THE MITCHELLS

Small Batch Records

The Secret Sounds

10-song CD

This is by far one of the best releases I’ve heard this year, though in a spiteful mood I’m at least tempted to ask whether the Cure, U2, Time Toy, et al., didn’t already adequately cover this tortured bright-eyed mysterioso-indie terrain some 27 years ago? And also whether the whole quirky thing isn’t getting a bit long in the tooth? Toneless vocals, angular flattened-affect instrumentals, odd time signatures: they were novel once; they seem a bit redundant now. The adage “Make it new” means that one should take something old and make it over anew, not merely recapitulate it. That said, there are many touches of subtle grandeur on this collection—”Brand Loyalty” has a lovely instrumental passage; “Dropped Ceiling” has a strangely compelling chorus; there are brilliant percussive touches on “Under Blurry Stars.” Furthermore, the lyrics are always incisive and literate. One tune I find utterly compelling is “All the Frail Things”; it makes me think the band might be onto something—if they downplay eccentricity for the sake of staking out an already burned-over territory, and focus instead on writing songs that truly stand out simply because they are well-wrought and memorable in their own right. (Francis DiMenno)

KETMAN

Ketman a Go Go

15-song CD

You’re drunk, your partners’ in crime scream, “We need to be in a Quentin Tarantino movie right fucking now!” They surround you, closing in with ill, possibly violent, intentions. Then you reach in your pocket and pull out your PunkRockaKlezbaBilly defense! The new Ketman a Go Go LP! All of a sudden there’s a Fiji mermaid shaking martinis and slick switchblade pimps sipping sugar skulls in a tiki hell, where the devil ain’t too cool to dance. The songs that pop and slap you in the mouth were created by Eric Penna, Joseph Marrett, and Mora Precarious with horns by Kevin Corzett (sax) and Brian Rutledge (trumpet, trombone). This ain’t no publicly professing orthodoxy, while privately believing heterodoxy—it’s the read deal. So don your blood stained Hawaiian shirt, drive 90 mph to the beach with this screaming loud in the stereo, and Dr. Tumblty guarantees you’ll be fun in the sun. (Dr. Tumblty)

THE INVISIBLE RAYS

Salute the American Popular Song

11-song CD

Way back in issue #247, I blew considerable sunshine up this all-instro band’s ass for one of the finest things I’d heard that whole year, from anywhere. Why it’s not in their website’s meager press section, I have no idea. They do correctly say there that they “use samples from B movies, old radio shows, and news broadcasts in the place of a ‘vocalist’.” And I’m pleased to report that they’ve done it again, and jacked it up some, even. But let’s get a few things straight: There are no American popular songs here (which is fine). The music is all over the place, while still entirely focused on the mood of a given piece. The whole thing flows like a wacked-out, beautiful dream, I flat-out love it, and it’s a serious keeper. WHY, then, do they have to treat their [potential] audience (through their notes, etc.) like retards? Yes, gents, it’s THAT fucking annoying. If I heard this in a store, I’d buy it in a heartbeat. If I merely read the fruity-assed drivel you use to sell it, I wouldn’t just put it back, I’d hide it so no one else would have to feel so belittled. This kinda self-sabotage is especially baffling when the material is so exceptional, and I offer the advice as kindly as possible. It really matters. Cut the shit. (Joe Coughlin)

CIRCLE CIRCLE STAR

Circle Circle Star

7-song CD

I enjoyed listening to this record quite a bit. It’s full of spacey rock with a hearty helping of synth. The arrangements are all well thought out and work nicely. The band has an original sound that seems tough to pull off in this genre. The production is excellent, The Beach Boy-esque harmonies are a delight and made up for the sometime buried vocal. “Safe In the Middle of Nowhere” is a great opening track with a nice slow build—again excellent arrangement, Track four “Beautiful Memories Bleed” sounds like a different singer and works equally as well. There is a lot of talent in this band. Giant massive guitar lines throughout, I am going to listen to this one again. (Jason Duguay)

