Metal Mondays with Corey Spetifore

Track Review: Wovenwar, "The Mason"

By Corey Spetifore

Before the fires of “All Rise” had a chance to fade away, Wovenwar has unleashed another inferno with the release of their second single, “The Mason.” Weighing in at just over 4 minutes long, the supergroup’s latest track is a delightfully relentless and creative piece of work, carrying a deeper, darker tone than the aforementioned single yet already demonstrating similarities in overall sound and musical content, which is on a fast track to becoming a signature sound for this group of fine musicians.

More or less, this song is a battle cry telling an all-too familiar tale of defeat, loss, and despair, and the reality of overcoming these personal demons. Wovenwar immediately attacks with suspenseful ferocity, displaying a grooving, arpeggiated riffing of all instruments that gives way to a resounding chord progression highlighted by the lead guitar’s artfully applied licks. Similar to “All Rise,” “The Mason” briefly backs off for the entrance of the vocal line, and reloads for the next round of ammunition to be fired in the pre-chorus. “And I, I have caved in,” chants Blay, “but I’m building from the wreckage,” lyrics which – intended or not – subtly and respectfully salute the remains of As I Lay Dying from which Blay’s fellow musicians have risen after the shocking conviction of ex-vocalist Tim Lambesis. The chorus borrows the same riff as found in the intro but also houses a second vocal line accompanying a steady, even-measured lead vocal. What makes this track stand out, however, is the amount of numerous small details tucked away here and there as the song progresses. The second pre-chorus is capped off by an articulate descending rhythm guitar and bass which slides effortlessly into the second chorus, which is not only longer than the first but also contains a more exacerbated lead melody. This continually building sense of emotion is further developed through a texturized bridge of 32^nd-note strumming and finally released in a cut-time, head-banging breakdown, accompanied by no more than two screamed syllables, adding to the effect of desperation the song aims for. The final chorus again switches up its lead melody as preparation for an otherwise unexpected and modulated outro, leaving the listener in awe of the uncanny combination of near-mathematical songwriting and elements of spontaneity. With adept musicality and finesse, “The Mason” has laid the ideal foundation for Wovenwar’s self-titled LP, dropping August 3^rd, 2014.

Review: Jack White, Lazaretto

By Emmett H Robinson Smith

Jack White has been known for his ability to churn out song after song without even thinking about it. The documentary It Might Get Loud shows White composing a song in about five minutes, and the result is impressive. So, for a guy with a knack for creating large amounts of quality material in a short time slot, it’s disappointing to discover what a mixed bag his new album Lazaretto is.

            Ever the creative, White wowed the public with his unorthodox promotion for the album. The title track is now the fastest record ever released, and the “Ultra LP” vinyl edition features a hologram that appears when the record is played. In this respect, White went the extra mile in unconventional musical practice, and as the hologram is only one of the many little tricks on the “Ultra LP” edition, it’s apparent that the “Ultra LP” is the best way to experience the work. However, for all its bells and whistles, Lazaretto ultimately falls short musically, especially in the context of the brilliant marketing strategies for the vinyl.

            The first half of White’s second solo full-length makes the album. On the opener “Three Women”, he expands on classic blues chord progressions by adding elaborate instrumentation: Female backup vocals, guitar, bass, organ, piano, and a busy riff performed by different instruments at different times. Musically, it’s an exciting introduction, but it’s a shame that the lyrics aren’t even in the same ballpark: “I got three women / red, blonde, and brunette” White boasts. If he’s trying to spite his ex-bandmate-and-wife Meg, it sounds more desperate than anything. The chorus consists of “Lawdy lawd” repeated ad nauseum, and it wears thin quickly. For its lyrical limitations, however, “Three Women” makes for a solid track one, and is a good lead into highlight track “Lazaretto”. Contrastingly, it’s one of the strongest tracks lyrically, and is arguably the best song on the album. Reminiscent of the blazing “Sixteen Saltines” from his 2012 solo effort Blunderbuss, it’s a high-energy banger, full of dirty guitar and relentless drums that echo Meg’s style. Jack White sounds especially invigorated: “Even God herself has fewer plans than me”, he spits into the mic. And the way he delivers it, one can’t help but believe him. It’s not perfect, though. This barn-burner gives way to a fiddle solo that Spin magazine used the perfect word for: limp. The solo is limp indeed; it’s a buzz kill, and it reflects how much of Lazaretto is sullied by feeble country attempts.

