Fly, Fly, Fly.

Mae: (m)orning
[Cell Records]

Well. Look who didn't do his research.

I've been a fan of Mae (short for Multi-sensory aesthetic experience) for quite a while now. After their last release (2007's Singularity), however, I lost track of them. Despite a few standout songs, Singularity just wasn't quite as good as their previous record, The Everglow, and for two years I didn't think much about the band until an e-mail from Amazon arrived in my inbox informing me about their latest release, (m)orning. Naturally, I assumed it was just a new album. I bought it, and have been listening to it in preparation for a review. But, to be honest, I didn't actually seek any information on it until I sat down to write this piece. It seems as though I've fallen behind, because this record has quite a story.

It would seem that not long after the release of Singularity, two of Mae's five members parted with the band. In 2008, the remaining band members split with Capitol Records. Left with no label and a feeling of creative freedom that they'd heretofore not felt, Mae began a complete overhaul of their career; not necessarily their musical style, but their goals, aspirations and philosophy. The idea was thus: throughout 2009, Mae would be dedicating their musical efforts to three charities; they would release one song per month on their website, available as a digital download for a minimum donation of one dollar. They would also compile these songs--along with a few others--into three separate EPs, for sale at their shows and representing three phases of the project ((m)orning, (a)fternoon and (e)vening) and three different charities. All profits from the sales of the EPs would be donated to their respective charities. According to their site, since January 1st, they have raised over $55,000 for Habitat For Humanity and DonorsChoose.

After digesting all this, I feel like my tone for this review should be a little different. Admittedly, I had to listen to (m)orning a few times to really get a feel for it, but I do like it (bear with me, I will elaborate). And I'll also admit that much of this--the high-mindedness, the adherence to the (mae) acronym, the scratch-and-sniff CD sleeves they sold at their shows--might come off, to those previously unfamiliar with Mae, as pretentious. Bono-ish, even. But I find it difficult to doubt the earnestness of something like this:

"Our promise to you is to commit all of the profits from digital downloads to fund humanitarian projects that Mae and you will be a part of all year long. Like a fire that spreads without boundaries, we can ignite a change in this world if we work together. As we tie our voices, our resources, our minds, and most importantly our actions together, we will see the world change for the better over the course of this year and beyond. Take this music and this mission and run with it."

This isn't just lip-service; Mae is actually doing this, and they're doing it without any press, promotion or fanfare. To say that they're doing it for any other reason than that they truly believe in it is, I think, hopelessly cynical.

All of that said: the CD/DVD version of (m)orning that was released in September is not a charity release, but the motivation behind its composition and recording remains the same. And as a record in its own right, it's damn good; certainly nothing if not interesting. Absent Rob Sweitzer's keyboards, which were an integral part of Mae's previous sound, the band's remaining members have moved--musically--in a more "progressive" direction. While The Everglow was a concept album, and definitely progressive in that aspect, its individual songs were mostly standard verse-chorus-verse rock tunes. With (m)orning, however, we're presented with some longer and more intricate songs, meandering in structure and tempo changes, and an overall sense of musical freedom and daring. I think that Mae tried to be a little more daring on Singularity, which was mostly a let-down. It appears that when they describe finding themselves with "no limitations," and of being "continually inspired with creativity," they're (again) not just spewing platitudes; the daring of (m)orning is--while a little tougher to get a grasp on--infinitely more satisfying.

Now, don't take me wrong, here: by "a little tougher to get a grasp on," I don't mean that (m)orning is inaccessible, discordant or non-melodic; far from it. I simply mean that--as I said earlier--it took me a few listens to really get a feel for the record. The elements that characterize Mae's style are all here, but they're put together in an altogether different way. While the keyboards may be sparse, there are a number of flutes and winds that really do make the album feel like, well, the morning. Mae's managed to thicken their guitar sounds--in the writing, in the effects and production, and by adding in some acoustics and twelve-strings--which mostly fill the void left by the lack of the piano. The jazzy instrumental opening track fades and gives way to the quiet opening of "The Fisherman (We All Need Love)," which begins with one of the more endearing guitar progressions I've heard from this band. In addition, this first section of the nearly nine-minute song presents a spectacular bassline once the rhythm section kicks in; it follows the chord progression while playing with octaves and adding quick riffs that give a beautiful life to this early part of (m)orning. This little piece of the song only lasts for just over a minute before the song veers into another movement, but these sixty-two-odd seconds do a superb job of grabbing one's attention. "The Fisherman" thrills through its nine minutes and numerous musical movements before closing with Dave Elkins'--displaying a newfound vocal power and confidence--sustained blast of "we all need love" over a dual-octave power chord riff.



Though only five of (m)orning's eight tracks have lyrics, each of these five songs is well-developed enough to make the whole of the record feel worthwhile. "The House That Fire Built," in addition to being the call-to-arms of Mae's new philosophy, alternates effectively between driving and marching beats and remains compelling through its seven minutes. "Boomerang" sports some truly interesting guitar composition and performance, a nice horn section during its instrumental section, and an excellent middle-eight; it also flows seamlessly into "Two Birds," a very pretty acoustic guitar-and-flute interlude song. Each of the record's songs is distinct, but they share enough in style and execution that they create a satisfying whole.