THE LIGHTS OUT

Color Machine

13-song CD

The Lights Out are, as is evidenced by their full-length debut, an incredible force to be reckoned with. Unleashed in late 2009, Color Machine exhibits the band’s brand of ferociously catchy rock ’n’ roll. Hugely contagious, the disc is a refreshing burst of energetic fun. The single, “Red Letter Day” is cause for celebration with its killer hooks, harmonized whistling, and the sing-along chorus of: “Hit the drink; swim towards the lights out. The ending only happens once.” This track, along with “Money or Time,” the anthemic “Gottagetouttahere,” and the Soundgarden-esque “Liquid” are particularly radio friendly. Color Machine is polished, a brilliant effort from a band that is taking the local music scene by storm. As their website states, it is “the perfect soundtrack to a bank heist; this album should come standard in every getaway car!” (Julia R. DeStefano)

MERCY JAMES

The Best Of Mercy James

13-song CD

Recorded under various monikers and with different lineups from 1992 to the present, and for anyone thinking it’s arrogant for a largely under-the-radar local to throw out a “best-of,” gimme a ring when you write a fraction as many perfectly swell songs as this guy has. Nothing of massive consequence, but nothing remotely cringeworthy either, which is at least half the battle. For the description-obsessed, it’s mainly inoffensive, catchy, well-arranged, nicely-played fluff—which, when done right, is crucial to one’s mental health, and this is pretty much all done right. Won’t change your life, but won’t ruin your day like most things will, either, so I fall squarely on the side of grateful. That said, I personally know the guy (yeah, it’s another fake name) to be one of the more honorable and intelligent folks to have ever graced this chowder-guzzling hellhole. And to him, I say: Fire whoever wrote your press sheet immediately. If it was you, hire me, or anyone else, immediately. The record’s as fine a thing as any crabapple here has a right to expect, and comparing yourself to Kajagoogoo and Billy Swan is misleading at best, insulting (to yourself and everyone) at worst. Leave that kinda shit to people like me, who actually don’t care who gets it or not. You deserve better, on your very own, very reasonable terms. (Joe Coughlin)

ASA BREBNER

Hi-N-Dry

Suenos de los Muertos

11-song CD

Perhaps Mr. Brebner is such an institution that he is now firmly in the camp of Artists Who Have Something To Say, and, therefore, he’s Going to Do It His Way. Okay, fine; but what we have here are a few good tunes performed with great flair, surrounded by a mixed bag of failed experiments. The opening track “You Won’t Know Me” is an Elvis Costello-esque romp, “My Blues Is Over” is a fine old bluesy testament, and “Like It or Not” is a heartfelt love song akin to “Ruby Tuesday.” Even a song like the quasi-serious “Come Back to Me” is a likeable goof. But I expected far more; Asa Brebner has been around for a long time—wellm over thirty years by my accounting. Yet a good many of these songs on his latest release strike me well-intentioned forays into genres where his particular gifts are not displayed to best advantage. (Francis DiMenno)

PROTEAN COLLECTIVE

Divided

11-song CD

This CD adds something old, something new, and something that, quite simply, kicks ass and has me wearing out the repeat button. Protean Collective returns with style and power in this full-length album, revisiting some music of an earlier release, Ep 09, but giving fans plenty of new tunes. The strength of this rock/metal/progressive band lies in the fact that they don’t rely on one single element. From Graham Bacher and Seth Goyer’s stunning vocals to drummer Matt Zappa’s artillery-like percussion, to the string skills of bassist Dan Ehramjian with Bacher and Goyer on guitar, this album has a lot to offer. There’s power galore in the music and lyrics as I listen to this CD again and again, I’m rarely sitting still. But this album is by no means a one-trick pony. Some of the tracks take on a more mellow tone, and it’s here we can see the endless nights spent poring over the notebooks, trying to encompass a lifetime of experiences in a few short lines. “For You” is one of my personal favorites, but just by a hairsbreadth, and I know fans will be just as hard-pressed to pick one from such a great selection. (Max Bowen)