            As Blunderbuss showed, White had become more interested in a country/folk sound than ever before, and Lazaretto is even more fiddle-fueled than its predecessor. This move is confounding for White Stripes fans, and it pushes him more to the margins of relevance in the musical landscape than ever before. “Entitlement” is musically stale because it sounds like just about any other sombre, down-tempo rustic country tune. White questions who deserves what in life, and compares the youth of today to Caesar in their feelings of entitlement. The song sounds like it was written by a sadsack teenager – and it probably was. White reportedly derived inspiration for some of the album from writings he created when he was nineteen years old. “Entitlement” just one constituent of the surprisingly large group of country songs on the album that isn’t up to snuff not only compared to Lazaretto’s rock songs, but especially compared to calibre of White’s previous rock-based discography. If Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi and company had performed Lazaretto’s “Just One Drink” in between “Theme from Rawhide” and “Stand By Your Man” during the country bar scene in the Blues Brothers it would have been a knockout – that’s how cliché it is.

            As was the case with Blunderbuss, Jack White is at his best when he commits to his rock side. “Lazaretto” and “Would You Fight for My Love?” are exemplary in showcasing White’s musical integrity. They stay true to his sound as the White Stripes frontman but are still fresh because, when White is at his best, as he is on these two tracks, nobody does it better than him. However, with the approximate 50/50 split on Lazaretto between rock and country, it seems that White himself has trepidations about his musical explorations. It’s almost as if he knows that he does rock better than anything else, and he uses songs like “Lazaretto” and “Would You Fight for My Love?” as compensation for his lukewarm country efforts. These two tracks aren’t anything unique by his standards, however, and the fact that they’re the album’s highlights begs the question: Has Jack White said all he needs to say as a musician? We’ve seen it before with other hugely successful artists – Eminem is a prime example. Both of these men drastically altered the musical landscape for the better relatively early in their careers, but are evidently struggling to keep their relevance intact.

            Jack White will never falter so much as to put his career at risk – he’s too much of a legendary figure in modern rock for that to happen. His following is as strong as ever, and one can only bet that it will continue to grow as adolescent after adolescent discovers “Seven Nation Army” for the first time. However, the childish brashness that was so revitalizing and compelling in releases like “Elephant” and “White Blood Cells” is gone for the most part on White’s most recent effort. There’s no question that he’s matured as a musician and a songwriter, but, as has been the case with many artists before him, this maturation is not necessarily a good thing. 

Review: Parquet Courts, Sunbathing Animal

By Emmett H Robinson Smith

2013 was, for music, a year of grand-scale, bold statements from many artists. Deafheaven took widescreen black metal to new heights, prevalent alt bands Vampire Weekend and Arcade Fire took courageous steps in new musical directions, the latter producing a whopping double album from their efforts. Daft Punk altered the entire mainstream EDM landscape with their disco-themed album, Beyoncé surprised nearly everybody with her sprawling, unconventional pop/R&B album, and artists such as Chance the Rapper and Kanye West rewrote the rules of hip-hop. Conversely, Parquet Courts’ 2013 album Light Up Gold was comparatively small in scope and unambitious in its goals. The album was a fast, 15-track, 33-minute listen in which Andrew Savage sung/talked about things like being stoned in a convenience store and the mundane contents of his pocket.