Even if Mae's aims with (m)orning weren't so lofty, it would be well worth your time; it stands up on its own impressively. As they are, though, I hope those of you that enjoy their music will consider supporting their cause. A number of songs from the upcoming (a)fternoon and (e)vening albums are currently available as songs-of-the-month on Mae's website, and they're all well worth the modest donation being asked for their download. To see a relatively unknown act emerge from professional turmoil with such selfless dedication and purpose--and to do so with some of the best music of their career--is both inspiring and noteworthy. Even if one didn't care to donate to Mae's cause, the commercial release of (m)orning is far from the worst you could do with $6.99. Whatever their motives are in its creation, I'm looking forward to the rest of this "day."

She'll Kiss You Like a King and You'll Love It.

A Fine Frenzy: Bomb In a Birdcage
[Virgin Records]



That song says pretty much everything I'd need to say about A Fine Frenzy's (singer/songwriter/pianist Alison Sudol) second release, Bomb In a Birdcage. It's whimsical and terribly sweet, extraordinarily catchy and perfectly executed. I don't generally like to describe music as "cute," but holy crap is that song adorable. I'd like to pick it up and squeeze it lovingly; quite simply, it makes me smile (and press repeat).

Being that it's kinda what we do around here, though, I'll expand a bit. Bomb In a Birdcage is an engaging record from a talented performer and songwriter, equal parts elegant and playful, delicate and confident. Sudol deftly navigates through upbeat, bouncy tunes and more subdued singer/songwriter fare, producing an album that often calms but never bores; her ability to put just the right notes at the forefront of relatively sparse music, coupled with excellent production, prevents even the quietest songs from losing the listener's attention.

Having achieved a fair degree of success with her debut record, A Fine Frenzy expands her musical palette a bit with Bomb In a Birdcage, blending some slightly more daring pop numbers in with her flowing style and showing more power in her vocals. "What I Wouldn't Do," the single "Blow Away" and especially "Electric Twist" really get the first third of the album moving before Sudol settles into a more level feel for a few songs. "Electric Twist" is a true highlight here; beginning with just a bass, a couple low guitar strings and a voice, it slowly adds layers of keyboards and effects, building steam as the riffs meld and the vocals project. Sudol punctuates a number of lines with quick, high-pitched squeaks that might seem obnoxious in description but are totally endearing aurally--sweet and playful and happy. It's these little touches in delivery--like the breath at the 2:04 mark--that make A Fine Frenzy irresistible.



The middle section of Bomb In a Birdcage rolls along a bit more calmly, relying on Sudol's beautifully full piano to carry the elegant melodies, interspersed with bursts of horns and keyboards to keep things interesting. Still, these four or five songs drift along like a lazy river, comfortable and lovely and inviting. "Stood Up" is a bit of a deviation from the rest of the record, albeit an alluring one; its vocals are heavy on reverb and echo, and the song includes a piece where the vocals are backed only by a thumping drumbeat, giving it almost an anthemic feel. This track also includes some of the most powerful vocals on the record, and is rather stirring for an artist like A Fine Frenzy. The album closes out with the pretty "The Beacon;" that is, unless you get the iTunes version--and I recommend that you do--which closes more appropriately with "Coming Around." While it is rather pretty, "The Beacon" ends a bit anticlimactically; "Coming Around" is a more satisfying final track, upbeat and full of lush horns and background vocals.

Overall, Bomb In a Birdcage is an excellent entry into the ever-expanding female singer/songwriter genre. It's a cohesive record despite being quite a bit more dynamic than A Fine Frenzy's debut, and the lyrical content is intelligent, fanciful and literary without being too artsy or inaccessible. It may not draw in those who aren't predisposed to her kind of music, but for those with an ear for the mellow and melodic, Alison Sudol is definitely someone you should meet.

Atyipcal

Mute Math: Armistice
[Teleprompt/Warner Bros.]

The first thing you need to know about Mute Math is that lead singer Paul Meany plays the keytar in concert. Don't even try to tell me that's not awesome.


Armistice, the second album from this New Orleans rock band, lives in a very nice middle-ground. Mute Math's overall sound--a blend of alternative rock and electronic, almost psychedelic music--and Armistice in particular sit comfortably between Bloc Party and U2; more melodic and pop-sensible than the former, and utilizing the kind of lead riffs and echo-chamber sound of the latter in ways that are infinitely more interesting (and without the stupid sunglasses, silly monikers and general obnoxiousness).

From the opening track, "The Nerve," we can tell that there's something just a little different about this Mute Math record. The foundation is the same: funky beats, swirling keyboards, strong bass lines and effects-laden guitars. But "The Nerve" seems injected with a bit of soul that never made itself known on Mute Math. The whole of Armistice feels a bit more "loose" than the band's debut; I put that particular word in quotes because I don't want to give the impression that Mute Math is any less technically proficient in their performance here--they aren't. There is, however, just a slight change in the overall tone of the music. Mute Math was--and is--a fantastic record in every aspect, but even the most uplifting songs on it felt deadly serious; not necessarily cold or lacking emotion, but very tightly focused. Armistice, on the other hand, feels a touch more playful; relaxed, perhaps. The difference is subtle, but it's there. To better illustrate my point, I'd point specifically to Paul Meany's vocals. He is, of course, still an excellent singer, powerful through his entire range and tonally right-on. He sounds more natural, though, this time around; there's a lot less reverb put on the vocals, a lot more harmony, and--apologies for the repeated use of this word--a little more soul. His transitions are just slightly more drawn-out but still smooth, giving the songs a warmth that was often missing from their debut.