THE WOOD FLOORS

Sidebar Records

Some Girls

10-song CD

This is quite a sonic amalgam. I’m thinking of some Lou Reed with fuzzy Neil Young mixed with a big part of Dinosaur Jr. That’s the quickest, and probably best musical stylistic description I can give. Most songs have that intense understated mellow feel, like they’d be good soundtrack music for the film starring Tiger Woods in a fugitive-from–justice role. I picture Tiger driving the open road to these songs, rearview mirror showing the reflective look in his eyes, bag of rusted golf clubs in the back seat. He’s in a convertible. Don’t believe me; well you need to get this CD and listen, while thinking of my words written here. Just picture that knucklehead driving off into the sunset, to try to hustle a game at a dumpy 9-hole course, remembering all those women he popped. The wistful look in his eyes tells the story, man those were some girls. (Mike Loce)

ZIP-TIE HANDCUFFS

WeedpunkNtea

11-song CD

Toe-tapping yarrghcore punk, lots of energy, and lo-fi production—the drums sound they were recorded at a Captain Beefheart concert back in 1967, and at any minute I kept expecting someone to yell “Kandy Korn—yellow and orange.” But, uh, back of it all, what I’m thinking is a big so fucking what? I mean, it’s mostly predictable, and that’s the one thing that such a musically constricted genre should never be. Okay, given they mix it up here and there, with a really taxing extended intro with solipsistic call-and-response guitars on “Run,” angular riffing on “Black Sky,” a bubbly bass intro on “Sidewalk Chuck,” the nimble, short-lived guitar hook on “Pig.” But this is, um, messy and unformed, to say the least. It slops over. It’s half cliché, half bricolage, sometimes to good effect, as on “Zombie.” I couldn’t listen to the last three songs because the disc was defective. But I’m tempted to say from what I did hear that this mostly sounds like how fire ants eating my face must feel. (Francis DiMenno)

BRING BACK PLUTO

Underneath

10-song CD

Ah, yes, Mrs. Slimedog here. Top music reviewer of the Noise, Rolling Stones, and Home & Gardens. Displaying her wide and thorough knowledge of music history and her finely manicured nails!

This is another band that plays songs without vocals! That makes two bands now that have tried this. How unexpected and delightful! But Slimedog says this CD would be better if they left out the music, too. He says it’s jazz funk and they sound like Weather Report only if it was continuously raining. Well, I like it because the bass sounds like a farting duck and the guitar is all tweety like a parakeet. It’s like killing a stone with two birds! I dance across the floor while making pork tamales when it’s funky but sometimes it’s too jittery and I hit my head against the coffee maker rendering me unconscious and causing me to dream that I’m a villainess in a James Bond movie who can shoot people with her breasts.

But now I’m revived with the pneumonia and I can say this is one of the two best “no singing” CDs of all time. (Mrs. Slimedog)

WHISTLE JACKET

Hello Heart

13-song CD

We find here the latest entry in the magnificent world of beefy, gristly Outsider Art. Skewed tunes, aberrant instrumentals, stylized vocals. I’m thinking Shaggs, Beat Happening, maybe even Magnetic Fields. But I’m also thinking that I don’t hear anything outstanding enough to make their postmodern approach worth chewing through. Warning: Don’t let your mother hear you listening to this, because she will cry and think you are on drugs, and she will probably be right. (Francis DiMenno)

ASLEEP IN A BOX

Driving a Motorcycle

Through a Bear

11-song CD

I think it would help if I had an idea as to the Asleep In a Box’s goal for this CD. It’s all-instrumental, ’80s-sounding progressive, New Agey, electro rock. Almost tinny and robotic—not in a recording sense but in a style sense. It’s really not my cup of tea but I don’t want to knock it for that reason. I will be fair and say if one digs this style and wants to just zone out and maybe time-travel a bit to the ‘80s, then Asleep In a Box will be right up your alley. Cool for background or soundtrack purposes or just to relax to. I have to say, though, that when I got to track 9, “Jungy Damascus,” I woke up and loved its tribal-feeling modern vibe. I’d be interested in hearing more from this band. (Debbie Catalano)

AUDIBLE MAINFRAME

Transients

13-track CD

Why aren’t these cats signed?