            Parquet Courts’ sound lies somewhere between early Green Day, the Strokes and Pixies. They demonstrate hints of garage punk but keep it light with their peppy guitars and honest, often funny lyrics. On Sunbathing Animal, their sound is more realized, in part due to the more realized nature of the actual songs. Seven of Light Up Gold’s tracks were under two minutes apiece, which created a jittery, coffee-fueled ADD listen – which is not necessarily a bad thing. Even the song titles were cheekily abbreviated: “Yr No Stoner” and “N Dakota” to name a couple. Sunbathing Animal offers only two songs whose length spans less than two minutes each, and the tracks sound more like actual compositions than anything on Light Up Gold. For example, “Black and White” begins with a simple guitar strumming. Drums and bass gradually crowd the sound, and eventually hand claps and what sounds like a washboard complete the percussive arrangement of the tune.  It’s a half-minute intro, but for a band once seemingly dedicated to many instruments starting simultaneously, these thirty seconds seem like a lifetime. Feedback-drenched guitar enters just after vocalist Andrew Savage begins to sing. More feedback is added after verse two, as is pure static. These additions may not seem like much, but here Parquet Courts sound more like songwriters than they have before.

            Sunbathing Animal’s biggest strength is its lyrics. The album’s centrepiece, “Instant Disassembly”, is a comparatively down-tempo seven-minute lyrical epic that sounds like it should be included as music for the ending credits of The Big Lebowski. It features Savage confessing about damn near everything: “Mamasita, tie me loose as I flee / Oh, it seems that you’ve got a spotlight / Cast on the dark side of me / I feel a pain so acute like I’m being impaled / And I can’t breathe, can’t breathe, it’s hard to inhale.” “Instant Disassembly” is full of weighty verses such as this, and its musical repetition advocates the significance of the song’s lyrics. It’s a song made for multiple listens, and a plethora of interpretations are no doubt welcome. Compared to songs about being “stoned and starving”, Parquet Courts reach new depths not only musically but lyrically as well.

            This is not to say that the band has turned into a self-serious group; the tunes are even more head-bobbing than before, and the tracklist is arranged to highlight the musical contrasts. Take the fast “Ducking & Dodging”, for example. A tense one-note bassline and a simple kick/snare pattern accompany Savage singing about, in his words, “fear and feeling that you can’t be yourself and that you don’t even really have a home.” Although the lyrics occupy a similar dark space to its predecessor “Instant Disassembly”, the musical contrast is blatant – especially once Savage sings “That key you’ve got won’t fit this lock no more” and a Ramones-y guitar riff kicks in. The album has plenty of pacing strategies and musical distinctions such as this, and it showcases the band thinking of an album as one piece of work rather than a collection of individual songs.

            Sunbathing Animal is more of an album, in the true sense of the word, than anything Parquet Courts has created before, and the result is satisfying. The songs cut deeper, and the pacing of the album enhances the musical differences between songs. The lyrics are the focus on the bulk of the album, but this attention to text does not detract from the catchy punk riffs that the band is known for. It’s a personal triumph for these guys, and for the band to take such big steps as songwriters here, one can’t help but wonder what Parquet Courts has up its sleeve for next time.

Metal Mondays with Corey Spetifore

Track Review: Wovenwar, "All Rise"

By Corey Spetifore

It is not often that a brand new metal band attracts a great deal of attention right out of the gate.

However, a certain supergroup out of San Diego, California is slashing that trend before the eyes of many and basking in the spotlight of pure, unadulterated metal.

The quartet of As I Lay Dying instrumentalists have joined forces with Oh, Sleeper vocalist Shane Blay to form Wovenwar, a tactful metal powerhouse that is effectively sweeping the modern metal scene. Brandishing a unique sound that challenges their numerous contemporaries, Wovenwar, formed under a year ago, has already promised the release of a full-length album this summer on Metal Blade Records. With expectation and skepticism mounting, the public has been treated to “All Rise”, the very first sample of the band’s craftsmanship. As their single has instantly nabbed chart positions on iTunes and is enjoying mainstream success, Wovenwar continues to perpetuate the hype surrounding them.