To be honest, I'm kind of nitpicking here in pointing out these subtle comparisons. The important thing is that Armistice is really a good listen. As I said before, the Mute Math hallmarks are still here: keyboards and computer effects swirl and splash throughout the album without totally dominating the soundscape. The songs are still full of funky rhythms and off-beats that manage to keep toes tapping. Several of the reviews I've read of Armistice lament the absence of U2-ish songs like "Collapse" and "Typical," the arena-rock standouts of Mute Math, pointing to the more ambient sound and complex melodies of this record as a departure from the band's originality and pop sense. That complaint, however, ignores the fact that--the aforementioned two songs aside--the remainder of Mute Math was hardly pop music. I'd counter that Armistice leans ever-so-slightly more in the direction of pop (perhaps alternative, more aptly) by retaining the experimental ambiance of the band's debut while cutting down on the "open spaces," as one might say; those periods on Mute Math where the vocals dropped out and for a minute or two we were left with just the rhythm section. That isn't to say that there aren't impressive instrumentals here; the gorgeous string interlude of "Clipping" is a highlight. The quick piano that tiptoes through this tune, the pulsating keyboards and the high harmony makes this one of my favorite songs on the record.



Armistice, while often unconventional, is not always mid-tempo and cerebral. "Spotlight," "Electrify," "Goodbye" and the title track can all hang with the best dance-rock you're likely to find, especially the latter with its groovy funk, frenetic bass and killer horn section. Fans of the band's debut will dig "Pins and Needles," with its relatively sparse instrumentation and jazzy percussion. And U2 themselves--along with a number of other lame pop bands--could learn a thing or two from the ballad "Lost Year," which drops the synths in favor of a piano and strings, and manages to lay a beautiful track over a still-interesting beat, not sacrificing Mute Math's identity.



Though I seem to be in the critical minority with this opinion, I think that Armistice is a step forward for this talented band. They've added a subtle new dimension to their sound while maintaining their uniqueness; essentially, they've held on to their originality without re-hashing their debut. As I said, it's a nice balance between the experimental and the accessible. I've never understood the thinking of critics who pine that a new record is not the old record. It seems counter-intuitive to hope that a band never progresses or tweaks their sound as they mature as songwriters and musicians; that maturation what makes a momentarily great band into a reliable favorite. My dad used to tell me that to consider a band great, each of their albums had to be better than its predecessor. It may be to early to state whether Mute Math will achieve that level of greatness, but Armistice is a worthy notice of intent.

Our Favorite Album Covers

Much like a musician who is part of a band but also releases solo material, I'm sort of glad we saved this post for this site as opposed to Pajiba. Of course, maybe if we woulda posted this on Pajiba, we'd still be on Pajiba. Right. Because this post is going to be that important.

I also want you to know that this post is totally NOT SUITABLE FOR WORK! You have been warned.

Anyway, here are each writer's (who cared to participate) Top 3 covers:

Sean

Buchanan, All Understood

It's not graphic or even all that provocative, but it always struck me as amusing. We know what's going on in there, guys. Maybe not the specifics, but...we get it. Lotta steam, too; somebody's good.

Faith No More, Songs to Make Love To

Rhinoceros humping. Indeed.

Rush, Power Windows

Alright, so my musical tastes don't really lend themselves to controversial cover art. You'll have to deal with what I think is cool, then. Hugh Syme has been producing excellent, thought-provoking cover art for decades, and this is one of my favorites.

I'd also like to make a brief mention of another prolific cover-artist: Storm Thorgerson. Not necessarily because he's produced a number of iconic covers, including Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. But because the man's name--his GIVEN NAME--is STORM fucking THORGERSON. I dare you to find me a legit birth name that's more rock 'n' roll than that.

Jez

Dwarves, Blood, Guts & Pussy

Yeah, it's totally misogynist, but there are naked women covered in blood and a dwarf acting like he's having sex with a rabbit. It's totally an affront to your sensibilities.

Black Crowes, Amorica

Umm, so yeah. I kind of like the low-brow covers.

Zipgun, Baltimore

A guy dressed up in a bunny suit giving an easter egg to a poodle. Folks, I dare you to find a more fucked up cover than this. Not necessarily a big smack in the head like the first two, but more like "What the fuck?"

Chris Polley

STNNNG, Dignified Sissy [Modern Radio; 2005]

I already knew the Minneapolis spazz-punk outfit STNNNG were awesome when I saw them live. It just so happened that an album cover featuring a polar bear viciously attacking armed men cinched the deal for me when contemplating whether to purchase their music. Also, every song sounds like the gruesome act depicted in the detailed illustration, so they get bonus points for appropriately complementary iconography.

