Another day, another Swedish band changing its name (see The LK). Now it’s
Out Of Clouds changing their name to Alibi Tom, with a change in members and a change in style. In my previous post, I described Out Of Clouds as being influenced by ABBA and 70’s AM radio. Let me also change that, dropping the ABBA reference (hey now, it was true, not just because they’re Swedish) to say their smart, hook-throwing indie rock is influenced by 70’s AM radio. So here’s to new beginnings, and their debut LP Scrapbook out May 4.
We Were The States
Murfreesboro, Tennessee’s We Were The States have taken their childhood influences, dozens of them from 70’s punk to 90’s indie rock and beyond, thrown them into the blender of their collective spirit, and come out with a version of post-punk/garage-punk rock that’s original and entirely their own. Brash, energetic, and no-fuss, their songs must make for a heckuva live show. Their debut LP Believe the Thieves is out now.
The Whigs
I swear I must have llistened to “Right Hand on My Heart” a hundred times since I pulled it off the SXSW website a few weeks ago. The full-on power rock of Athens, GA’s The Whigs is pure excitement, from the driving, droning guitars to the tight drumming, and then the bass kicks in, whoo wee. This is a great ride to be on, with a band that clearly has their skills and history down. Best song I’ve posted in 2008? Without a doubt.
The Lovely Sparrows
They’re on Abandoned Love records and of the song “Chemicals “Change” they say ” It’s been well noted by many music journalists that this was a break up record. Roger that.” So you can probably guess where on the lyrical spectrum that The Lovely Sparrows fall. But as with Okay from last week (I seem to have a mini-fetish with acoustic guitar right now), the story about this music is much more than the lost love and disappointment expressed in the words. Shawn Jones has a mildly forceful vocal range with a hint of Texas drawl, like a mixture of Eef Barzelay and Edie Brickell. There’s some Modest Mouse in there too, or at least what Isaac Brock might have become if he’d been raised in the Hill Country instead of the rainy Northwest. The Lovely Sparrows undoubtedly do their hometown of Austin proud in live performance because these two tracks, for all their polish and shine, sound like they would fill you with the joy of Jones’s despair in concert. And indeed, that’s what you’ll find on tracks recorded for the excellent Daytrotter Sessions.
Tappan Zee
In one of Douglas Coupland’s novels, maybe All Families are Psychotic, there’s a passage about how we lived in a golden age, without pain or fear, something like that… When I found Tappan Zee one day last year while digging around the Internet, that idea came back to me. Check out their introduction on the Wormco website — “It’s 1999. . . . . and what have we got to show for it?” etc. Just a little reflection, like finding an old newspaper from before you were married or had kids, from before the war, before 9/11. I like “The Only Ones,” nice and simple indie rock from the good old days, eh? Whatever happened to Tappan Zee?
The Strugglers
Brice Randall Bickford II + friends + Carrboro, NC = The Strugglers. It’s all about location, right? Grab the finely aged “Goodness Gracious” and bask in a little Southern twang & steel guitar — warm, sad sounds, protective like an grown-up version of your childhood blankie. Like he sings in the song: “Don’t you know what will happen with you staring at the world like this?” Or download “Morningside Heights,” the poppy, wise opening track from the band’s 2008 release The Latest Rights and get lost in the violin’s reel from down South to the Upper West Side. The Strugglers stripped down, sedate sound provide a nice reflection of place; that is, the U.S. of A.
Hilotrons
Apparently, in Michigan at least, spring is refusing to be sprung, so the only thing to do is get happy. Canadian bands, especially those not from BC, have extra special cred in this regard as their weather is even worse than ours. Hence Hilotrons, of Ottawa. Fun fun weird fun — lousy, whiny vocals, heavy 80s-ish synth, bouncy, boppy awesome blast. I’ve been spinning their new release, Happymatic at home a lot, and darn if it ain’t working! Alas, I can only offer an excellently representative minute and a half (“Dominika”) for free and legal download; check out the mySpace, buy the album, whatever it takes to get happy, it’s worth it.
The Black Hollies
Here’s a little something I’ve been playing on my radio show for the past few weeks. I really wish more bands did the neo-psychedelic sound. It’s a sound I’m quite fond of, a sound that I felt I found on my own when I was fourteen years old, old enough finally to ride my bike (uphill both ways!) to Camel Records or Music Market to dig through rows of records searching for The Three O’Clock albums that came out before Sixteen Tambourines, a record I heard in the back of a friend’s van heading south on Pacific Coast Highway on our way to a church dance in Newport Beach. And while The Black Hollies sound more like The Seeds than The Three O’Clock, I dig their way-back sound. As you can tell it takes me way back to when the Sixties were twenty years past, not forty.
We Are Standard
Before you download “On the Floor” from this group of Spain-bred English-speakers that have already invaded Europe and, if their wishes come true, will invade the United States next, you might want to hop into your Mini Cooper and drive back to 2002. We Are Standard’s brand of art-school-post-punk-cool-geek music—they cover “Waiting for the Man” for crying out loud—reached its high water mark around that time, with all of the “The” bands (Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Moldy Peaches, Hives) selling records and getting airplay on terrestrial radio (remember terrestrial radio? You didn’t even have to pay for it!). That’s not to say that they don’t sound good today. On the contrary, lead singer Deu Chacartequi almost makes me believe he really is both a sex symbol and a rock star. The thing that keeps such hubris from being too nostalgic and goofy is that you get the sense that he doesn’t quite believe it himself. But he does a little.
The Felice Brothers
The Felice Brothers seem to have a good time spinning out bizarre, wistful Bob Dylan-esque songs about deals gone wrong and inevitably bad relationships. The sloppy fun of “Frankie’s Gun!” makes me wish I’d been in that studio, banging on something, making some noise as the tape rolled. Made up of three actual brothers from the Catskills — Simone, Ian and James Felice — plus “a 19 year old called Christmas,” according to the press info, these guys don’t mind playing a wrong not or two. It’s the thought that counts, right? And their thoughts seem as pure and sincere as a streetcorner singer in the middle of summer, telling everyone how it is.