'Music For Dogs' is Gardens & Villa's Transitional Catharsis

Despite its name, in Music For Dogs you won’t find high pitched whistles only canines can hear. As far as we know, at least.

Gone too are the tightly controlled and driven, pulsing melodies of 2014’s brilliant and powerful Dunes. The delightfully wild erraticism and uniqueness of its flute and many of the delightfully shocking falsettos are absent as well. Gardens & Villa, now a duo, have moved away from the alternating Tim Goldsworthy-produced dance pop hooks and synth-soothing minimalism to return to their roots, yet their retreat seems haphazard at times. While before their high energy tracks exuded a sort of sexy confidence, the more frantic tracks on Music For Dogs feel as if they’re being chased by their own ambitions, looking over their own shoulder all the while. 

After a bubblingly synthetic "Intro" catapults you into "Maximize Results" you’re whisked into vocalist Chris Lynch forcefully inviting “Looking for love I can take you there / Pushing my luck I can take you there,” seemingly embarking on something promising as his voice rises in pitch to a piercingly frenetic crescendo over quickly hammered keys.

The following track, leading single and pop highlight "Fixations," is an interesting anomaly in the way that it eschews both Dunes' inspired, hard-hitting drama and Music For Dogs' chaos with a much looser and more playful vibe, especially echoed by the video reminiscent of the Warhol-esque psychedelic party scene in Midnight Cowboy. Acting as the middle portion of a one-two-three punch with "Everybody" marching in at the rear, we begin to hear the paranoia implicit throughout much of the record vocalized: “Everybody wants the new you / Nobody cares who you are / Taking pictures of the new you / Watching you from afar / Everybody wants to use you." This sort of discontent commentary on a paparazzo-style culture of music consumption and the fickleness of an industry in which they recently experienced rejection from both their label and disillusioned significant others, it conceives an idea that one would anticipate going on to form the backbone of the LP, but strangely seems to peter out.

The momentum slows after this, as Gardens & Villa mix in the introspective self-help mantras of "Paradise"’s “I wanna believe that I’m trying everything / It could be me someday / I’m gonna find my paradise” with the more literally grounded “Alone In The City,” in which the band, having recently relocated to LA, deliver some of the record's most rousing vocals as Lynch cries out “Do you feel alright?” It's genuine soul-searching, though it's clear the duo might feel more comfortable in their own skin if they could just pin down exactly where it is.

Bookended by “General Research”’s brief resurgence of the iconic flute of old (this was the first time I've ever listened to an album and thought “Wow, I wish this had more flute”) and the monotonous “Jubilee” cleverly mentioning our “terminal verbosity” slogan within the din, is standout track “Express.” And it indeed feels like an express, opening with drum set locomotion like its brother “Bullet Train” (from Dunes) before passing straight by any unnecessary stops. “Express" propels us back to the suaveness we love Gardens & Villa for best, complete with punchy guitar and Lynch articulating that it’s “time comes to express your feelings” while his haunting vocal specters do just that even better than words. 

It's hard to put your finger on exactly why Music For Dogs feels like a step back despite these bright moments. “I wanna believe that I’m trying everything” Lynch croons, and though some of the glittering texture and synth soundscapes are there, they now feel like the exception instead of the rule, having taken a backseat to more traditional measures. You can’t help but wonder if the short 36 minute runtime feels a bit rushed because it was, with the album being written and recorded so shortly after their previous full length and the subsequent Richard Swift-aided Televisor EP (which, by the way, is too often overlooked). 

We only eventually catch a glimpse of the lingering regrets of the duo’s two ended relationships at the very end in "I Already Do,” a melancholic yet optimistic sign off. Suddenly the LP feels like it only narrowly missed being a breakup album, with “I still never deleted all my photos of you / Keep them in my pocket but I’m never scrolling through” firmly dating the record in 2015. Lynch’s declaration of “It’s so hard to breathe when you’re always on the move” speaks volumes about where their transitions in sound, location, and romance have left them, yet there’s little resolution: in cathartically lilting "I’m gonna miss everyone / I think I already do” he leaves it unclear whether Music For Dogs is a beginning or an end.