I Am David Sparkle, This Is The New [Kitty Wu; 2007]

Okay so the actual visual, especially in JPEG form, of this album is nothing notable. But what makes holding the album cover in your hands so special upon purchasing the glistening and climactic instrumental guitar music of Singapore's I Am David Sparkle is that in order to get to the CD, you have to at least partially destroy its paper casing upon which the artwork is printed. Sewed together on all four sides with black thread, it is impossible to remove the disc from the packaging without ripping its cover, forcing you to work, to undo, to disassemble the art in order to hear the music. Call me a sucker, but I love pretentious shit like this.

Owen, At Home With [Polyvinyl; 2006]

Maybe I'm just an idiot, but I owned this album for a good two months before I noticed the item of mystery behind its cover's photographic composition. There the record sat, in my car's passenger seat, every single day for weeks as I listened to it obsessively on repeat, until one night I parked in my garage, picked it up to bring inside as the dim overhead light helped me catch a new found glimpse of its front side. Suddenly, as I stared, crickets chirping and the engine finally whirring down to a slight whine, I noticed it. Behind the fog, lying on the grass amongst the intimidating sprawling tree and foliage I finally saw it. If you're like me and don't see it right away, look closer. Hopefully when you notice it, it won't be as the automatic light in your car and garage turn off simultaneously and freak you out to the point of smacking your head on the door.

Boo

Nirvana, Nevermind

This is probably one of the most iconic album covers of my generation. I mean, you have the triumvirate of power, all captured here in a perversely simple image: money, penis, and swimming pools. (I could get all pretentious here, and talk about the imagery as symbolism for the delicate balance between life and death, but honestly, it's been a long day and I really just want to give this bottle of wine a blow job.)

Ween, Chocolate & Cheese

I had to add my own boobage. Ween and a pro-wrestling reference. I'm Southern. Need I say more? Oh yeah: blowjob.

Aphex Twin, Windowlicker

Jez: I see your Zipgun cover and raise you an Aphex Twin.

Sleep tight, kids.

Music News: A collaboration you might not have seen coming

Finally some "piss in my pants with excitement" music news. Let's be real here. Most of the music news I report here is ho-hum. This right here is mind-blowing. The Black Keys are producing and performing on a hip-hop album featuring Rza, Raekwon, Mos Def, Jim Jones, Pharoah Monch, Q-tip, Ludacris, ODB, Billy Danze of M.O.P., Noe and Nikki Wray. The album is called Blakroc and will be released on Friday November 27^th. The album is supposedly being released on a label started by Damon Dash and The Black Keys management. You can register your e-mail address at Blakroc.com to pre-order the album, view videos of how this project came to be and hear some snippets of the new music. I know the following clip has nothing to do with music news but the instant I heard the name Damon Dash I thought of this:

Chappelle's Show
Roca Pads
http://www.comedycentral.com/
Buy Chappelle's Show DVDs Black Comedy True Hollywood Story

-Felicia

Surprisingly, the notoriously interview-shy White Stripes have a documentary coming out about their tour of Canada in 2007. Called The White Stripes Under Great White Northern Lights (an unnecessarily long title if you ask me), the film debuted at the Toronto Film Festival this week. Apparently, the film (which is black and white, of course) plays on a lot of the ongoing jokes of the Stripes’ career, such as whether they’re siblings or ex-husband and wife and the fact that Meg almost never talks. No word yet on a wider release for the film, though I’m sure it’ll be on my DVD shelf eventually. -Christian H.

Last Tuesday marked the day that the Beastie Boys were supposed to release their new album, Hot Sauce Committee, Pt. 1. Due to Adam "MCA" Yauch's cancer diagnosis a few months ago, the release date has been pushed back indefinitely. However, the Beasties re-released a digital version of Hello Nasty in its place. The album includes the original remastered album plus 21 bonus tracks, skits and rarities. A physical release will take place on Tuesday September 22nd. There are a multitude of packages you can choose, including a double vinyl and a collector's edition vinyl. All the add-ons can be viewed at the Beasties' website. -Felicia

In what I think is the coolest news of the week, Pavement has announced that they are getting back together! Well, for a tour…in 2010. They’ve only announced three shows so far, all in NYC, but they claim it’s going to be a full-on tour “around the world,” which has my jukebox jumbling. For those who are unaware, Pavement is basically the band that made indie garage rock cool in the ‘90s with albums like Slanted and Enchanted and Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. They made a lot of music before they broke up in 1999, so they will have lots of material to choose from as they go out and play. They say this tour “isn’t prelude to a permanent reunion” and that it’ll probably just be this tour and that’s it. I’m usually very negative about reunion tours, especially for ‘90s bands, but basically, if they come to Minneapolis, I will get a ticket or die trying. –Christian H.

I've been a long time fan of Muse so it's kind of disturbing to think they're just now gaining popularity due to the use of their song "Supermassive Black Hole" in the Twilight movie. I admit I read all the books and even saw the movie twice (as our readership drops from ten to one after that revelation) but I hate the fact that they'll be known as "The Twilight Band" from here on out. In any case, Muse just released the video for their new single "Uprising." The song has grown on me, but their older stuff will always be closest to my heart. Oh, and they still haven't gotten credit for when that monster Adam Lambert sang their arrangement and cover of "Feeling Good" on American Idol, which is one of my favorite covers of all time.
-Felicia

As always, it's my pleasure to present your Monday Playlist.

