The Load (6/2/10)

June 2nd, 2010 by Oswald Hobbes / Comment on this post

Welcome back to the Load, where we cast our eye towards the latest and greatest in independent rock ‘n’ roll. Now available in capsule form:

I Call Fives -- Bad Advice

The mildly-addictive pop-punk on I Call Fives’ new digital EP Bad Advice is kind of like Dairy Queen’s soft-serve ice cream -- it’s sweet, but not decadent, and delivers exactly the right amount of gratifcation without spilling into overindulgence. If you like The Wonder Years or Set Your Goals, this’ll be right up your alley, and even moreso if you regularly update your tumblr with particularly trenchant lyrics from your favorite bands. This is mall punk at its shiniest and most compressed; if you welded a bunch of power chords together, melted them down into a silver bullet, and shot it into your ear, that’s kind of what I Call Fives is like. (This presupposes that you have technology that can transform sound waves into metal; simile does not apply for all listeners.) They have some cool tricks, too -- the way they layer a few voices together into an overlapping round on “Two Days Or A Lifetime Of Failure” is a nice substitution for the typical double-kick throat-buster breakdown that most bands would’ve gone with. I’d object to the set-closing ballad “Take The Fall” simply on the grounds of unearned wussiness, but it breaks into warp speed at the end for a nice little cherry on this low-cal sundae. I Call Fives basically sound like any other pop-punk band, and they need to find their own twist on the genre before they can create something truly compelling, but I could still listen to this stuff all day. It’s the pleasure principle, man.

MySpace | Last.fm | Facebook

The Viaducts -- EP

I recently caught the Viaducts live at darkroom, and their unique take on classic power-pop compelled me to drop $3 on this self-released EP. The ‘Ducts, as I call ‘em, have a true independent spirit -- this is music that acts like other music doesn’t even exist. Their big hit (judging from the drunk dude who kept yelling for it at the show I attended) is “Drive-Thru Girl,” which is pretty much the same thing as Bruce Springsteen’s idiotic “Queen Of The Supermarket,” if you stripped off the studio gloss and slowed it down (and somehow made it more idiotic). I prefer “Tell Me Sister,” which is, I think, a pretty sincere request of the singer’s sister, imploring her to tell him why she’s so sad. Speaking of the singer, his name is Jimmy Rane and the EP’s credits make sure to let you know that he wrote all of the songs included here, so he obviously takes himself pretty seriously as a songwriter. He shouldn’t -- this is about as basic and bare-bones as you can get, especially since the guitar is mixed so low that you can only hear it during the solos - but I find it pretty cool that he does anyway. When I was twelve I received the Dumb and Dumber soundtrack as part of a wildly off-kilter trade with Cory Tendering, and my first thought upon hearing the Viaducts was “These guys should’ve been on the Dumb and Dumber soundtrack.” You can take that however you want to; the Viaducts are gonna take their schtick straight to the bank. Could this be a contender for album of the year? No. But it’s the most fun I’ve had for $3 since I bought a handjob from Robert Downey Jr in 2002.

Official Site | MySpace | Facebook

Balance and Composure / Tigers Jaw -- Split

Balance and Composure is an odd name for a band so totally committed to losing their shit at such regular intervals. The first four songs of this split are theirs, and, were I in charge of such things, I might’ve flipped that around -- Tigers Jaw (hailing, I kid you not, from Scranton, PA) are more tuneful and reserved, with better potentional for easing casual listeners into the balls-out maelstrom that B&C set loose. Balance and Composure (also from Pennsylvania, although not anywhere funny) do the real tight-wire stuff here -- their songs are long, complex, and hard, with plenty of pummeling riffs and explosive tempo changes. The band is great at the sharp, angular stuff that gets all the math nerds fondling their calculators, but they don’t neglect the sensitive, thoughtful side of their persona -- they’re all over the spectrum. Chaos is always exciting, but especially when it’s executed with this much verve and precision. Tigers Jaw are less exciting but more consistent and listenable; they throw some moody keyboards into the mix, giving their music a softer, more inviting feel. They also kind of sound like Brand New. Overall this split is exactly what you need if you aren’t feeling angsty enough today; listening to this for a few hours got me firmly back into my old awkward teenage headspace, and that’s actually a pretty cool place to visit. I am totally surprised by how much I enjoy this record. Road trip to Pennsylvania, anyone?

Balance and Composure: MySpace | Last.fm | Facebook
Tigers Jaw: MySpace | Last.fm | Tumblr

How To Destroy Angels -- EP

How To Destroy Angels (or, as I call them, Trent Reznor’s Crystal Castles) have shrouded themselves in mystery so far, offering only vague info about the makeup of the group and some pretty weird videos on their Vimeo channel. But now we have this whole EP, full of industrial squelches and blips and bloops, and I must say: this is the best thing Reznor’s had his name on since The Fragile. It further explores his recent ambient-leaning tendencies while also making time for some dance-ready beats. Vocals are supplied by Reznor’s wife, former-West Indian Girl singer Mariqueen Maandig, who has a pleasing if somewhat affectless voice. Her pipes are best put to use by “A Drowning,” which sounds like M83 getting gently roughed up and wouldn’t feel out of place on the Lost Boys 3 soundtrack. Where the disc falters a little is on the clubbier stuff -- “BBB” and “Fur Lined” are marvels of tech-geek compositional flair and they move with a sleek, streamlined economy that Nine Inch Nails, as tied to total sensory overload as that band/concept was, never quite managed, but Maandig lacks the personality to really push them through the speaker. Hardcore Trent-heads should enjoy “The Space In Between” and “Parasite” for the way they polish up and advance ideas Reznor first started exploring in the late 90s -- the dirty, heavy, impressionistic stuff that’s become his bread-and-butter since shunning the commerical spotlight for the sterile confines of his studio. This EP covers basically all the bases you could ask it to, and ends just before the group’s kinda limited aesthetic can grow tiresome. I’m psyched for the eventual full-length, but I hope they discover some new colors in their palette before then.

Official Site | MySpace | Vimeo

The Webelos -- Model Citizen

I am, generally, not a huge power-pop guy. Wasn’t always that way; I used to blast Michael Penn’s first record at full volume all day long. But somewhere along the way, I lost my taste for the genre. It all flooded back, though, when I popped in Model Citizen, the debut EP from Chicago’s own The Webelos. Billing themselves as “America’s #1 scout-rock band” and adopting a genially dorky aesthetic (the CD looks like it’s some kind of interactive learning game from 1993), The Webelos definitely stand out -- there’s a refreshing innocence to their music that speaks to the eight-year-old boy inside me. But the hooks are straight-up adult: imagine if Fountains of Wayne copped their moves from Trust-era Elvis Costello and didn’t bother with all the jokes. The surging guitar riff that anchors ”Peace For The Wicked” pretty much steals the show by virtue of its overpowering melodic aggression, but you’ll find plenty to love on the other five tracks. “Oh Miki” is a welcome country excursion, complete with some sweet pedal steel, and “Lucky Roll” captures the essence of ’90s Costello without succumbing to arrangement overkill. Model Citizen is a fine entry in a long and proud pop tradition, and something genuinely interesting from our hometown. Is there a merit badge for fun?