Produced by Bill Stevenson (As I Lay Dying, NOFX, Rise Against), “All Rise” shows no mercy upon the listener, unleashing a thundering double kick drum beat which backs up methodically chugging rhythm guitars and a blitzing, melodic guitar solo, recalling the ballsy shredding of 80’s metal; an assertive, full-throttle atmosphere is exuded, demanding the listener’s full attention. Following the explosive opening, the song quickly retreats from the fairly upbeat tempo it began with and utilizes half-time to introduce the verse, making way for the soaring, sung vocals of Mr. Blay himself. Although nowadays atypical to metal, the very presence of clean vocals immediately makes the song – and moreover, the genre – more accessible to a larger demographic without sacrificing any content. From the verse, the track enjoys a large yet seamless crescendo into a modulated chorus with a massive sound, with the beat switching back to opening tempo and the second guitar providing open-tapping texture over top of thriving power chords. This integration of a radically different second theme for a chorus shows adept concentration, conscious musicality and mostly, Wovenwar’s will to carve out a completely unique style for themselves; currently, no bands of the genre offer anything similar or remotely comparable to this sound, as elements of metalcore, heavy metal, post-hardcore and punk are blended together in razor-sharp production to form a colossal front. There is little respite during the track’s nearly 4 minute long duration, breaking shortly only for a fiery, rat-a-tat breakdown lead by snare fills before leading into the final chorus via an airy and open-structured bridge. For a debut effort from a “meeting of the minds” and from a musical standpoint, “All Rise” is greatly impressive and an absolute thrill to listen to. The contrast demonstrated in this single provides a marvelous sense of balance between power and restraint, showing you can be metal and musical, and leads us to believe that Wovenwar has only given us the smallest taste of the larger entrée expected later this summer.

Review: The Black Keys, Turn Blue

By Emmett H Robinson Smith

Since the release of El Camino, which turns three years old this coming December, Akron duo the Black Keys have been through a lot. Patrick Carney, the outspoken Keys drummer, found himself confronted on Twitter by millions of adolescent Justin Bieber fans for his words about the controversial pop star. Perhaps more significantly, however, Dan Auerbach, the arguable brains behind the Keys operation, went through a divorce, and it shows on the band’s new album Turn Blue. His lyrics on the LP are more full of “woman trouble” subject matter than ever. “Looking back on where we used to be / Everything was clear, but still I refused to see / Hearts began to rust / The diamond turned to dust” Auerbach admits on “Bullet in the Brain”. Indeed, blue is the operative mood on the bulk of the album’s tracks.

El Camino was the sound of a group struggling to find a balance between staying true to their roots as old-school blues-rock artists and bolstering their newfound popularity, mainly due to the excellent single “Tighten Up” from their sprawlingly diverse 2010 album Brothers. El Camino was a tight, unified, albeit safe, and at times tepid, collection of songs that leaned more towards the mainstream than the Keys ever had before: Auerbach called the album “too manicured” in a recent Rolling Stone interview. Thusly, it’s exciting to hear the duo explore new styles and instrumentation on their latest effort. The epic “Weight of Love” is the bold album opener, and it becomes clear almost immediately that new musical directions will be a feature. A whistling, ghostly organ and pinging bells help to create a lush, richly textured soundscape that complements the haunting melody of the chorus. The song’s sheer length – 6:50 – is significant in itself, as the Black Keys aren’t known for making tracks much longer than four minutes apiece.

Much of the credit for the musicality of Turn Blue can be given to Brian Burton, a.k.a. Danger Mouse, who has produced their last four albums to varying effect. On this project however, it sounds as though the visions of both parties have found a way to play off each other in a natural way. The classic blues riffs of the Keys’ earlier albums are still intact, but are made to sound fresh with spacey, echoing accompaniment. Take the title track, for instance. Auerbach’s bluesy riff is complemented with booming toms, crescendoing strings and a quickly repeating one-note bass line.  This is a prime example of the successful marriage between Burton’s and the Black Keys’ ideas.

