Author Archive for Jeff Laughlin

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Classic and Unappreciated: Small Factory’s For If You Cannot Fly (Part One, Side One)

Jeff Laughlin, March 2, 2011 in Classic and Music Reviews. 4 Comments Tags: , .

The opening chord of For If You Cannot Fly is not just a power chord: it’s the battle cry of my 1990s.  Let me back up a moment. The measurement of a band should be their battle cry. Whether it’s political, personal, or metaphysical, the first chord,  the first song, the first ideas should be the thesis. What makes an album a spiritual experience? The fact that an experience is shared? Vague, yet introspective lyrics? I’ve always thought it was the opening chord, the first intriguing notes that bring the listener in. And maybe no better first lines, personally, exist than: The last time that I spoke to you, I said some pretty mean things. It didn’t feel good, but I felt better.

Amongst the albums in my collection that I’ve listened to hundreds of times, so many of them have become noise. I can do anything while they are on: write, read, sleep, etc. They are worn out grooves, markedly unsurprising songs, background pulse. Small Factory commands my attention no matter what is happening or who is around. For If You Cannot Fly has been with me through cardigans, military school, collegiate strangeness, growing into adulthood, funerals, sunny days, boredom, clutching sanity, breakups, relationships, NC, NYC, VA, NC again and now onward. On the right day, the days when I am not whoring for attention– the days where no one can really hear me and won’t ask me about the particulars– this is one of my top five albums.

I don’t want to share this album unless you are going to love it. I can’t listen to people badmouth something so personal. It would be you saying that riding with my sister to high school was boring, my drunken walks home through Astoria boring, my nights alone trying to write boring. It would be calling me boring. Albums frequently transcend the listener-creator relationship, but others are beholden to a different mindstate altogether. For If You Cannot Fly isn’t just an album I absolutely love: it’s an album I want to recreate. It’s an album I hold inwardly important, and it’s one I have trouble describing or talking about. Describing the conversational lyrics, the three-singer lineup, the two halves (as if it were written for vinyl/cassette, side A is completely different from side B), the way it starts as a sloppy punk album, descends into noisy indie and settles into alt-folk-alternative, it is all too strange for me. The album runs a gamut of emotional spheres and it works.

Ed. note: I’ve split the review into two “sides” as an homage.

Continue reading ‘Classic and Unappreciated: Small Factory’s For If You Cannot Fly (Part One, Side One)’

Cloud Nothings: Cloud Nothings

Jeff Laughlin, February 23, 2011 in Music Reviews. 0 Comments Tags: .

There’s a lot stacked against me liking Cloud Nothings. There’s my history of having heard so many other bands like them. There’s the simplistic nature of the songwriting. There’s the style-over-substance appearance of the album. Still, I find myself wanting to hear them more. And more. It’s to the point where I was so obsessed with the band that I asked friends to listen to them and tell me why they are so good. It was a friend of mine on a short road trip that pointed out that Cloud Nothings are good because their style doesn’t belie their sensibility. “They’re so poppy, but these are some dark lyrics. It’s awesome.” Simple pop structures and vocal transpositions aren’t just tools, they’re choices on this album. There’s a dark side to this record and it is masqued beautifully with juxtaposed lightness of pop.

Each song being an exercise in brevity and shortsightedness, “Understand At All” kicks off the party well. Not many chords, not much song, nary a note out of place, the opening to Cloud Nothings is an enjoyable window into the easygoing-yet-troubled mindset of the writing. This theme continues in “Not Important.”  An angry underbelly shows a resistance to boredom with the song centering around a broken relationship not worth fixing (rather than the usual opining of a successful relationship that marks the genre). “You’re not that important now/ and that will always stay the same.” Brutal truths are usual the most bitter ones, but in the case of this record, it seems the truths are both self-evident and easily dealt with.

In the dreamier and prettier “Should Have,” a positivity shows up that isn’t prevalent on the album. “I always knew I’d follow you/ but now I know that it’s much better.” A sweet and loving song– a soft side to the dark corners of the other songs– moves the listener toward mid-album rockers like “Heartbeat.” The listener is later re-inundated with the normalcy of negativity, but “Should Have” rounds out a pretty great album early on. “Forget You All the Time” follows that feeling up with a sense of atonement– life has ups and downs– and an explanation that communication is not the strong point of either the known-known (the relationship in the song) or the known-unknown (the communique between the listener and writer). It’s an under-the-table apology of sorts; the idea that while not much is communicated, there is still meaning in short space. And, in a way, its a fitting way to circumvent talking too much about the songs themselves.

