Author Archive for Kris

Titus Andronicus: The Monitor

When we received the press release and promo copy for the new Titus Andronicus record, The Monitor it featured a stream of the song “Four Score & Seven.” Going out of their way to point out that the song is 8:39 seconds long, the stream was split into two parts. Not totally shocking from a band who’s first record, The Airing Of Grievances featured a some shamblers that hung around the 6 minute mark. The tune is as nakedly grand as it’s title, with sections demarcated by what sound like drum rolls done on an actual Civil War snare drum. Patrick Stickles words and delivery are chanty, ragged and earnest (the mostly good kind). In other words, it’s what you may have been expecting form the second TA record. And with the emphasis on it’s length in the press release, I imagined it to be the grand statement of said record. Imagine my surprise, when downloading the whole thing to find out it’s only the third longest song on The Monitor. And it looked to have a Civil War theme.

Without even listening to another track I had the sinking feeling that I was going to find this sophomore effort “overambitious.” Which made me feel like a total dick.

There isn’t an opinion I find more worthless than the critic’s evaluation, not of an artist’s actual work, but their worthiness in undertaking its scope. If one wonders what exactly a critic is allowed to judge (especially in pop music), know at least that whether an artist’s ambition of meaning/message/style outpace their perceived artistic station aint one of em. Loathe was I to have that filthy O word pop into my head.

But that’s why they play the games, and that’s why we listen to stuff 10 times around here. After living in it for a couple weeks The Monitor plays like a statement not of ambition, which by definition looks to address the future and achieve a certain end, but of the immediate present. The record is a portrait of Stickles’ voice, and of his worldview. It’s full of chants, witticisms and yes, some 8, 9 and 13 minute songs. It’s not perfect but any moments of rote sloganeering are outnumbered by its moments of affecting and effective bottle raising and fistpumping.

And man, some of these refrains stick with you. Please assume all lyrical excerpts from here on out end in an exclamation point. “Four Score And Seven” has “You won’t be laughing so hard” and the tried and true “It’s still us against them.” Pair these up with the emphatic “The enemy is everywhere” from lead single “A More Perfect Union”** (there goes Pat addressing the American People again), “You will always be a loser” from “No Future Part III: Escape From No Future” and The Monitor is a drawing of battle lines between that ubiquitous societal enemy and the kids he’s singing to. The ones described in “A Pot In Which To Piss” as “never a virgin, you were fucked from the start.” In that light allusions to bygone political rhetoric seem quaintly fitting, not overstated or overblown. Them is us, and Us vs. Us is what a civil war is all about.

Washed in guitar swells, screeching horns, E-Streety keys, ripping drums and barroom chorus backup singers, this style of earnestly (mama, there goes that word again) pissing off a soapbox is a proven formula for dredging up old battles, but it’s one that Stickles and company employ with a junkyard dog authenticity. There are kids out there that need and will love this record, made now. And I liked it, so I guess I’m not a dick. The Monitor may not be your favorite record but there is little doubt in listening to and getting to know it, that it surely will be someone’s. And that’s a pretty decent ambition to have.

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**I am writing this review without any specific reference to what appears to be Stickles slamming Boston for most of this track. He mentioned living here in Somerville last time I saw them. Go easy on us, dude, we’re cranky.

Cold Cave: Love Comes Close

Doing my pre10 research on Cold Cave got me damned excited for the record. Lead dude Wesley Eisold was also lead dude in American Nightmare, a band that I enjoyed very much earlier in this decade. Cold Cave’s initial CS/EPs (which I hadn’t heard) were released through the venerable Hospital Productions and last year Eisold played under the Ye Olde Maids moniker with Major Stars, probably my favorite hometown band.

So bring on Love Comes Close the LP released this month on Matador, I thought. Give it to me ten times. Unfortunately, what I ended up with was a record that had worn out it’s welcome a few spins before the 10th. Well, except for one track that is undoubtedly one of my favorites of the year. Weird.

Opener, “Cebe and Me” opens with a promising stutter step of electronic feedback coupled with an insistent bassline of similar digital lineage. But, the spoken word vocals of Caralee McElroy (formerly of Xiu Xiu, dammit why don’t I love this record??) are produced with so much affectation she sounds like nothing so much as an airport recording telling you not to park in the loading zone. Like most of the record it’s a song that lost both it’s emotional and visceral connections with me by not being interesting enough to be as repetitive as it is.