Things do get sluggish in the middle of the album. “Year In Review” is an overly monochromatic throwaway which features Auerbach vaguely lamenting his women troubles with very general lines as a result: “You don't wanna know more/And you've been down this road before/So leave it alone/Just leave it alone”. The more serious problem here, though, is the monotony of the tune. The verse and chorus melody is on the same note, which, by the two-minute mark, becomes tiresome, and, worse, annoying. “It’s Up to You Now” inexplicably takes a turn for the lethargic worse after the up-tempo riff becomes exhausted. You can almost hear the Keys thinking, “okay, it’s getting boring. We should probably change it here”.

However, Turn Blue’s final batch of songs is strong. “Waiting on Words” is an old-school Who-like ballad, and Auerbach’s falsetto sounds gorgeous over the delicate chord progressions of the chorus. “In Our Prime” begins surprisingly stripped down compared to many other tracks on the album, and there are hints of blues guitar that creep into a groove which has the Beatles written all over it. However, the song builds into a blazing guitar-and-organ-solo epic, complete with a string section and mallets. Auerbach’s lyrics are particularly strong here, too, and carry a nostalgic tone that plays strongly to the placement of the song as one of the album’s final tracks: “Like every lover hovers in my mind / We made our mark when we were in our prime / The house, it burned, but nothing there was mine / We had it all when we were in our prime”, he sings.

One of the most musically courageous and exciting releases of 2013, Kanye West’s Yeezus, was for the most part an assault of harsh, industrial “hip-hop”, to use the term very loosely. However, the final track took listeners by surprise: In the context of an album so dedicated to pushing the boundaries of conventional hip-hop, the last song, “Bound 2”, was a ray of light at the end of the tunnel. It was classic Kanye, featuring his staple soul-sampling which made him so popular in the first place, as well as his trademark simple, wry lyrics. This phenomenon is mirrored in Turn Blue. With their most musically explorative collection to date, they end the album with a blast of retro, balls-out rock n’ roll in “Gotta Get Away”. It’s El Camino again, but tighter, more singable, and more cruise-down-the-highway-with-your-speakers-blasting, which makes for a hugely effective closer for a work that is largely a textural “headphones album”. It’s a satisfying ending that tells us that the Keys aren’t taking themselves too seriously, and that they still know how to rock in the classic sense of the word.

The Black Keys have created something special with Turn Blue, with a huge help from producer Brian Burton. The arrangements are rich and beguiling, and Auerbach’s lyrics shine through with this accompaniment. Despite some missteps, the duo has taken a bold step in a new direction without sacrificing their roots. The Black Keys are back.

Review: Mac Demarco, Salad Days

By Emmett H Robinson Smith

Mac Demarco doesn't ease into his new album Salad Days. The full-band jam all begins at once, and the first few seconds of the album give the impression of being right in the middle of things. It seems, in fact, to pick up where his 2012 album 2 left off. The same tinny, airy guitars are as prominent in Salad Days as they were on 2, as is the don't-worry-too-much-about-your-life-problems motif. The rather morbid opening lines, "As I'm getting older, chip upon my shoulder / Rolling through life, to roll over and die" are tossed off so matter-of-factly that if you didn't know English you'd figure that Mac was talking about something as innocuous as putting his socks on. 

There aren’t many musical departures on this album, but that isn’t the point of Mac’s music. In this respect, he can be seen as a somewhat alternative counterpart to Jack Johnson: Both artists are masters of the accessible, easygoing groove. As an Entertainment Weekly reviewer wrote about Johnson’s 2005 album In Between Dreams, which is applicable to Salad Days as well, “He’s so laid-back, it’s hard to tell when he’s worked up.” However, the relative lack of musical exploration and emotional diversity is in part what makes Mac’s music so compelling. It serves to complement his lyrics, which are wry, simple, and universal: “Treat her better, boy / If havin’ her at your side’s something you enjoy / If havin’ her in your life’s really so important to you now”, he sings in highlight track “Treat Her Better”. To accompany these honest, unpretentious lyrics with intricately complex musical arrangements would defeat their purpose.