Felicia: We have an MPR radio station here in Minneapolis called The Current and at 4:00 p.m. t they play a "No Apologies" track, meaning there are literally no apologies for the dissemination od a possibly hideous song. It's one of my favorite features on radio only because I usually really like the songs they play. It's normally a throwback or something so bad it's good, like a Meatloaf tune. Last week they played INXS's "Not Enough Time." It reminded me how much I love INXS and how hard my heart aches that I will never be able to see the original INXS live. It also reminded me what a fucking atrocity that reality show was where they were looking for a new lead singer. How dare they try to replace Michael Hutchence, and they should be ashamed for selling out like that. I was one of those people who refused to watch that garbage and was just short of staging a sit-in protest against it. Long live the real INXS in all its glory.

Sean: My contribution to an upcoming collaborative piece got me listening to one of my favorite albums from my post-college and performing years, Buchanan's All Understood. I don't think it's possible to place this record in any particular genre aside from the broad and true "independent" descriptor; it runs the gamut of styles, from rock to acoustic to soul, jazz and blues. The sultry groove of "Satan Is A Woman" behind Jay Buchanan's creamy, expressive voice paints a vivid picture of a man with absolutely no power over himself, and of the woman who just owns him.

Chris: "Cloudbank" by Julianna Barwick, from her new release Florine, is an instrumental song that only uses vocals. Wrap your head around that for a second. Using tons of delay, reverb, and looping techniques, Barwick creates an atmospheric soundscape that's at once enveloping and sparse, which is (or should be, anyway) the ultimate goal of quality ambient music. The wispy layers of her voice crescendo with ease and longing while the gulps of silence that intercede her experiment throb with pain and aching. It goes to show that music doesn't need to be crowded with sound to be impressive or sound big. And Barwick does it with the only instrument that doesn't cost a penny.



We hope you're enjoying what you're seeing around here. Thanks for reading. Have a good week. -Sean

Bread sucks. I love cheese. What?

My Favorite Middle Eights

I've written a few songs in my day. Songwriting isn't easy. I've learned, though--both from my brief foray into composition and from my lifelong obsession with pop music--that the biggest challenge in writing a great song isn't the intro or the ending; great intros and endings are a dime a dozen. The real challenge is in writing the perfect Middle Eight.

What is the middle eight, you ask? In the most basic thirty-two bar pop songs, the middle eight is that part that's neither verse nor chorus; it's often referred to as the bridge, as well. It deviates from the structure of the verse-chorus progression, often changing key and/or shifting into minor and seventh chords. In many modern pop-rock songs, it also serves as a transitory section into an instrumental or solo. And when it's done right, it can turn a good song into a pop masterpiece.

My appreciation for this particular aspect of pop music was imbued in me by my father; a great middle-eight, he always said, should be your favorite part of a song. A great middle-eight could help a song pass his ultimate test of pop excellence: it would give him goosebumps. The perfect minor chord progression under a catchy melody and killer harmony, leading into a sustained vocal peak--it often feels like a tiny little song unto itself before moving seamlessly back into the main theme. Dad raised me on The Beatles, so they are, of course, his standard for all pop songwriting (as they should be). We'll begin our playlist, then, with my very favorite Beatles middle eight: "We Can Work It Out" (0:37 & 1:22)*. This middle-eight is the perfect illustration of what I described a few sentences ago; it's also the most memorable part of the song.

*Times shown represent the start of the middle-eight in each song.

Turning to more modern music, the middle-eight that has always blown us both (Dad and I, that is) away is from Fastball's "Warm Fuzzy Feeling" (0:54). This song, I believe, should be taught as a clinic on pop songwriting: the first verse hooks you in, the second takes it up a notch with harmony and the background vocals, the middle-eight takes twenty-two seconds to blow your mind, and the final verse cools you down, kicks you in the face with a minor-chord ending, and leaves you breathless, all in less than two minutes. Rinse, repeat. Lester Bangs would be proud.

A similarly structured--albeit longer--song, is Panic at the Disco's "When the Day Met the Night" (2:22). The dynamics of the verse-chorus change in this song, the veiled, calm beauty of the verse contrasted with the bright and sunny chorus (sorry, I know that's punny) is just excellent, but the vocal harmony and the strings in the middle-eight really put it over the top for me. The high note and even higher harmony that ends the bridge of "Fallen Leaves" (2:05), from Billy Talent, is a soaring end to its staccato-based minor section, and the "la-la-la-la" background of Head Automatica's "Scandalous" (2:34) creates a standout on an aptly-named record (Popaganda) full of nearly flawless power-pop. Like "Fallen Leaves," the high note that peaks the middle-eight in Gavin DeGraw's excellent "Chariot" (2:08) makes me want to fly, indeed. In slightly heavier territory (and in better days for this band), the middle-eight of "Earthquake" (1:47) by The Used is the most powerful moment of a spectacular rock ballad, as Bert begs: "have I murdered our love?"