Mac DeMarco Does It Again on 'Another One'

Whether you call it an EP or a “mini-LP” as his label Captured Tracks would have you, Mac DeMarco’s Another One is eight glittering tracks of simple love songs in the endearingly easygoing and Viceroy-scented way only he can provide.

Leading up to today’s release with a self-directed music video in which he dressed as Michael Jackson and a cover challenge for which the prize was 69¢, DeMarco’s increasingly goofy antics never reach sensationalism as the fanfare is always earned by the end result.

DeMarco doesn’t stray far from his signature sound that made his 2014 release Salad Days so popular, and with good reason. Often labeled as “slacker rock” and self-described as “jizz jazz,” it’s carved out a niche in the saturated world of indie odes that doesn’t look like it’ll be getting old any time soon. Sitting somewhere between the time you turned your cheap childhood record player to a lower speed for a laugh and what whisking an egg in slow motion probably feels like, Another One is an alternately soothing and groovy jaunt through the Canadian’s affable heart. In the title track he manages to make even anxious jealousy (“Who could that be knocking at her door?”) sound smooth.

While the lackadaisical title may imply an overly casual throwaway effort, Another One is as expertly crafted as anything else in the gap-toothed crooner’s discography, exuding just enough substance to satiate the deservedly growing DeMarco cult at least until the next proper record. "I'll put that sparkle right back in your eyes," he promises. And he delivers.

The mini-LP concludes with the instrumental “My House By The Water,” which appropriately includes the sound of the gentle waves his Far Rockaway abode looks out upon (and that feature in the cover art). Signing off with yet another intimate spoken message for his listeners, DeMarco offers "6802 Bayfield Ave, Arverne, New York. Stop on by, I’ll make you a cup of coffee. See you later,” before a warm tape recorder click ends Another One for good.

As if he wasn’t personable enough already, his habit of addressing you – yes you – after the serenades are through further strips away the barrier recordings can build between the artist and the listener, making you wonder how an album could ever end any other way.

Cold War Kids Show No Sign of Slowing Down on 'Five Quick Cuts'

Cold War Kids frontman Nathan Willett's transition from writing the character-driven narratives of his earlier works, such as the band's magnum opus Robbers & Cowards, to more exposed, personal lyrics was completed long before their most recent LP Hold My Home was released last year, yet Five Quick Cuts, a collection of songs left off of that album, finds Willett reaching a new level of introspection.

Grappling with the urge to pause and reset in the opening track "Stop / Rewind," Willett finds himself pushing forward regardless in "One Song At A Time" a short four minutes later. With lines like "Oh, when I began / What a dream to entertain / How do I sustain / While my heart is on display," the LA native is not just looking inward more than ever, but also becoming increasingly literal and honest over time. 

Sonically, the almost robotic pots and pans percussion of the former and frenetic "We Didn't Start The Fire" vibe of the latter show the Kids at their most manic and playful as well. They impatiently launch into soaring choruses sooner and more often, such as in "Thunderhearts," possibly the best and most radio-ready of the bunch, and only take a breather in the sleepy, marching drums of the "Portuguese Bend" interlude.

Make no mistake, though, the chaos is still tightly controlled. The uninhibited and wild "da da da das" of the past are still firmly replaced by neatly aligned "hey hey heys," furthering the trajectory of Cold War Kids' discography as a bit of an odd paradox: as they loosen up and abandon their severity for light-heartedness, they simultaneously clean up their much-adored rawness with polish.

In any case, the pace has picked up in more ways than one as Willett has found a productive stride. Having barely taken his finger off the pulse with three LPs (including his side-project French Style Furs) and two EPs in only three years, he seems to contradict himself in "Amazing" when he warns "This is a marathon not a sprint." 

One thing's for sure, Cold War Kids show no signs of slowing down, even if it takes one of their own motivational speeches to carry on.

Originally released as a vinyl-only Record Store Day exclusive, Five Quick Cuts is now available online as well.