Audible Mainframe deserve the backing of at least a decent indie label to foot the bill in the studio and spread the cred. Transients is the hip-hop sextet’s sophomore release, and it’s a solid, energetic, and uplifting piece of work. Audible Mainframe are not your typical hip-hop crew- they are in the rare category of the hip-hop *band*. The DJ is not the sole provider of the music—he’s got a guitarist, bass player, drummer, and a keyboard/trumpet player holding him down. Finally, Exposition, the MC, gets my thanks for not hiding his thought-provoking lyrics behind a layer of Autotune like everybody else is doing. Together, these six guys make such a big and kinetic sound that I bet only hints at how their live shows are. They’re a refreshing antidote to the bullshit that’s being fed to the mainstream these days (cue track “Radioland”). Best tracks: “Don’t Be Sheep (On Friday Night),” “Ice Cold,” hell, most of it’s great—except, what’s up with the Sting sound alike on “Poison Ivy”? (Tony Mellor)

BEBE BUELL

Sugar

12-song CD

Bebe Buell, rock ’n’ roll empress, has returned, bestowing upon the faithful a 12-song CD, Sugar. Bebe establishes the tone of the recording in its opening moments by delivering a cool/hot elixir of mysticism and sensuality with “When We Were Godhead.” Bebe uses her rich alto to full effect—letting her power build and then reining it in—one moment steam rollering us, then caressing our ears, soft as a sigh. Moreover lyrically, Bebe captures our attention with the very first line—”I was a young rock ‘n’ roll angel/ Dancing through New York’s golden age.” “Love Is” continues the push and pull rhythms and the sensual throb created in the opener. Musically, Bebe’s band creates an inviting Middle Eastern atmosphere. Vocally, Bebe sings as if she has been touched by the divine! “Black Angel” is Bebe’s heartfelt rock ’n’ roll hymn to her close friend, Joey Ramone. Bebe says so much with such an economy of words—”I feel the crisp autumn air, I send you a kiss...” The title track “Sugar” is a sexy and fierce future dance club hit, inspired at least in part by Ian McCullough’s “Lips Like Sugar.” (Nancy Neon)

KINGSLEY FLOOD

Dust Windows

11-song CD

This thing we call “Americana” is a cruel taskmistress. At their best Dylan and Cash were superb, though when they phoned it in they were awful; not everything Hurley or Prine did was brilliant, and even the Band farted out some bona-fide duds. Maybe there ought to be a moratorium on this genre, at least for people who are under forty, because I have yet to hear a recent album in this amorphous genre that is reliably good all the way through. And when you hedge your bets by throwing in hokum jazz and some diffident blues numbers, well, sir, then you’re really tampering with forces man was never intended to meddle with. Okay—I didn’t absolutely hate this collection—the instrumentals are well above par; the vocals are workmanlike if lacking in a certain authority, and of the 11 songs, at least two were good enough to stick; namely, the urgent cowpunk of “Roll of the Dice,” and the dazed throwaway “Just a Midnight Ride.” (Francis DiMenno)

BEFORE THE CRASH

Before the Crash

5-song CD

Lots o’ down strokes on the guitar. Moody and dark lyrics. I hear a little bit of the Cure mixed with Candlebox watered down and beaten. Their music sounds painfully safe. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear this on somone’s iPod right next to U2 or that Justin Bieber kid. The first track, “Factored In,” includes lyrics that have the emotional maturity of an eight-year-old who has just had his toys taken away. The next cut “Servant” is filed with generic whines a la Matchbox 20. Track three “Where You Go” keeps my attention a little longer with some ’90s nostalgia. “Hey look at this neat delay pedal I just bought, how many times do you think I can use it to cover up the complete lack of lyrical content” is the overall feeling this CD leaves me with. (Jason Duguay)