I'll almost certainly be slammed for admitting this, but I really like Matchbox Twenty. Please don't take this to mean that I like Rob Thomas; Rob Thomas is a tool, and his solo music is balls. But what began as a catchy but typical 90's band became a power-pop powerhouse with Mad Season and More Than You Think You Are. The middle-eight from "All I Need" (2:16)--a song already full of perfectly-placed minor and seventh chords--has been a favorite of mine for years for the way it pulls the song into the guitar solo.

Back to less embarrassing entries: House of Heroes is one of the most criminally under-appreciated power-pop/rock bands operating today; their The End is Not The End is a nearly perfect combination of pop hooks, concept themes and impressive musicianship. It's tough not to sing along as the middle-eight of "Leave You Now" (1:22) finishes, falsetto-style, with "the only ending that is fitting is you and me, baby." Another of my less-appreciated stand-bys (and one that actually has been mentioned 'round these parts before) is Great Big Sea. "When I Am King" (1:12) is just so unapologetic in its optimism, you can't help but smile through the cheese of it all. From GBS' fellow Canadians The Waking Eyes, the bluesy "Wolves at the Door" (1:55) leads into a slide-guitar solo with an anthemic bridge that bursts with energy. Fountains of Wayne have been perhaps the most reliable Beatles-inspired power-pop band of the last decade; from their latest record, "Yolanda Hayes" (2:00) throws background vocals, a killer ending-harmony and a great horn section together for its bridge. "Sense of Henry" (3:12) has been a favorite song, solo and favorite middle-eight since I discovered I Mother Earth back in high school; it's not exactly pop, but this bridge is still the best part of the song.

Finally, I'll end with the fast, furious, thoroughly unkind and yet irresistible "She Was Dead" (1:27) from SR-71, the always-overlooked and consistently good rock band who wrote and recorded the original (and one-hundred percent better) version of "1985," which unfortunately propelled Bowling for Soup to stardom.

Remember, folks: the bread of the song sandwich--the intro and end--are the easy parts. The verse/chorus are certainly the meat, giving the whole concoction its volume. The middle-eight, then, I guess would be the cheese; you don't need it, but it sure makes the sandwich better. I'm not sure what I'm talking about anymore, but I do know that I love cheese. Love it.

As always, please weigh in with your own favorites, criticisms and/or insults.

Seriously, though. What Did I Expect?

Boys Like Girls: Love Drunk
[Columbia/Red Ink]

Okay, hang on a second. I'm confused. What did I just hear?

Let's back up for a moment. A few years ago, a friend introduced me to a band called Boys Like Girls.

(As an aside, I shall now provide you a frame of reference. This friend is enamored of all things "emo," and tends to be a bit dramatic with his music. He once cried, alone in his car, to a Miley Cyrus song. Make of that what you will.)

The Boys Like Girls of their eponymous 2006 debut were pretty innocuous. They were a bunch of kids playing pop-punk lite; fast, catchy, hook-based and radio-friendly, with high-pitched vocals and the kind of beats and themes that all but guaranteed a teen-driven gold certification. The music was terribly catchy, but held up fairly well even through over-saturation. They were the perfect hit, in that way: pervasive, but not really bothersome.

Returning, now, to Love Drunk, the shiny new Boys Like Girls release: I'm not entirely sure that it's them. For reals, kids. As I labored through a listen, I was not just reminded of, but convinced that I was actually hearing, all of the following: Fall Out Boy, Justin Timberlake, Pink, Carrie Underwood, and any and every American Idol winner and runner-up ever. Boys Like Girls have thrown their identity right out the fucking window. Rather than playing unoriginal music that happened to catch mainstream audiences, they are now trying with all their might to invade the ear drums of every FM radio listener in America. And, predictably, the product of such ambition is over-produced, superficial, and total shit.

I wish that the previous paragraph were more eloquent. I really do. I just can't put together a more graceful description of my disdain for Love Drunk, and I have a feeling that this will continue through the remainder of this review. I decided that I required a second listen, in order to properly eviscerate the record; this was a mistake. I'm distracted by how much I hate it. I swear to you, I just got lightheaded while trying to fight through "Someone Like You" for a second time. The first time these particular vibrations hit my aural cavity and signaled my neurons, I was simply left agape and in disbelief; "My life in the rear view/I'm running from Jesus/Dont know where I'm goin' to/Got nothin' to lose, I'm fightin' my demons/Been lookin' for someone like you," sung over the awful pop-country rhythm...well, there was just no way this could be real. And I was seven songs into this atrocious album when I hit the crest of disbelief. I don't have an issue with the presence of religion in music; music is often meant to be spiritually uplifting. I'm a sucker for a good ballad, too. But, guys--and this applies to this whole record--a little subtlety goes a long way. You've got to understand, folks: I'm the guy who lists "pop-punk apologist" in his bio on this site. In general, I like this kind of stuff. But Love Drunk...it's just...terrible. TERRIBLE.