21 Years on, the Force Is Still with Wilco on 'Star Wars'

Dad rock. What is dad rock? I don’t know, because I just looked it up on Wikipedia and I was re-directed to the page for general rock music. I searched for a definition on Google too, and this is what the all-knowing search engine gave me for a definition: “rock music that appeals to an older generation, or that is heavily influenced by that of an earlier era.” By that definition, nearly every popular rock group is dad rock. The truth is, there’s no such thing as dad rock. Dad rock is a term that people use when they’re too lazy to properly evaluate a record or a group.

Which brings us to Wilco, a band that just released a new album, previously unannounced and for free, and a band I believe is just as good as any that’s ever existed. Yet Wilco, now in it’s 21st year of existence – it’s 11th year with the current lineup, an unprecedented era of stability for Wilco – is constantly getting slapped with the label “dad rock” – at least since the release of 2007’s Sky Blue Sky. The fact that the following two Wilco records, Wilco (the album) and The Whole Love were also labeled as such lends credence to the fact that “dad rock” is an utterly meaningless term.

Their latest album, Star Wars, was released last Thursday. As I mentioned earlier, it was released for free on the internet, without any prior notice. Various members of Wilco had stated that they had tons of new material for the next album, but even as late as June 26th, when Wilco’s music festival Solid Sound kicked off, the group wasn’t willing to disclose much more than the fact that, probably, they would release a new record towards the end of the year.

Little did we know, but the record was probably already finished by then – or just about finished. Either way, it came as a total surprise, even to the diehard Wilco nerds like me who meticulously keep track of rumors and gossip about hypothetical new albums.

The album starts off with a very short instrumental track “EKG” – it’s not the catchiest tune, but, it’s full of some neat little sonic details, and Wilco fans love details. Still, it’s a bit of an odd track, though ultimately one that makes more sense after hearing the whole record.

The second track “More...” is where things really pick up. Jeff Tweedy strumming chords gives way to a guitar riff, John Stirratt drops the bass, and Glenn Kotche and his drums kick in. It’s at that moment where your brain realizes, holy shit, this is a new Wilco record. “More…” leaves you bobbing your head, and – if you know them – singing along to the lyrics. It’s a good way to truly set the pace for the rest of the record.

“Random Name Generator” is the next track, and it will go down as one of the classic Wilco songs, especially from the post Sky Blue Sky era. While the riff playing throughout the song is simple – aren’t all great riffs? – the song itself is everything a great Wilco song can be: expansive, with so much sound to explore, extremely catchy, and something you can rock out to. Parts of the song are reminiscent of the rhythmic pounding of power chords present in “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” from 2004’s a ghost is born.

“The Joke Explained” the following song, is a slightly more playful and relaxed track, though one that still features power drumming and bass to hold it together through the verses. It’s also full of the sort of wistful, oddly insightful lyrics that Jeff Tweedy writes, including the following line, which applies to the relationship that myself and many other fans have with Jeff and the band – “I stared…at the eyes staring at my face.”

A more complex song follows, the five minute and sixteen second song “You Satellite.” It’s the longest song on the record, and perhaps the most interesting to dive into. It’s not as driving or rhythmic as some of the other songs, but it’s very layered, with all three guitar players (Tweedy, Pat Sansone, and Nels Cline, the greatest guitarist alive) at times each playing something different. In that sense it’s like a very distorted “Impossible Germany”- it’s like if that song had been released on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

“Taste the Ceiling” is my (current) personal favorite song from the record. It’s an upbeat song, with slightly less upbeat lyrics – another Tweedy special. This is the kind of song one can easily imagine hearing Jeff play solo. That’s a bit of a rarity on this album, as none of the tracks feature exclusively acoustic guitar – though Jeff plays acoustic on some songs, there’s always a heavy electric presence be it Cline or Sansone doing the playing.

The following song “Pickled Ginger” is another song from the Wilco rock tradition – like every song on this album it’s more layered and sonically altered than say, “Monday” – but it rocks just as hard. You may also recognize this song as the one Jeff Tweedy and his “band” Land Ho played on Parks and Recreation.

