Pianos Become the Teeth – Old Pride
The comparisons are inevitable. A post-rock influenced screamo band with floor-rattling screams… they must be channeling some City of Caterpillar or Envy in there, right? Well, yes and no. Pianos Become the Teeth, a local band out of Baltimore, have created a defining record in Old Pride, but it’s hard to say whether or not they exert enough effort to truly separate and define themselves from their influences. The quintet have found a nice, cozy spot among the complex instrumentation, frenzied screams, and overall feverish nature on Old Pride. While it would be splendid to ramble on about all the things that make Old Pride spectacular, it’s very difficult due to the glaring faults (as small as they may be when compared to the bigger, brighter, not to mention more intense, picture). This is most definitely because Pianos Become the Teeth are capable of a better quality record, and while Old Pride is an undeniably excellent showing, it’s flaws become all the more obvious because of the great potential hiding here.
A cinematic quality is ever-present on Rinoa’s 2010 release, An Age Among Them. While it’s hard to pin the band under a specific genre, Rinoa elicits feelings altogether epic and uplifting, expansive and heavy. Please excuse the disparate descriptions, but An Age Among Them induces the desire to spew a flurry of adjectives from my mouth, as the album commands interest and enthusiasm. An Age Among Them is certainly not a release to take lightly; it becomes evident mere minutes into “Past Maidens” that Rinoa, for better or for worse, are extremely impassioned. An exuberant listen from beginning to end, An Age Among Them provides the soundtrack to something more than a simple set of emotions. The feelings that Rinoa bring forth are neither simple nor straightforward. Instead, the album provides a rich, complex, borderline cinematic context that provides the album with an interesting quality that sets apart this excellent release from its neighbors.
“This is a song for anyone with a broken heart.”
Most of my favorite records are what I would call “growers.” While it’s easy to write off records on the first listen, it can be much more gratifying to offer second chances. Sometimes, it doesn’t catch on for a while. Even my favorite record of all time, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea *ahem*, sat gathering dust for years before I gave it a few more tries and began to realize its utter brilliance. I’ll admit, while the Bon Iver comparison surely helped, it was really the graceful, interesting album art that made me want to hear The Antlers’ Hospice. When I sat down and finally gave it a listen, I was sorely disappointed. Hospice was boring. Sad?- sure. But engaging?- not even close. “Wake” dragged on. “Kettering” was a bore. Half the songs felt skippable. As time went on I realized just how wrong I was. It took an embarrassing five or so more listens before I began to feel like an idiot for not realizing the genius and finesse that is embodied with Hopsice.
My favorite time to ponder life is right before I go to sleep. I wouldn’t describe it as full-on meditating, but I love tracking down some suitable music, grabbing my brand new headphones (Sennheisers for Christmas, what else?), and just concentrating on what comes to mind. Albums- usually post-rock – have come and gone as my staple listening material for this crucial point of my day. Lift Your Skinny Fists, Enjoy Eternal Bliss, Spiderland, and The Glow Pt. 2 have all graced the top ranks of these “near-sleeping albums” with their presence. I wish I could tell you that Polar Life is just as amazing no matter when it penetrates your cranium; but for me, it’s not. Because of its intrinsically pleasing nature and the eeriness about Sleepingdog’s Polar Life, I’ve found it to be extremely suitable for this particular facet of my life. Sleepingdog achieves a rare quality throughout Polar Life– making a very slow-paced and calming record while maintaining the same level of absorption. Instead of extravagance and production being the vessel that allows Chantel Acda a pathway to utter serenity, Polar Life subscribes to a sense of purity and simplicity. The album in its entirety feels untainted and it allows Acda to sing (with her slight Belgian accent) songs that create a wide, clear soundscape- as pure as snow. While acceding to this particular order, the absolute chillness on Polar Life is achieved predominately through two different methods.
Anybody who listens to music frequently is destined to be asked the question, “Hey, where do I go next?” by the less experienced listener. Now, by no means am I pretentiously promoting my own listening habits. Though, I think we all have at least one album that we can swear produces instant satisfaction. Do I go to Radiohead, Brand New, Opeth, Thrice, or another cliché universal Sputnik favorite? No, well how about Elliott Smith? Close, I go with his earlier band, Heatmiser, and their final album, Mic City Sons. Immediately gratifying, beautiful lyrics and pleasant melodies are always major advantages when recommending music.
Do you ever wish you could just sit down with a band and talk with them about their record? You know, get a little more insight into their inspiration, their connections, their sentiments. I know I have many times…
I was sitting in a friend’s dorm the other day with approximately 4 or 5 other people when a startling yet predictable phenomenon occurred. None of us were paying any particular attention to the background music that was playing from an adjacent computer. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, each one of us began to sing, move, and hum, all in harmony and melody with each other. The results were almost frightening, and it took each of us off guard considering we had not planned this in any way. What could have caused this strange event, you say? Yes, it was none other than “Semi- Charmed Life” resounding around the room. Scientists have been baffled for years by this phenomenon. Studies show that it is physically impossible to not join into the music when subjects hear that doo-doo-doo, du, du-du-du-doooo off the beginning of “Semi-Charmed Life.” While I give Third Eye Blind some credit for wanting to recreate that same mystique they managed to develop so well on their self-titled, I’m also a little sad at how they failed to do so and in turn put a little blemish on their legacy. Ursa Major, the first release of their two-disc set, isn’t a horrible record by any means, but it is a blight on that alternative band that you sang along to so many summer nights.
As individuals that are often very fervent and passionate about music, it’s easy to underestimate the value of pure, unadulterated, enjoyability. It’s by no means a simple quality to convey, and certainly doesn’t take anything away from the music, but, simply put: what is complex often takes precedence over the simple in the world of those passionate about music and vice versa in the mainstream. Sadly, this leads us to sometimes forget about those greats that simply evoke emotion, whether it be through a cliché style or through means we’re so used to hearing.
Broken Social Scene have never been a band to go lightly on extravagance. The Canadian conglomerate of a band that began with 2 art-rockers quickly grew into a joint mish-mash of indie all-stars from a wide scope. With the sexy songstresses from Stars and Metric, it’s also worth mentioning that Broken Social Scene probably have one of the prettiest rock line-ups (sorry, Hayley Williams). This assortment of indie royalty grants Broken Social Scene the ability to experiment a little, and rarely do they pass up this opportunity. Forgiveness Rock Record is a rich display of Broken Social Scene’s many talents and areas of interest, from blaring horns sections to lighter pieces where Emily Hainses’ soft voice is most prominent. Yes, it’s also probably not too far from what you’re expecting to hear if you were one of the vehement fans of You Forgot It In People (then again, fans indifferent to YFIIP are few and far between). And in no way can you count this steady, tranquil progression against Broken Social Scene. Forgiveness Rock Record may not grant many gasps in shock and awe, but the group’s latest is sure to leave the rest of 2010 a target to catch up to as far as indie goes.