There are AT LEAST four songs on this album that could be mistaken for Fall Out Boy. Bear in mind that I say this is as a fan of Fall Out Boy--at least they inject a touch of clever subversion and irony into their radio-friendly music. But Boys Like Girls' lead singer (I don't know his name, and I don't care) is trying his absolute damndest to sound like Patrick Stump. Gone is his winsome, youthful voice, replaced with a lower and entirely over-produced sound that I can only assume is meant to confuse children and top-40 morons (to call them zombies, as I'd thought to, would be an insult to the kick-ass walking dead) into thinking that they actually are Fall Out Boy. The remaining seven tracks could honestly have been performed by any of the acts I listed earlier, and they'd sound no different. They'd still sound like they were penned by a professional songwriter for a cookie-cutter performer with the expressed purpose of creating a number-one hit. They're tailor-made for total media overload, for club remixes and ringtones, with lyrics that will make for millions of lame high-school tweets and status updates. Even for a band that was never really good, this is utterly depressing. It's not even that I expected so much more; I didn't. But I certainly didn't expect this level of regression.

Now, by this point, I'm sure that no one reading is even thinking of ever hearing Love Drunk. (In fact, I'd wager that not one of our regular readers would have anyway; but we at TMITM occasionally have to keep ourselves on our toes with tripe like this.) But just to be absolutely sure, I'm going to leave you with "Two Is Better Than One." This is a duet with Taylor Swift. No, I'm not kidding. Dear friends, I need you to know that I do not hate you. I love you all and care for your well-being. But I've suffered, and so must you. You must know. Just push play, and think of this as a character-building exercise; if you make it through the whole song, you are strong indeed. And be glad I didn't upload "Someone Like You."

(Another aside: I have a friend (okay, not really a good friend; a facebook friend; an RA from college) who, a few months ago, spent about three weeks using facebook to express girlish excitement about attending a Taylor Swift concert. He kept posting how excited he was to go see "his girl" in concert. He's 29, married, and--to the best of my knowledge--does not actually know Taylor Swift. Weird? I think so.)



These are two of the biggest stars in pop music, folks. This is the future. Welcome to your nightmares.

Music news is back, whether you like it or not

Music news is back...It's something TK and I started over at Pajiba, and it's something the team as a whole will be continuing here at TMITM. Let's get it started...

The reunited duo of Slug (Atmosphere) and Murs (Living Legends), who go by the group name FELT, will release their third album November 17th. Felt, Vol. 3: A Tribute to Rosie Perez was produced by Aesop Rock. It is the follow up to 2005’s Felt, Vol. 2: A Tribute to Lisa Bonet and 2002’s Felt Vol. 1: A Tribute to Christina Ricci. The single "Protagonists" is available for free download on their Myspace page. -Felicia

When Activision, makers of Guitar Hero 5, recently released footage of a fully-playable Kurt Cobain in the game mouthing along to Bon Jovi, everybody, including Courtney Love and even Dave Grohl and Krist Novaselic, lost their shit. Activision says they have a signed release from Love to use Cobain's likeness (not to mention photos and videos of Cobain that she gave them). But, in a statement that shouldn't surprise anyone, Love claims she "dragged [her] ass" and never signed the papers. SO, once again, either Courtney Love was actually that lazy in signing legal documents, or she's lying/forgetting about something important involving her dead husband. Heroin's a hell of a drug. We'll probably update everyone when this whole thing gets settled. -Christian

Rhythms del Mundo Classics, a non-profit collaborative album, was released in July. It is a follow up to the 2006 release Rhythms del Mundo. The latest album features covers by The Killers, Cat Power and Jack Johnson, paired with various Cuban musicians. Proceeds benefit Artists Project Earth, a UK based charity that works for climate change awareness and helps victims of natural disasters. Click here for the track listing, and here is Keane's cover of "Under Pressure." And yeah, it kind of sucks. -Felicia

In other Activision-made music video game news, the company has pulled a major coup in the creation of their new game DJ Hero. Rolling Stone reports that, after already gathering tracks from DJ Shadow, Grandmaster Flash, DJ Jazzy Jeff, and DJ AM (plus an endorsement from Jay-Z), they've now gotten Daft Punk to not only create 11 exclusive new tracks but to also use their likenesses as playable characters in the game. Most of the new tracks are mashups, and only 8 have been announced so far. You can find them, and more geeky electronic news here. -Christian

The Beatles music catalog on iTunes announcement never came during the Apple press conference in San Francisco last week. I was a little disappointed, even though I feel like The Beatles are best when listened to on vinyl. If the rumors are true, the announcement will come sooner than later. In the meantime, The Beatles’ remastered albums came out last week, which we reported over on Pajiba a few months ago. -Felicia

We mentioned on Pajiba a few weeks ago that the former Death Row Records, now WIDEawake Death Row, re-released Dr. Dre's The Chronic last month. Now they will be releasing Snoop Dogg's The Lost Sessions Vol . 1 on October 13th. The never before released tracks is WIDEawake's attempt to reinvigorate the Death Row label and pay homage to their stars. A possible new TuPac release will follow. -Felicia

And with that, here's your Monday Playlist.

TK: One of the most criminally unrecognized hip hop acts of the early 90's were Philadelphia's The Goats. I stumbled upon them on a compilation album I got for free from a record store, and promptly ran out and bought their stellar first album, Tricks of the Shade. There are so many standout tracks on the album, it's hard to pick a favorite, but on the basis of the hook alone, I'm going with "Whatcha Got Is Whatcha Gettin'." Sadly, they wouldn't be able to capture that same lightning in a bottle again, later releasing the fun (though not as smart, clever or politically charged) No Goats No Glory. But in 1992, there were few better hip hop groups out there.