“Where Do I Begin” starts off as one of the more straight forward songs on the album, just guitar chords and Jeff singing, nothing too fancy. Then, towards the end, the rest of the band kicks in and quickly takes you on a plunge through some noise rock riffing, but not for long. Like several of the more noise rock-y songs on the album, it seems like something that could be expanded and really explored in depth at a live show.

The final section of the record kicks off with “Cold Slope” which is led by some thick guitar riffs in Open G that keep you nodding along throughout the song. Some folks have cited this song as having a heavy Pavement vibe, and I can agree with that. But even then, it’s Pavement filtered through Wilco’s creative process, which is an entirely different thing.

“Cold Slope” leads directly into “King of You” – the two could honestly be one longer song, but they work very well broken up. “King” is a bit more heavy, but still similar to “Slope” – enough to sound complementary, and not repetitive.

Then there’s the final track, “Magnetized.” This one will go down with many other songs as another great Jeff Tweedy love song, though one could imagine it having been an unreleased Beatles tune. The song begins, and holds for a while, with just a chromatic piano chord structure and a metronome, before, as in previous songs on this album, the rest of the band kicks in. From there, it only gets more beautiful, and, to quote the song “I realize I’m magnetized” – magnetized to Wilco, that is.

Wilco, after a period where some – but not this writer - accused them of stagnancy, have released an unexpected and complex record. It is an LP unlike their previous releases, and although you can pick out some of the continuing strands like the origins of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s sonic exploration during “Being There” if you listen close enough, it comes as a notable departure from their other albums. All the more remarkable is that it’s only about 33 minutes long, yet it still packs a heavy punch.

Star Wars should serve as the deathblow to the “dad rock” label for Wilco (it won’t, but that’s another story), not only because they released it in an incredibly modern way on a modern medium, but because the record itself consists of utterly modern rock songs. After 21 years, - almost the course of my entire lifetime - Wilco is continuing to grow and evolve, and they’re not doing it in off in their own little comfortable corner either, but rather up there amongst the leaders of the rock ‘n’ roll brigade, still rocking into the future.

Tame Impala's 'Currents' is Latest Evolution in Kevin Parker's Quest for Perfection

While it may have been impossible to predict that the same band that released Innerspeaker in 2010 would create an album like Currents in 2015, in hindsight it's not at all difficult to see how this new sound was reached. Just as Innerspeaker gave Tame Impala the psych-rock label that would be expanded upon in Lonerism, Lonerism in turn introduced the spacey synthesizers and pristine production that would take the lead in Currents. While this latest installment in frontman Kevin Parker's discography may be the most sonically different out of anything in the Tame Impala catalog, it still retains something that makes it familiar.

Most notably, Currents marks Parker’s transition to becoming the complete embodiment of Tame Impala, as he wrote, recorded, produced, performed, and mixed it entirely on his own in his home studio. Up until this point he had worked with other bandmates or at least producer and mix engineer Dave Fridmann, but Currents is his first singularly created album, and his well-documented obsessive nature shows through this in pretty much every aspect. From the lush synth tracks that bubble through the mix to his effortless, washed out vocals, every sound is rendered with the utmost care.

Though this LP builds upon the foundation laid by Tame Impala’s first two albums it certainly lives in it’s own space.  This was evident even in "Let it Happen," the first single released, as the nearly eight-minute track features synth-driven melodies, enough studio tricks to make nearly any producer’s mouth water, and, most surprisingly, barely any guitar. While other tracks on Currents do utilize more guitar, the instrument is mainly used as more of an accent rather than the focal point of each song, a stark contrast from previous staple tracks like "Elephant." Even the song "Eventually," which begins with a fuzzy guitar riff, transforms into a shimmering synth jam as it descends into the verse. 

Besides a lack of guitar, Currents is unique in part because Parker has come to embrace pop songwriting techniques. Leading up to the release of Lonerism he admitted “I really love, like, pop music now” in one of the videos shared by Modular Recordings, and he also revealed that he had written an entire album for Kylie Minogue, an Austrailian pop singer. Since then, Parker has gone on to record with American pop producer Mark Ronson and is featured on 3 tracks on Ronson’s 2015 album Uptown Special. 