PSYCHO

Welfare Records

Studio Recordings 1982-1986

45-song CD

45 songs on a single CD! Now, that is an accomplishment, my friends. Fortunately, there is some quality mixed in with the quantity. This compilation, as the title implies, represents the band’s entire output from 1982 through 1986. Interestingly, there’s enough turnover, particularly with the lead singers, that this record often sounds like it’s made by several completely different bands. It is the 13 tracks with Mick Keddy, representing the band’s first incarnation, that are the strongest. In fact, they are strong enough that I’m surprised Psycho doesn’t get mentioned more often as being trailblazers for the Boston hardcore scene that was rising to prominence at the time. Keddy’s voice sounds like a cross between Roger Miller and Jello Biafra, and the bands mix of urgent rhythms and anti-Reagan sentiments recall both Mission of Burma and The Dead Kennedys. Unfortunately, the rest of the material doesn’t live up to the promise of the first batch. Tracks 14-20 feature Joe Glassman on vocals, and while his more generic hardcore yelp is perfectly fine, and the more sledgehammer-like attack of these tracks does create its intended impact, things already start to sound repetitive by the fourth or fifth song. Still, those mid-period songs blow away the remainder of the album, all featuring a man named Mega on vocals. The songs get sillier, referring to a girlfriend’s menstrual cycle here, parodying Madonna there. Unfortunately, instead of bringing a smile to the listener’s face, it just makes them long for the better, more focused songs that kick off the record. (Kevin Finn)

SICK ELECTRIC

Death by Electrocution

11-song CD

Sonically eclectic and hailing from Providence, Rhode Island, Sick Electric’s Death by Electrocution is best described as a confection spanning the genres of electronica and grunge. Hard-hitting on the whole, the band’s second full-length effort focuses primarily on likeable arrangements that are accompanied by the vocal harmonies of Jimmy Lazer and Johnny Laundry. A guitar-driven band influenced largely by the surf-rock genre of the early ‘60s, the disc is abstract, a venture into the artistic and intriguing realm of musical composition—a sincere effort. As is stated on their MySpace page, “No one in Sick Electric possesses the ability to surf or travel through space and time; they just write songs like they can.” (Julia R. DeStefano)

BLACK KETTLE

Red Button Publishing

Narrative

10-song CD

Why do I feel... dirty, somehow for not loving this? Like I’m being mean to a mewing kitten begging for a saucerful of cream? Maybe because on the whole these are songs chock full of melodic substance, even if the presentation seems lighter-than-air betimes. Note, for instance, the slow build to climax of “The King and All His Horses,” a trick niftily mastered by the Chills on Brave New Words back in... 1987! (It would have been even better if they had thrown in some chimes or glockenspiel, but nobody’s perfect, as Joe E. Brown once opined.) “You Call It Art” builds to a crypto-grandiose coda, but that sort of thing is hardly a gut-slammer anymore. But why drag out the cliches of the past when there’s so many in the present day to deplore? Like the nicey-nice, babe-riffic come-hither vocal approach which, quite naturally, appeals mostly to sensitive males and their distaff companions alike. I’m not exactly in that particular demographic, but their least-objectionable programming strategy is a shrewd approach from a marketing perspective, and who am I to knock it? But love it? I do not. Though sometimes I’m tempted to. (Francis DiMenno)

RAY AND COMPANY

Blue Duck Records

White Noise Visions

15-song CD

Ah, yes, Zortar here. Top reviewer of the Neutron, local magazine on my planet, I’m the most knowledgeable music being in the universe. And my circuits are finely tuned!

So it says that soon after Ray got a guitar he was playing for his mother’s Sunday school. It appears that he learned his lessons well as these lukewarm pop tunes are as exciting as sitting in one of your worship houses on a Sunday morning. But you know that the holy men are really having all the fun behind the scene. These songs are the dullest pop songs and I would feel bad about comparing them to anyone else. If you can imagine John Denver and Jim Croce having hardcore S&M sex together that may be it.

It says Ray’s passion for music “is contagious and he can’t stop smiling because he’s doing what he loves.” After listening to this CD I can’t stop frowning and I feel like I’ve come down with the bubonic plague. In closing, note that as a space alien I have no genitals and this CD is the musical equivalent of that statement. (Slimedog)