Chris: I've always found Mount Eerie interesting. In fact I've always found Phil Elverum's musical endeavors worth a listen, whether it be under his own name or the Microphones moniker or whatever. Plus the fact that he books almost exclusively All Ages shows is impressive and honorable. But despite all this, no song of his has really clicked with me. Like truly made me fall in love with his style of doomy yet winsome anti-folk. That is, until I heard "Lost Wisdom Pt. 2" from the new Mount Eerie album Wind's Poem. It's simultaneously destructive and endearing, like his music in general, but with a certain kind of unforgettable punch that digs into the skull and never burrows its way back out.

Sean: I needed to wash the memory of a recent mistake from my ears (check back tomorrow) and remind myself that there is some decent music out there that falls under the silly label of "emo." To that end, I went back to The Classic Crime. It's thick and slick rock, with a lot of production behind it, but also with quite a bit of heart and talent. It almost feels like arena rock, but with a bit more originality than most of the garbage that finds its way onto mainstream radio. Hey, at least their influences reach past Fall Out Boy and Justin Timberlake. From The Silver Cord, this is "5805." I'm a sucker for this kind of thing.

Caspar: Laura Gibson, 'Nightwatch'. This wonderfully lilting song, taken from her very excellent album If You Come To Greet Me, is deceptively simple: the piano and violin give it a sort of lullaby feel, but there's a lot of craft in this song, and so much depth of feeling. I love so many different things in it: the quiet chap who harmonises with her; the way she intones 'bring you back' like a hopeful mantra; the opening note of the violin when it comes in; and, especially, Gibson's beautiful phrasing - the way she dwells on a word and savours its sounds, cloaking her sentences with a husky loveliness.



Enjoy your week, folks. We'll be around.

Collection of Blah

Collective Soul: Collective Soul (2009)
[Roadrunner Records]

Collective Soul is the band’s second self-titled record, and their eighth studio release.

Did you know that? Collective Soul has put out eight studio albums? I didn’t know that.

Yeah…”Whoa-oh-ooh-whoa, [wah-oo-wah-oo-wah], brother let your light shine…” Yeah. Those guys.

The only Collective Soul record I’ve ever owned is, fittingly, their other self-titled release from 1995; I was a freshman in high school at that time. In many ways, Collective Soul (designated by the band as Rabbit, and hereafter referred to as such) reminds me of my fifteen year-old self: largely inoffensive due to being generally polite, but rather bland and indistinct due to having absolutely no balls. Thankfully, I managed to (over time) develop some confidence, mature, learn from life experiences, and am an entirely different person now, fourteen years later. Collective Soul, on the other hand, seems content to not only give this record the same name, but basically recreate the music of its fourteen year-old predecessor. As I said, it’s largely inoffensive, but absolutely equivalent to the sad, lonely man that would be writing this now had I not socially, emotionally and mentally progressed since the age of fifteen.

Being that my familiarity with Collective Soul has lapsed so completely, I did something different when listening to Rabbit: I took some notes.

Also, I only listened to it once, and probably will not again.

I didn’t write anything down for the opening track, “Welcome All Again,” because it’s actually pretty good. It’s catchy and upbeat with a decent lead riff. The rest of my notes, however, consist basically of multiple uses of the words “blah” and “90s,” punctuated by a few serious complaints. That’s the gist of Rabbit: a lot of unremarkable sound punctuated by some truly bad music. The second track, “Fuzzy,” for instance, is a train-wreck; between the completely obnoxious whistling, the not-at-all appealing melody, and the fact that it’s at least a full minute too long (at least), the phrase that I used to sum it up is “whole song sucks.” “Dig” finds Collective Soul attempting—unsuccessfully—to channel heavier modern bands like Anberlin or The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. “Understanding” is a prime example of why lead singer Ed Roland should really quit with the falsetto. There’s a decent guitar solo, but the extremity of the song’s tempo changes destroys any flow it may have had; jarring dynamics can work for certain bands—not this one.

“Understanding” and “You” are the first songs that Collective Soul has ever written together as a band. Ed Roland attributes this to “the confidence that the other guys have gotten in their music skills and the songwriting and also, for lack of a better term, me letting go of my ego a little bit...” Wow; two whole songs, huh? You, sir, are a shining example of selflessness.

Honestly, you don’t even need to hear an example track from Rabbit. Aside from a decent opener and a pretty little closer (“Hymn For My Father”), it offers nothing noteworthy. It’s milquetoast, with a couple of rotten eggs on the side. It’s slightly worse than bland, because the intermittent fart smell will distract you from your dozing. Imagine, if you will, that nondescript teenager, probably dressed in his very best concert t-shirt (Aerosmith, no less), meekly asking out a cute, self-possessed teenage girl who has a real identity and self-esteem and everything. You can’t even root for him as the underdog, because there’s absolutely nothing distinguishable on which to latch. Only as she’s letting him down briefly and politely (because he is completely uninteresting), he randomly shouts “what the FUCK?” a couple of times. Not pretty, is it? Almost as unpleasant as these continued and irrelevant 1990s high school analogies, right? (A side note: I never did the yelling thing.)

You, dear reader, are the cute girl. Just say no.