And perhaps that Cloud Nothings’ purpose. “I don’t have a heartbeat, why do you?,” “You love me but now we’re both dead,” “I am understanding but I can’t believe what you’ve been through,” “I’m getting old forever so I’m getting old so fast.” These are the earmarks of the best songs on the album. The catchiest and most provocative times for Cloud Nothings are when the album is both confessional and vaguely teaching. It’s a rock album, it has soul and it is a guilty pleasure all at once. Going too far in depth on the songs is actually self-defeating, and yet the album invites the criticism: “It’s happens all the time, at least that’s what they know.” That’s the last line on the album, the closing nugget of information on this, a lurid distraction. And it might be the most important. What we know is what we’re told, and that’s really all we need from a simple, fantastic set of anthems.

Industries of the Blind: Chapter 1 (Had We Known Better)

Jeff Laughlin, February 15, 2011 in Music Reviews. 0 Comments Tags: , .

After listening to Chapter 1 (Had We Known Better), I enjoyed a long silence. Sure, I heard cars traveling by on a busy street, near-muted announcers speculating about Carmelo Anthony, and the slamming of cabinet doors while my head was still swirling with musical motion. All that, but the lights were out and, to be perfectly honest, I was happy not to think. Managable cold crept in through my window as dark settled in. For a little while I was motionless. Yeah, 13 minutes is a long time for one song, much less two in a row that length. Yeah, the repetition can get to you sometimes. All I thought about, though, was the demonstrative brilliance of their songs; the language the music possesses despite the absence of linguistics. How can an EP say nothing, but speak so violently? In the brilliance of the moment, I suppose it really doesn’t matter. The best thing about Industries of the Blind’s debut is their uncanny ability to empty the listener’s mind. Instead of considering the origins of their story, the complexity or simplicity of their creation, or even the beauty of the songs, the listener is emptied out. Whether driving and expansive or hollowing out into echoes, this EP beats and swells and pounds the listener. By the end, there is nothing to do but nod in concordance and hear it again. Continue reading ‘Industries of the Blind: Chapter 1 (Had We Known Better)’

Hello Later: Where I’m Calling From EP

Jeff Laughlin, February 14, 2011 in Music Reviews. 0 Comments Tags: , .

A two-man outfit from NYC, Hello Later’s Where I’m Calling From is less slapdash than a new side project. Seven songs in around 13 minutes, Hello Later aren’t trying to overload you. This is an introduction, plain and simple: you get the charming “Hello Later,” the meaningful yet clever “I Won’t Mind,” and even the overtly ridiculous “Little Black Suitcase.” Where I’m Calling From is a first date with an attractive and off-kilter mate that both surprises you with style and makes you want to see more.

The most impressive work on the EP are the more serious tracks. “I Won’t Mind” is stylistically perfect– swells of electric guitar accompany a pretty riff. Easy, faraway drums move the song along gently and conversational lyricism resonates well. “Signs are not always right,/ but it seems like I’m holding on.” Each song is short– sometimes abnormally so– but this one is the right length. Once “I Won’t Mind” ends, you feel like everything has been said despite not much having been said at all. That’s the basis of a powerful song: the story is told, the instruments are solid and the listener wants the song again.

“What Day It Is” is more of a classic folk jam. “Sky’s painted gray/ the sun is gone away/ No one cares what day it is,” the song is an exercise in using referential and plainspoken information. Two minutes long, “What…” casts an innocuous light on a vague situation, but the listener is compelled to understand. The conflict of the song is so unimportant that it is never actually defined. While this is common in pop music, Hello Later redefines the descriptive narrative to hint at an underlying dread. And it is that dread that specifically defines their importance.

The haze of Hello Later shines most on their upbeat songs. Winter as a thematic choice is strange, since the songs including seasonal imagery are three of the most bright. “Elephant (Winter Version)”  even includes background whistling. This might be a pattern, it might be a coincidence. There’s not much evidence to go on in three short songs, but it does add to the overall aesthetic of the band’s introduction. The lazy haze of the EP is absent in winter songs, but invoking Winter at all still shows the easygoing ethos the band works to accomplish.

