Polysics
Sounds Like: a Japanese scientist joins a Swedish indie band
See Also: Devo, Kraftwerk, Astroman
NEU
Yeah, this record was released in the United States almost a year ago. But chances are you still haven't heard this band. So it's new to you, right? Plus, Polysics will be playing Solar Culture tomorrow. Frenetic, noisy and occasionally adorable, the songs from NEU are the sound of a surf band that traded in its boards for analog keyboards. Splotches of indeterminate electronic noise bleed through tight, fuzzed-out guitar structures, or else drone and pulse on the verses until dissolving into the chorus. The vocoded vocals on the song "What" are either in gibberish or Japanese, but it hardly matters. That just goes to prove that the Polysics speak the only truly universal language: rock.
÷ Mark Sussman
Stars
Sounds Like: the soundtrack to a San Francisco wedding
See Also: Momus, Belle and Sebastian
Heart
"I am Evan and this is my heart."
And so begins the tragic journey that is Stars' sophomore (and sophomoric) effort, Heart. It's hard to fault lead singer Evan Cranley, you know, since it's his "heart" or whatever. But Evan needs to realize that pouring all his sadness into an album doesn't mean it's going to be epic.
And that's the problem with Heart. It tries to be mind-blowing and life-altering, and forgets that it's only an album. Each track is of the album-closer variety, full of grand build-ups and powerful bridges. There is no range of emotion on the album, as the keyboards and light vocals moan heartache from the get-go.
÷ Nate Buchik
The Coral
Sounds Like: The Strokes remixed The Beatles' White Album
See Also: David Bowie
Magic and Medicine
With Magic and Medicine and the mini-LP Nightfreak and the Sons of Becker that comes with the album's first pressings, The Coral is simultaneously trying too hard and not trying hard enough.
Like its first, self-titled album, this is weird but not interesting enough to be avant-garde. And at the same time, it's not tight enough to be all that good.
The instrumentation has its moments in haunting organ playing and dark demonic jazz guitar progressions demonstrated on the first track, "In The Forest." The band does a good job of establishing a lazy and sinister mood at the same time. In that way, the album has succeeded.
÷ Gabe Joselow
Gold Cash Gold
Sounds Like: '70s psychedelic music gone ... oh, wait, it's already bad.
See Also: Creed, Aerosmith
Paradise Pawned Vol.1
A really great way to have boring pseudo-'70s rock put out by big labels is to say you're from Detroit. The band even named its album after a real pawnshop in Detroit, which is probably prophetic in a way because these guys will be pawning their equipment for rent in no time.
Targeted specifically at a 15-year-old who has no taste and has gone through three copies of "Dazed and Confused." GCG is the most hideous thing to hit the streets this decade. It isn't the overdone stolen blues melodies that make this band so unendurable, or the almost laughable song titles ("Beautiful Stones" and "Spaced Out") and lyrics, or even the spacey guitars. Stay away from this album or anyone who thinks it's "tripped out."
÷ Eli Herman
Ted Leo
Sounds Like: The Clash reborn
See Also: The Jam, Elvis Costello, Think Lizzy
Dirty Old Town
It's really about time somebody made a film about Ted Leo. The bulk of the film is footage of his performance with his band, The Pharmacists, at Coney Island in the summer of 2003.
Despite some bafflingly poor editing and iffy sound that you might expect from live performances, the film does a great job of capturing the energy of one of the most dynamic and hardworking artists in rock today. In fact, you can safely say that the success of this film relies entirely on the energy that Leo brings into it. His ability to harmoniously combine singing and guitar playing with eloquent and articulate songwriting is a feat seldom accomplished by rockers today.
÷ Gabe Joselow