THE WALKING HELLOS

Because I Wanted to Know

13-song CD

An odd amalgam indeed. Animatronic banjo, swirly clavinet, meet-cute femme vox, carnivalesque keyboards, ambient soundscape snippets, spartan instrumentals unexpectedly sprouting undifferentiated noise. The most conventionally orthodox song is the godsmacked incantatory fragment “Lie to Me.” The most compelling song is the mind-manifesting backwards-tracking soundscape “Lane 5 After Hours.” But as far as I’m concerned, many of the tracks are better understood as musical soundtracks for imaginary phenomena. The title track sounds like the musical rendition of the magnificent dying thoughts of a carny talker’s wife. “Is It Time?” reminds me of Dionne Warwick getting sucked into the Time Tunnel. “Winter Remedy”? Yeti brews tea for a critically sick mountaineer. If you like this sort of thing I’ll bet you listen to Van Dyke Parks and really dig it—a lot—and that you also actually read novels not ordinarily found on airport spinner racks. You’ve probably engaged in hortatory activities, and I’ll bet you even have a cousin who’s a thespian in wicked New York City. If, however, this sounds like everything that gives you the creeps, stay far away. This loathsome record will force you to reconsider the very nature of popular music. Forbidden fruit from the tree, Bluto. Go back to breeding your noble pit bulls. (Francis DiMenno)

PROVOCATEUR

Bad Blood and Brushfire

12-song CD

I’ve never done in illegal drug in my life, but I would imagine that if I ever felt like blowing lines in a blackened room, Provocateur’s darkened electro pop might very well be my soundtrack. The band’s synthesizer and drum machine driven sound might just be the lovechild of the Smiths and LCD Soundsystem. The songs aren’t quite fast enough to dance to, instead settling into a midtempo groove that straddles the line between hypnotic bliss and tired drone. Singer Matthew Connor’s voice carries a vague sexuality and there’s a general decadent feel to the whole project that gives it a charming naughtiness, most notably when Stacia Tucker’s voice joins Connor’s on the sex-and-drugs tale “Ain’t Big Enough.” The record would definitely benefit from having more variety in both tempo and mood, as it doesn’t keep the listener’s attention all the way through from start to finish, but there’s still a lot to like here. (Kevin Finn)

MICHAEL LEYDEN

Happy Home Recordings, Vol. 1

11-song CD

Michael has a whiny sounding voice. I have to say that immediately off the bat, because there’s no getting around it. I can be blunt. Since these are happy home recordings, one would expect Mike to sound happy most of the time. In fact, most of the time he does not. He sounds wistful, sardonic, and lovelorn. It’s kind of the Ray Davies mood on a bad day I’m referring to here. Or perhaps Daniel Johnston on all days. There’s a name worth looking up. The recordings certainly sound home-produced, what with similar room vocals, sparse low budget arrangements and vibe. It’s complex in the way that only purely introspective home recordings can be. Michael has a lot to say, and he conveys that he’s found his own voice. He does this in a way that sort of transcends the initial simplicity of the production, which I think is a cool thing. (Mike Loce)

JARED McCLOUD

Sling Slang Records

Romance of the Atlantic

12-song CD

Romance of the Atlantic is a well-produced folk rock album, instrumentation consisting mostly of acoustic guitar backed by bass and light drums with various ambient sounds throughout, courtesy of EBow and occasional piano. McCloud’s voice reminds me of Dave Pirner from Soul Asylum with some snarling Dylan thrown in there somewhere. As you could probably figure out from the title, the songs on the album are bittersweet reflections on relationships/ loneli-ness, reinforced by the slower tempos and gloomier keys on about 3/4 of the thing. The winner on this album without a doubt is the first track “Colors,” a solo acoustic song in the elegiac key of Eb with a passionately-sung chorus. After that beginning, I found myself tuning out a lot—it didn’t hold my attention all the way through like I hoped. There ought to be a couple of faster songs with some electric rhythm guitar thrown in or something—the album gets a little too samey. Don’t get me wrong though, these are quality songs. (Tony Mellor)

MARS

Embracing Imperfection

15-song CD

This is the bluebird that hops outside Slimedog’s apartment and though I’m real, I’m not really writing this review, of course; it’s just that Slimedog believes I am.

Soaring high through the friendly skies people think we birds are basically gentle folk—and we are, unless you’re a worm whose brain we’re sucking out of the ground. The disjointed, dilapidated, disoriented Slimedog says this is a New York No Wave band from the late ’70. But no, in fact they’re straight ahead pop rockin’ humans who have enough grit in their vocals and guitars to keep me entertained. They’re a bit of a throwback as they sound more like a ’70s or early ’80s local band but that sounds good from my bird eyes view. The songs are well written and catchy so they kill two birds with one stone (what a horrible saying).

So check out Mars, as Zortar might say, they’re out of this world. (Slimedog)