Hitting listen 7 on the title track or “The Trees Grew Emotions And Died” or “Youth And Lust” the less than dynamic synth lines repeated for entire lengths of songs, and we’re talking 4 minute songs here, were almost completely disengaging. Perhaps the biggest disappointment with Eisold involved is that the lyrics don’t help. This is a crucial strike on a record where so little else is going on. The man who once cut to the quick with sharp bruising lines like “City lights and colder nights/I’m innocent besides the fights” is now giving us “A synthetic world without end sheds a tear of plastic deception.” Eep.

Having said all this, I’d also like to say that all is nearly forgiven for the perfect slice of weirdo vocal delay pop on track 3, “Life Magazine”. The sprightly (and multipart!) synth lead grooves over some seltzer fizz feedback while McElroy’s echoing vocals do their own rhythm work. And I think she says “Wiseau.” The song ends with her repeating the phrase “not going back,” and everything about “Life Magazine” makes you believe it’s off to somewhere great. If only it could bring the rest of this inexplicably unaffecting record with it.

Califone: All My Friends Are Funeral Singers

10Listens approval rating: 100%

For the past 3 weeks I’ve lived with Califone’s “All My Friends Are Funeral Singers” in the same way I’ve lived with the haze that accompanies the first few minutes of being awake. And the last few seconds before you fall asleep. And every other sensation that’s instantly familiar but blurry and shrouded. It happens to be one of the finest records of 2009.

Califone has always occupied that dusty critical corner where the words “experimental” “americana” and “post-whateverthefuck” get tossed around to make it sound like the band is some sort of tough nut to crack. It’s obfuscation– whether intentional or unintentional I am unable to say, because what has lied at the heart of all their records are songs. Rusty old songs, with buzzing strings, low harmonies and hooks. Califone is a pop band for people that like tumbleweeds and cough syrup. They were on the soundtrack for Stranger Than Fiction for christ’s sake.

Ostensibly, “All My Friends Are Funeral Singers” is itself a soundtrack. Singer Tim Ritilli has directed a film of the same name, and they are companion pieces to each other. Without having seen the film yet, I can tell you that this record does as fine a job of rendering places, feelings and classic mystery as well as anything with or without a visual element can.

Opener “Giving Away The Bride” stutter steps it’s way into your headphones in a way that on first lesson sounded distant and mechanical. By the tenth listen, the opening crack of the drum machine and Ritilli’s stretching of “bride” into a nine syllable word conjure the kind of dark and warm atmospheres that mark the rest of the record. If you’ve already heard it, the first few seconds of the record allow you to hear it all again. It’s the most fitting lede for a record you’ll hear.

Second track, “Polish Girls”, is a straight ahead detuned stomp. Well, straight ahead except for the cryptic lyrics that mark much of the record and the band’s catalog as a whole. Polish Girls in ruins? There are spiders involved? Of course there are. And you’ll sing along.

It’s post-cliche to refer to albums as their “whole,” as if not having any singles on it is an artistic statement. But as each track bleeds into the next, the sequencing here is indeed part of the art. The album’s first peak is the 1-2 whiskey punch of “Funeral Singers” and “Louis Bunuel.” The former packs a rambling lyric sheet best described as urgent. Coupled with detached TV like voices it’s tune that in lesser hands would come across as cliche. “All my friends are keeping time/all my friends just quit trying,” is a line so evocative and its static imagery so opposed to the driving nature of the tune that the 6 seconds it takes to sing are some of the best I’ve heard all year. The latter is a tribute to “The father of cinematic Surrealism” (thanks wikipedia), that interestingly is one of the most straight forward story songs on the record.

And so breaking down each track, while possible, is ultimately futile. “Krill” rules. “Better Angels” is an epic closer that does its job as well as “Giving Away The Bride” does its. But if there is a way that Califone can recommend itself it’s with the line from “Bunuel” in which Ritili sings “every whorehouse and every sycamore/knows a better way to make you wait.” There’s a cross between those kinds of shadiness and that kind of majesty that’s been tried many times, but at this point in their career and on this record Califone has shown their mastery of the craft.

Since they’ve mastered such a hazy craft, “All My Friends…” is a perfect record for the 10Listens experiment. The common notion of a record that grows on you is that through repeated spins, the record’s themes expand and you hear things you haven’t previously heard. What makes “All My Friends Are Funeral Singers” great the 10th, 20th, and 30th times is that the bands vision for the record becomes more precise. Clearer. You know exactly what to expect from it each time you listen. And it’s a singular pleasure.

Author’s note: Califone is touring for the record by playing along to the film. I’ll be seeing them here in Boston on 10/22 and will report back.