/T (Six Gun Lover)

This new project from Paul Newman's Paul Newman didn't barrel me over on initial listen, but it did offer surprise. I was expecting a cookie-cutter of the math-lite instrumentals and moodiness of that eponymous band. Rhythm of Black Lines instead offers four tracks of pleasant poppish turns, grafting pieces from that playbook for texture wrap. The guitar lines are clean and straight ahead, the vocals surprisingly falsetto and the mood inifinitely more upbeat than expected. I get stuck in a rut of analyzing music with the critic cap constantly on and had this pegged as "Polvo meets the Police." Hardly life changing and the simple answer to the unposed question--this will indeed appeal to fans of the Tejano-slowcore scene from whence it spawned, but those little differences and pleasantries provide relief from the impression that you've heard it all before. (gc)

The Rock*A*Teens - Noon Under the Trees CD EP (Moodswing)

Cabbagetown, Georgia’s gothic rock stars are back with five songs of eternal gloomy goodness. For me, their sound has always conjured up images of Echo & the Bunnymen’s Ian McCulloch fronting a 50’s band sucked into a 40’s-style radio blasting at a Southern backwater bar with a slowly spinning disco ball bouncing beautiful light off the late-night sinners and barflies. The music has a timeless quality through their use of effects and arrangement—jangly guitar with a distance, serene keys cut by distortion, strained vocals with a dirty edge. Sometimes printing out the lyrics for a band is just useless and embarrassing, but Rock*A*Teens songs are like outsider poetry which is sometimes obscured by their tuneful, echoing melodies. Their style may not have mass appeal, but for those who are interested, this is as good a place to start as any. (yc)

Saint Etienne - Sound of Water (Sub Pop)

In the past ten years, Saint Etienne have been quite prolific, putting out a convoluted mix of albums, singles, EPs, remix albums, solo albums, etc. On Sound of Water, their latest album, Saint Etienne have created a more mature sound that is similar enough to their previous works to still evoke pure pop pleasure, while being distinct enough to sound new and fresh. As music journalist Simon Reynolds points out in the liner notes, this new album can be seen as a conflation between Saint Etienne's two disparate sides--one embodied by the quest for pop perfection, and the other by a streak of sonic experimentation. This synthesis is evidenced by the experimental electronic bleeps and bloops bubbling just beneath the lush pop orchestration and the sparkling vocals of Sarah Cracknell. They had help on this album from Sean O'Hagen of the High Llamas, and the Lippok brothers of To Rococo Rot, all of whose influences can be easily distinguished. (jh)

The Salteens - Short-Term Memories (Endearing)

Sharp pop complete with bah-bahs and hand claps. I originally thought this was well-performed but there was something a little annoying about it. A bit too retro? Too much power guitar? Lead male vocals a tad thin at times? Bass too bubbly? Just too cheesy in general? It reminded me some of Allen Clapp without the charm. But to their credit, the Salteens do what they do with precision and a sense of fun and I ended up liking it better than I thought I would. There's enough of a variety in style that's it's not boring in that sense. For example, "Crash the Market" sounds like Pansy Division meets the Rentals and then is followed up by "Culture"'s acoustic guitar partnered with organ, followed by the Big Star sound of "Guy Dog." "Emptyhead" is New Order-ish and the album closes out with the peppy horn-driven "Nice Day." In the end, this album does provide for pleasant listening, but will probably be hard-pressed to become a remarkable part of your music collection. (yc)

Saturday Looks Good to Me - (Ypsilanti)

If you put the second song off this CD on a tape for a friend and fail to include very much information, he or she will probably assume it is taken from a thirty year old motown 45--the rhythm, the energy, the farawayness of the sound making it easy to believe the song had been sitting naked in a box, vinyl turning grey-ish, waiting for a chance. Of course if you play it for a group of your friends, you can have an immediate and unrelenting dance party, where everyone spins and leaps with an uncontainable frenzy and joy. Fred Thomas, who has played punk with a Hüsker Dü-like tension and complexity in the band LOVESICK and founded the sometimes-minimal sometimes-lush improvisational band FLASHPAPR, is working on another approach entirely in SLGTM--that of songwriter and producer--but without the megalomania of Phil Spector or the schizophrenia of Brian Wilson. He has, however, taken the role at its best and pulled together the swinging horns, distant bells and crooning voices of his Michigan peers into song. Fortunate enough to have friends talented and considerate enough to be able to deliver lines like "there is no impetus for sadness" and play over the top sax solos without the slightest hint of irony, he is also able to recognize what each song requires to succeed--huge production thick with instrumentation, or only bubbling noise, echoey guitar and a crisp voice. The songs are heavy with longing, like the best of their predecessors, but SLGTM is not about nostalgia or mimicry. The inspiration of this record is readily available to the most blasé of listeners, but this is where its subtler strength appears. At the moments where the record seems most familiar--the similarities between “I Would Find it So Beautiful” and Otis Redding’s “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long (to Stop Now)” are striking--convention is slyly manipulated. Notes resonate for a moment too long, unplaceable sounds drift in and out of focus, a lyric cuts too deep (“oblivious to the irrelevance of things that are done”) and there’s no avoiding in what world the record was made. Whether this was intentional or a by-product of its homemade process is unknowable, and perhaps immaterial. This record demonstrates the possibility of infusing old forms with new meaning, and it is great to dance to. (es)