Things take a slight musical turn in the tune “Passing Out Pieces”, in which a shimmering, accordion-like synthesizer complements a once again worry-free groove. The trademark guitars are still a feature, as is Mac’s nonchalant tongue-in-cheek singing. But that accordion is about as weird as it gets on Salad Days, which amplifies the concise, focussed nature of the 11-track work he has created here. The songs aren’t hugely diverse, but they’re different enough that the album sets and maintains a relaxed mood without it getting tiresome.

The album closes with a humble statement from Mac: “Hi guys, this is Mac, thank-you for joining me, see you again soon, buh-bye.” This heartwarming, smile-inducing final thought is significant in the context of the album. If there’s a time when our problems seem to vastly outweigh our solutions in life, it’s valuable to have a guy like Mac telling us not to take anything too seriously. And, it’s reassuring to know that it isn’t the last we’ve heard from this chilled-out dude.

Review: Wild Beasts, Present Tense

By Emmett H Robinson Smith

The title is no joke: From the very first unsettling drum hits of Present Tense, the new album from Wild Beasts, it's clear that this is an album sure to be packed with turbulence. By the time you notice the swirl of the operatic synthesizer, you're surrounded. Hayden Thorpe's lyrics in this song, "Wanderlust", are both defiant and powerful: he knows he's pulled you in. "Now that you answer to me/I'll tell you how I want to feel", he sings.

What's perhaps most striking about Present Tense, among many other things, is the band's ability to sound at once primal and futuristic. In an interview with FaceCulture, Thorpe said that computers yield “great possibilities, but with great possibilities comes great danger”. So it makes sense that the man himself is struggling to find an artistically viable balance between the natural and the technological. Take, for example, "Nature Boy", the album's second track. The song begins with tribal, mesmerizing bongos and a single tremulous synth. However, these ever-present elements soon are assaulted by a decaying, lower-register synth blast. The percussion begins to clatter and harmonious backup vocals join in to complement Tom Fleming's lush baritone. The song unfolds itself until a perfect, richly layered storm is concocted. This internal contradiction between the primal and the futuristic is in and of itself tension-inducing, further playing to the album's title.

                Fleming described the album as “a response to the overload of information we get today”. This is embodied in songs like “Daughters”, in which a relentless shaker-inflected percussion beat doesn’t let up over the course of the song. This sparse instrumentation becomes gently crowded with other elements: echoey voices, the odd hi-hat, and richly layered string synthesizers. However, the song’s feeling of bareness and vulnerability in the face of intricate instrumentation is what gives Fleming’s comment so much significance. In an age where we hide behind tweets and facebook photos, our sense of vulnerability and nakedness is at an all-time high.

                What is perhaps the album’s mantra can be seen in a later track, “Past Perfect”. We see Wild Beasts utilizing a retro Daft Punk-y rhythm guitar that the electronic duo made so massive with last year’s Random Access Memories.  However, Thorpe seems to carry more qualms about this revival of the past: “It’s tense for me / can’t live within a memory” he moans. This subtle addition of rhythm guitar is part of what makes the album such a cohesive listening experience, despite its contradictions: The past is present; that is, it is being used in the present tense. The band’s members are indeed presently tense about it, but they seem to find – presently at least – some sense of tranquility about this revival in the album closer, “Palace”. The plinking guitar and nostalgic synth arrangement complements Thorpe’s words of acceptance: “We may be savage and raw, but at the core we’ve higher needs”. Wild Beasts has created a work that uses this savage rawness to its utmost effect by courageously pairing it with progressive, luxurious “computer music”. The result is an impressively compact (40:55!), hugely replayable, tumultuous album.