Currents can’t exactly be classified as pop, but it’s probably the closest thing to pop that Tame Impala has released. Yet, after songs like the synthy ballad “Yes I’m Changing” and the sugary-sweet “The Less I Know The Better," Parker throws out a left turn in “Past Life," which features pitched down, spoken word vocals not unlike how documentary characters sound when trying to hide their identity in an interview, that ultimately pulls the album back down into an odd haze of phased out, psychedelic noise.

In terms of lyrical content, while Innerspeaker and Lonerism came from the mind of someone stuck inside their own head, Currents showcases that same voice venturing beyond introspection. It’s easy to call this record a break-up album, but Kevin Parker is very clear that it’s much more than that. He speaks largely about change - change in himself, change around him, change in other people - and how those changes shape his thoughts and emotions.  It seems like he’s been through a lot, but he’s pretty okay with letting things happen as they come.

Currents comes as two things: It is the most adventurous, interesting, and well-produced collection of songs Kevin Parker has created thus far, sitting atop of the Tame Impala discography as the most mature and painstakingly crafted iteration in their twisted psych-pop world. However, it also serves as a transition. If anything, we now know that Kevin Parker is unable to stick with a certain sound, forever looking for new ways to evolve his ideas and push his project beyond what was expected when Innerspeaker first hit the shelves. While this album is impressive in its own right, it’s definitely going to be interesting to see what comes next.

You Are Going to Be Pleasantly Surprised by This: French Style Furs' Debut 'Is Exotic Bait'

“You are going to be pleasantly surprised by this,” seduces Nathan Willett in the opening line of “Miami U R About 2 B Surprised,” and he couldn’t have been more right.

It was indeed quite a surprise when it was announced that the Cold War Kids frontman and bandmate Matt Maust were teaming up with We Barbarians drummer Nathan Warkentin (with Haley Dekle of Dirty Projectors featuring as well) to form side-project turned supergroup French Style Furs, and now it’s finally here, with the trio releasing their debut LP Is Exotic Bait on Frenchkiss Records today.

Named after a storefront in Brooklyn and cultivated in spontaneity, French Style Furs is abstract and pulsing with the kind of creative urgency that comes with writing and recording in between shows, with Willett’s signature howls, barks, and wails giving restless life to lyrics inspired by Trappist monk and mystic Thomas Merton’s poetry.

Opening with the quasi-autobiographical “3 Friends,” Is Exotic Bait exudes this vivacity, confidently declaring “Damn it / We are here” after chronicling the musicians’ decision to “Live together and know nothing of it,” with “No plans / No benefits,” and asking “Could we just fly in space / And forget to exist?” If that isn’t the description of playing in a band then I don’t know what is.

Taking the dance-inspiring synth vibes explored in Cold War Kids’ last album Dear Miss Lonelyhearts and running with them, Willett and co. get downright frantic in “All The Way Down,” before transitioning into the fuzzy, vaguely U2-esque riffs of “(World In My) Bloodstream.”

Standout track “Solitary Life” opens with one of the best bass grooves of Maust’s discography so far (you can almost see him jerkily swaying on stage as you hear it) before swinging horns, Dekle’s vocalizations, and even some cowbell are layered on.

Produced by Nick Launay, whose past projects include Nick Cave (one of the Cold War Kids duo’s main influences) and Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Is Exotic Bait is steeped in the brooding of the former and the sharpness of the latter; “Miami” and “Turn or Burn” display some of the darkest and deepest vocals ever recorded by Willett, while the beat and pulse of “Christmas Card” could just as easily be filled with Karen O’s shrieks and shouts.

Complete with another beautiful specimen of cover art from Maust, Is Exotic Bait is good on its promise of being one of this year’s most pleasant surprises. Oh, and only Willett could write a song called “Ambassadors Of General Electric” and make it sexy as hell. Check it out in its full glory below:

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Originally published on The Music Ninja