Hello Later is a spry, young idea awaiting to blossom. Thing is, all we have is what we’re provided. Seven short songs, a lot of potential and the waiting game. This EP is an accomplishment; a Pyrrhic victory. “I Won’t Mind” is one of my favorite songs of the year thus far and this EP is a good one. That said, the first date is only part of the battle. If there’s a next EP/Album, these two gentlemen have work cut out for them. As simple and unassuming as they may be, they’ve made an impression on me. Now, concurrently, I have expectations. Hello Later have won me over for now, so our next date is gonna be interesting. It’s all I can ask from a band that gave me no expectations upon meeting.

You can download the EP– name your own price– or stream it HERE.

Ghostface Killah: Apollo Kids

Jeff Laughlin, February 10, 2011 in Music Reviews. 0 Comments Tags: .

In recent years, Ghostface albums have been in abundance. This isn’t necessarily wonderful news, and his past sins are really the business of this blog. That said, the past two Ghost albums (and the Meth/Ghost/Rae album) have served to remind the public that no matter how hard he works to shift his image, fans want the coke, the blood, the rampant sexual thrills and the exterior of Ghost’s stories. And they want the edges of absurdity he so famously flaunts. Sometimes the production varies, sometimes the impetus of his creativeness changes, but Ghost, at heart, still has stories to tell.

Apollo Kids, the ninth full-length from Ghost, has brought out the headhunting, “clarity” seekers– the people looking for the old days and the new swag alike. While this album has garnered high praise, it seems that the album is too accessible for some folks. Seems that Apollo Kids is a good album that isn’t good enough. While I normally try to keep my vitriol saved for politicos and bad drunks, I’m a little rabid at the idea that a good album can’t just be good. See, since members of Wu Tang must always be perfect, the fact that Apollo Kids isn’t Supreme Clientele (or even Fishscale) is a sin in and of itself.

However, focusing on what the album is, I’ve found that I enjoy the hell out of it. “2getha Baby” is one of the best Ghost songs in years, “Purified Thoughts” is a phenomenal opener and the final two songs are a complete success. “In the Ghetto” uses one of the more creative samples in the Wu catalog, and “Troublemakers” is outstanding. Joell Ortiz crushes his verse on “Drama” and nearly makes The Game’s pedantic namedropping and Compton schilling worth it. Ghost himself shines brighter than Busta Rhymes on “Superstar” which is no small feat. Busta always seems to have a verse ready for Ghost that brings the best out of his counterpart. Even the strange combination of Ghost and Black Thought on “In the Park” works while the two of them intertwine old-school hip hop heads and their personal stories of triumph.

The album works despite its cursed availability. The usual shark-jumping and cultural oddities of a Ghostface album aren’t readily accessed, yet the album is solid throughout.  Playful, descriptive and above-all damned good, Apollo Kids isn’t just a shined relic; a rehash. The album is more than a reminder. AK is a fully fruitful listen again and again with tracks that will stand the test of time. As much as we blame the folly of continual releases and mock the elder rappers once they lose fervor, we don’t laud the brilliance of the best often enough. Ghost may not have released an instant classic, but he certainly didn’t destroy his credibility. In fact, I’d venture to say anything less than good for his tenth album will still be a letdown. As it always has been, the bar is still amazingly high.

Forgetters: Forgetters EP

Jeff Laughlin, October 27, 2010 in Music Reviews. 0 Comments Tags: .

Not mentioning the past when reviewing this EP is impossible, so I’ll just out-and-out say it: this EP is like having an old college roommate visit you years after you lived together. Blake Schwarzenbach is back in a 3-piece punk band. It could be that simple for me. I could easily end my review there and a  lot of people would understand exactly what I am talking about. So, for those of you that understand, I’m cool with you stopping here and taking this for the fan-obsessed review it should be.

As for the rest of you– the non-Jawbreaker fans or those not in the know entirely– this is a four-song EP. And it’s great.  Really great. The rest of my rambling aside, know that I think this EP is exactly the kind of jumpstart I needed to get back in the grind of reviewing albums. Power chords, simple drumming and basslines, and bitter but not overly angry lyrics make this a worthy listen 10 times over. These four songs are an embodiment of failure and understanding. To prove it,  let’s break it open song by song. Continue reading ‘Forgetters: Forgetters EP’

Short Cuts: Glasser’s Ring

Jeff Laughlin, October 15, 2010 in Music Reviews. 0 Comments Tags: , , .

