Album Review: All Saints’ Day by The New Heaven and The New Earth

I didn’t know there was an old heaven and an old earth before I reached the new ones with the unexpected album All Saints’ Day released in 2009. This collection of six songs handles itself much like a stranger at a street fair, propelled on by it’s hunger and emptiness, yet tragically beautiful as a natural beast that is perpetually stuck. They sing as if they have found scraps for dinner, and eat, all the while knowing it’s rotten. The cellos shift gracefully as only a bleeding heart can shift through moments and days and years. Accompanied by beautiful chords and simple slow beats, portraits of low poignant freckles of time frozen by myth and melody. It is sad, luring, and yet still shines light, demonstrating the delicate partnership between hope and fear.

Noah, the first track gives a powerful kick start to the album and is a mix between a 70’s acid trip and a Sunday afternoon at church. The cellos and angelic background choir give it a forceful yet graceful balance that sets the stage for the rest of the songs. It almost sounds as if it starts out in the middle of the track which gave little room for a climax, however, the whole 3 minutes is dramatic through the breezy vocals and harmonies.

Dry Stalk lives up to its name and instantly sounds like it is off of The Royal Tenebaum’s soundtrack. It is dry and slow in an interesting and offbeat way that tells of a slowly recovering heartache. The male backing vocals are a perfect choice in this short (2 and a half minutes!) track, packing a certain quality I can’t put my finger on. They sing “do-do-do-do-doo” with a shy awkward tinge – reminiscent perhaps of someone with incredible talents that is overshadowed by perceived imperfections. Its modest instruments and melodies create such sympathy for the dried up used stalk of a man, while the bells and chorus give hope, only to be dashed on contradiction and held together by its own sick cycle.

Simon sounds like second wind extension to its previous neighboring track. It starts out with tambourine shakes and the choir crying out with pain like flailing souls trapped half in the sand. This nearly five minute song provides some of the most interesting and well done vocals on the album. They don’t shake in syllables but in whole, each word ending like a cliff, mountains filling up even my mouth. The song progression is like a roller coaster, allowing the vocals to take stage as a harpsichord, sad organ, and tambourine provide the simple tune throughout the verse, allowing the bridges to provide the sweeping punch of a rooted gospel. Two minutes in, the bells chime and the tambourine is accompanied by chilling lyrics and climaxes into an orchestra of sound where the voices take shape as instruments themselves.

After a long pause, the soft piano starts. Tori Amos and PJ Harvey’s love child climbs through the speakers and leaves the windows open, the cold winter breeze blowing through. St. Valentine is my favorite song and an excellent fourth track to give fresh breath to the album. The shifting sounds and reckless instruments near the end are like ghosts, mindless in their habitual echos. Yet, something beautiful is created and harnessed, leaving a craving after its short two minutes. It is like a lucid dream, haunting and stunning.

With a Mark Lanegan’s guitar and Radiohead’s melodic vocals, Santa Muerte is sad and reflective. It imagines life outside of our present constraints, welcoming the future as a replacement. However hopeful the lyrics might be, the reality is the darkness of the present and the pain of hope. The cellos offer a deep contrast to the guitar melodies and show the depressing acceptance of such a life.

St. Francis highlights a new vocal sound with raspy voice talk telling us “it’s not cocaine”, but its surely something. This haunting final track is simple at the beginning with raising and falling single tones like the bending of the earth. Then the juxtaposition of a strong single tone strum, followed by a pause then a strum, then a pause, then a strum like the forever eventual breaking of the earth. All sprinkled by the pained singing of a burdened soul. The climax is a beautiful collision of every aspect. The symbols crash like the unknowing angry ocean on jagged rocks, like saints finally opening up their wrists to find it’s only their blood in there, “we’re not men, we can’t pretend that we are fish and marry prophets anymore.” Ending in a heavy solo guitar and the sadly building purge of hope and fear and the drugged waltz that all prophets must perfect, dragging all the way up to the earth from heaven.

If you can’t tell, I quit enjoyed this little collection from an artist unknown to me. I listened to it while figuring out my terrifying finances and it even helped keep my blood pressure low. It spreads like depression, heavy in afterglow and calm as a diabetic baking a pie. The short length of Dry Stalk and St. Valentine left me wondering where the rest of the song was and some of the tracks had a little lack of dramatics, but it left a definite good imprint. Overall, it reminds me of Muse – that is in a different state of grief. This is Muse after they get over the anger and find themselves in the purgatory of denial, isolation, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Sirens can be hidden in the keys of a piano and behind the strings of a cello, lighthouses of destruction and beauty that live inside all of us – you know you can relate.

The New Heaven & The New Earth
Simon
http://www.edibleonion.com/media/music/simon.mp3

The New Heaven & The New Earth
St. Valentine
http://www.edibleonion.com/media/music/st-valentine.mp3

(songs used with permission)

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Album Review: Mosques, Museums, and Mausoleums by The Spruce Campbells

Mosques, Museums, and Mausoleums is the first of five or six, 4 song EP‘s. Each EP has its own title, but all are (or rather, will be) collectively called, The Bipolar Coordinates EP’s.

Each EP is to have 2 pairs of songs (for you quick ones out there, that’s a total of 4 songs), with the songs in each pair to have similar themes or styles that bring them together.

I think I’ve listened to these 4 songs more times than the last 4 albums I’ve received or bought combined.  It kind of makes me scared as to what kind of earth-shaking, sheet-clenching, toe-curling orgasm I’m going to have when I listen to the next 4 discs.

actual review after you scroll down and look at the album art…

Black Sunshine is a gorgeous tune that is reminiscent of The Pixies with the soft female lead and a kind of obnoxious male chorus.  I don’t mean that the chorus is bad in any way, I’m just saying Frank Black had an obnoxious voice and this is comparable. Musically however, it is far more complicated than a Pixies tune.  When I heard this song live, it struck me as being more similar to the Dandy Warhol’s, but I get none of that here on the album.  Great song on the album, amazing song to hear live.

More O’s just made me cream my jeans for the umpteenth time.  Everything about this song makes me happy.  There is clapping, and clapping is good.  The transitions from simple and soft to bombastic and crazy is amazing.  The keyboards, guitars, drums, vocals, violin; everything in this makes me want to have sex with the song.  If only that were possible.

So Tired is a Fugazi cover.  Putting a cover song on an album can be hit or miss with some bands; it’s a tribute to a song or band you really like, but if you don’t make it your own, what’s the point?  The best covers tend to sound very different than the originals.  Spruce Campbells manage to make this song their own without drastically changing anything.  It’s a beautiful song, centered around Chelsea Moore’s vocals and keyboard accompaniment (sorry, I’m not sure who was playing the keys).

Far Away is a song that causes complicated emotions in the listener.  It starts with just piano and vocals (Chelsea Moore again, as on every song on this album), then drums and violin join in.  The conversation between the male and female vocalists will strike a chord with anyone who ever felt the need that to just get the hell out of Dodge and leave everything behind.  The song is on one hand sad, but on the other hand kind of hopeful.

Well kids, that ends my review of the Spruce Campbells EP, Mosques, Museums, and Mausoleums.  If you want a mind-blowing experience, check them out live and buy the album.

Other places to hear The Spruce Campbells’ music…
Myspace
Facebook
Bandcamp

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Mini-Review: KOBO

A few weeks ago my buddy Jon of Lackluster (shameless name-drop) asked me if I wanted to go see Historians play a free show at Oldfields on High.  I said, “sure” as I don’t mind Historians and hey, it’s free, ya know?

So we get there and of course it is right smack dab in the middle of OSU’s Senior Crawl.  Like my friend Bridgit would say, it was like I was in the middle of an episode of Jersey Shore that continued for hours.  Are all college girls whores, or just the ones that go out in public?  Ah, but I digress…

We walk in and notice everyone working is wearing Evolved t-shirts.  The place also seemed… different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  Outside smoking a cigarette, I talked to the door-guy and he said the bar was recently bought out and is being renamed, “KOBO.”  I asked him why the name change, as Oldfield’s has been around forever and people recognize it.  He said he didn’t know but I could ask the owner and pointed out a 14-year old kid moving boxes of beer around.

That 14-year old kid is actually Jacob Wooten (who is 26 years old).  He’s a member of the band, The Pinkertone’s and bought Oldfield’s with the owner of Evolved.

To be honest, I was dismayed by the name change and unsure of the direction the place was going to go.  However, I’ve changed my mind and think it’s pretty brilliant.