Glasser have made an accessible and often fantastic album. Ring often undulates and flourishes simultaneously. The songs are full, lush and vocal heavy with methodical repetition. They also wear on me after awhile. If it’s possible to hear an album and be subliminally confident in how good it is without wanting to hear it, this is that album. This is accomplished songwriting, beautifully really, yet I am kind of happy to set it aside for awhile.

In fact, if I could write a letter to Ring, it would be business-like, short and tight.

Dear Glasser’s Ring,

Thanks for accidentally ending up in my hands.  I can’t tell you how excited I am to hear a new, creative voice within your electronic/dream-pop genre. I hope you continue to strive for excellence.

Yours Truly,

Jeff Laughlin/10Listens.com

It’s not often I want to write a letter to a band, and it is even less often I am left speechless when trying to write about one.  So, Glasser, this is a Pyrrhic victory.  I can’t figure out a way to talk about you, and it’s not your fault I’m so disinterested. You wrote a damn fine album and I hope a bunch of people hear it and review it way better than this cop-out.

Damn, now that’s two letters to Glasser. I’ll stop here, but only because I am starting to feel like maybe I shouldn’t write about an album I can’t grasp anyway. THIS REVIEW DOES NOT EXIST. THIS REVIEW WILL SELF DESTRUCT. SWIRLS OF VOCAL NOISE, OFF-KILTER AFRICAN-STYLE BEATS, PRETTY DISSONANT INSTRUMENTATION. EXPLOSION IMMINENT.

Classic and Unappreciated: Bluetip’s Join Us

Jeff Laughlin, October 14, 2010 in Classic. 1 Comment Tags: , , .

Ed. note: This post first appeared in 2006 in a rougher form for an older project.

When Bluetip’s Join Us came out in 1998, I had no idea who they were. In fact, I had only limited knowledge of their contemporaries. All I knew was Dischord Records had provided some other fantastic taste-altering selections in my young life: Minor Threat, Fugazi, Rites of Spring, Jawbox, Government Issue, etc. I was mostly juggling upbeat pop-punk (Promise Ring, Get-up Kids, etc.) and downtrodden rock (Jawbreaker, Sunny Day Real Estate). The former was a by-product of three years removed from society—a jaunt in military school that was as much fueled by jock-rock than any discernable tastes, i.e. I took what I could get and that was accessible pop—and the latter a notation of my life in a pit stop on the way to the North Carolina beaches. Jawbreaker (et al) and the occasional hardcore band were the outlets of choice for lifelong friends.

Bluetip’s importance, personally, ranged from a straightforward lyrical mentality. There was no referential “you” or lovelorn scenarios unexplained. There were no frills—no metaphors that didn’t fit or unwarranted emotional outbursts. The streamlined approach explained more without a victim mentality. This lack of showiness is, however big a downfall with modern audiences, a cat-call to the angry male. This includes alternate takes on break-ups, the pursuit of happiness—including paring down one’s acquaintances while noting one’s loneliness—work-related problems and a general awareness of one’s actions and consequences. From the first chord to the last, every phrasing complete thought, fragmented curse, and impartial judgment of character remains important to the ideas behind Join Us. Continue reading ‘Classic and Unappreciated: Bluetip’s Join Us’

First Listen: Ghastly City Sleep’s Moondrifts

Jeff Laughlin, September 29, 2010 in Initial Response. 0 Comments Tags: , , .

For an album I was randomly recommended, Moondrifts is a winner.  For a record I want to try and review anytime soon, Moondrifts might just be a loser.  Not my normal cup of tea, this drifting, yet calculated sound of airiness is a fantastic background record. Unfortunately, I can’t imagine forming enough thoughts on it to make a review. Maybe a couple more runthroughs will change my mind. I hope so. This record has promise. Let’s hope it finds it way to the foreground soon enough.  Until then, check them out here.

Bells: There Are Crashes EP

Jeff Laughlin, September 28, 2010 in Music Reviews. 0 Comments Tags: , .

Should we pity the lyric-less?  They live a hard life.  They are cast aside too often for those searching for the right words.  Not that the listeners are truly to blame, searching for words is so common an occurrence that most people forget they do it.  Or, in the case of lyricists, they provide little to no actual clarity around 75% of the time (ballpark guess), maybe more.  Sure, I made up that statistic.  It seems true, right?  Listeners get so caught up in what someone says, they too often forget how little need be said.  I can’t ever really know if Bells had that intention in mind when they wrote/recorded There Are Crashes, but it seems like they did.

Continue reading ‘Bells: There Are Crashes EP’