Kobo means an artist’s work space in Japanese.  The idea behind KOBO is that Wooten wanted to make a bar that caters to bands, not the other way around.  He’s taken down all the beer signs and put up old flyers and posters (many, if not all, seemingly from the old High Five) of local bands.  The shit-beer has been taken off the taps and replaced with imports and micro-brews.  Sound dampening has been installed behind the stage, and in general, the place looks more cleaned up.

He even took out the cable television!  Which is brilliant because even I have found myself being drawn into a T.V. when I should be paying attention to the band on stage.

I think the idea is great, and within 4 years no one will even care that Oldfield’s on High is gone.  I wish KOBO and Wooten the best, and I hope to make it back often.   check out http://www.kobolive.com for more info on upcoming shows.

In other news, that same night I went skinny-dipping for the first time in my life, met some awesome dudes in a band called, Spruce Campbells (seriously, these guys were sweet), and somehow emailed myself something about a band called, “Barker’s Beauties”  which I think may be linked to Spruce Campbells?  I have no idea.  If anyone can help me out with Barker’s Beauties, I would appreciate it.

Album Review: Thick Sticks & Harder Stones by Evan Harris and the Driftwood Motion

Thick Sticks & Harder Stones is a 6 song EP by Evan Harris and the Driftwood Motion.  You probably already got most of that information from the title of this post.  Jeremy Ebert, the bands guitarist, gave me this CD with a little note tucked inside;

“‘thick sticks’ is the product of 3 friends over a 2 week recording period and a 1 week    mixing/celebrating the absurdity of how quickly it all came together….period”
The band, in its current incarnation, consists of Evan Harris, Jeremy Ebert, and Jessica Rabbit. This album also features Gerard Shay on the song Cardinals and Swans.  
Evan: Vocals, Gibson Acoustic, upright bass, ukelele, piano, and organ
Jeremy: Dean Resonator
Jessica: Vocals, Martin Acoustic
Gerard: Mandolin
The Driftwood Motion is one of those bands that are equally great to listen to either on a hot Summer day while sitting on a porch sipping lemonade, or a dark smoke-filled room at night while sipping whiskey and water.

They take elements of bluegrass, folk and  roots rock to create alt-country masterpieces that will make anyone slap their thighs, stomp their feet, and smile at life.  And that isn’t to say that the music is necessarily happy; it’s just that damn good.

Jeremy’s guitar is superb, Evan’s smorgasborg of instruments and lyrics is amazing, and Jessica’s guitar and especially her voice is simply beautiful; she sings lead on only one song, Ah Geeze (What a Mess!), and I really wish I could hear more of her.  Simply put, I want more Jessica Rabbit!

The other five songs are sung by Evan, whose voice is strong and confident, but aggravatingly familiar; you spend more time trying to figure out who he sounds like than listening to what he’s singing about (after listening to the EP about 20 times, I came up with a combination of Mike Ness, John Cougar, and Tom Waits – which would make a terribly ugly baby if the three of them ever somehow managed to mate – but I digress). 

The stand out tracks are The Devil Song, Cardinals & Swans, Ah Geeze (What a Mess!), and Lighter than Dark Days.  The second track, At Least We Still Have What’s Left of Our Health, is good, but doesn’t strike me as much as the previously mentioned songs and track 5, A Birds Year, I can’t seem to get into very much.  The overall feel of the song is terribly depressing (on purpose), but the guitar is what grinds my gears on this one.  The opening acoustic which continues throughout the song just sounds… I hate to say this…. cheesy.  The electric that pops in occasionally provides an almost industrial tone, which is unsettling.  I think that is the best way to describe this song… unsettling.  That could be good or bad, depending on your mood, really.

Overall, I would recommend this to just about anyone.  I mean, I only had one negative thing to say, so that should mean something, right?  I’ve also seen these dudes play live (sans Ms. Rabbit) at a club and in a living room and I recommend attending a live show as well.

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Concert Review: Metric

Emily Haines and Jimmy Shaw of Metric play an ...Image via Wikipedia

Metric tore the roof off the Newport Music Hall Tuesday night.

There are few times in my memory where I’ve been to a concert that was so full of people just happy to be there. The audience was mostly young people, teens and early twenties, who knew every word to every song and were happy to sing a long. The band was all smiles and seemed genuinely gleeful at the attention they received. Emily, the lead vocalist/keyboardist profusely thanked the crowd and even thanked CD101 for “playing us so much, even though they saw ‘Metric, put out by Metric,’ few radio stations would do that.” After the last song, which was an acoustic version of Combat Baby sung by Emily with guitar accompaniment by James Shaw, the rest of the band (bassist Josh Winstead and drummer Joules Scott-Key) came out and bowed before the crowd. They didn’t seem to want to leave and the horde of fans chanted their name long after the house lights came on.

Metric live is LOUD. During Help I’m Alive the bass was so intense the hair on my head was shaking, the change in air pressure caused my ears to pop, and my balls jiggled. Being a fan of bass, I didn’t mind this at all.

The light show was also incredibly intense. A lot of people find the strobe lighting too distracting and actually a bit blinding; once again, I didn’t mind. It was one of the best light shows I’ve seen for any band at the Newport.

Vocalist Emily Haines is one of the best people to just watch. Dang, that sounds creepy. Anyway, she makes ridiculous and hilarious facial expressions, twitches her legs and shoulders, smiles with unadulterated glee, and dances in a herky-jerky way reminiscent of Elaine from Seinfeld. She would hold her arms out in front of her and stomp in place like the classic Frankenstein monster. In short, she was fun. I haven’t smiled so much just watching someone since… well ever, I think.

Jimmy Shaw (can I call you “Jimmy?”) looks like a young, well-dressed Bruce Springsteen, but unlike old Bruce, Shaw can shred some guitar licks. I never really knew this until I saw the live show and witnessed three of his solo’s. He isn’t Eddie Van Halen or Tom Morello, but he ripped it up.

Winstead, as most bassists are, seemed the most enigmatic of the group; staying to one side of the stage, kind of out of the lights. Like I said before, the bass was amazing at this show and he’s the one to thank. Because of a bad view (an amazon lesbian with a HUGE bag was in my way), I couldn’t tell what kind of style he used to play; pick, slap, combination, whatever. Either way, it worked out great.

The drums were hard-pounding. Scott-Key beat the shit out of those drums. And the best part was he was grinning like a madman for most of the set.

The entire set sounded tight and on; I didn’t notice any mistakes or false-starts, or anything.

The crowd really ate it up. The band was all smiles too. They obviously relished the attention, but not in a pretentious or arrogant way; they seemed genuinely surprised and humble at the love they received from the crowd; a refreshing change of pace from bands that seem to just go through the motions.

Here is Twilight Galaxy from the Newport show. Starting around the 6 minute mark, it turns into some headbanging craziness. Not too much of that from the crowd of mostly young well-dressed women, but you’d have been surprised. I wanted more videos of the show because there were many instances of slow and sweet immediately crushed by heavy and pounding. Good contrasts.

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Love Songs

Except for when I was a child and listened and liked everything I heard on the radio (like all children); I have never, until recently, enjoyed love songs. During my teenage years and most of my twenties, I couldn’t stand love songs. I thought they were vapid and shallow and for people who didn’t understand real music or real emotion.
It wasn’t until recently that I finally understood. Love songs became the majority of music I found myself listening to. I discovered that I was the one who was vapid, shallow, and with no understanding of true emotion.
I’ve discovered that love entails a lot of distress, a lot of pain, and a lot of crying. For some peeps, this leads to anger, frustration and depression. For others, it leads to happiness, understanding, and enlightenment. The feeling of love is being alive and living. One does not have to be in love with another person; it’s really about whatever makes you happiest. Music, as an art form, is subject to interpretation by the receiving audience, with guidance from the artist. As such, a simple love song takes on far deeper connotations; metaphors and similes can burst out and take on new meanings.
Knowing this, I walk the streets of my city and see so many dead people. Zombies who live day to day, struggling desperately not to feel any pain – but in so doing, they end up not feeling anything but dull melancholic sadness.
But I also see those who have what I want to achieve for myself; passion, joy, happiness. And this makes me smile. It makes me want to be a better person. It makes me happy. It brings me home.

And don’t worry, I will be back to write fire and brimstone reviews of shit-stain bands and the dreck of society once again. Maybe I’ll throw in an interview or two as well. The old da trux hasn’t gone completely soft – in fact, in some ways, he’s even harder than before. Go ahead, make fun of me for liking love songs. You’re missing out.

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