Page 32 - the NOISE August 2012

Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros
13th Floor Elevators. There’s no jug, but there’s plenty of incidental synthesizer noise, wah, and psychedelic flourish. And bongos.
Comparing this to earlier efforts, however, I like the direction these songs and bongos point to. It’s a strong enough recording for me to continue to bookmark the band and to make sure to catch them if they make it to this side anytime soon. Eric Hat, this album has your name on it. Yeah, that’s right.
I ended up spending a lot of time with this one this month- I kept coming back to it, enjoy- ing it more and more, hearing new things. So, and you might know this already, but the rat- ing system is fairly arbitrary. How do you rank something you’ve just got a month to listen to, & way more likely, listened to once or twice? You just put it on your ‘Best of ’ list at the end of the year & hope that gets the word out. — FC
Hobo Bastard
Turd Humans Rise EP Self-Released
jjj
The Hobo Bastard can be an elusive creature. That’s the nature of hobos, right? What needs to be made clear is the difference between the Northern Arizona Hobo and the Southern Arizona Hobo, especially this time of year. The Northern Arizona Hobo is an amiable enough person. Reasonably intelligent and well adjust- ed, the Northern Arizona Hobo has his prob- lems of course, but let’s think about the crea- ture that either doesn’t have the means or the mental capacity to find somewhere that isn’t a thousand degrees to hobo around in. This is an entirely different personality with a vastly dif- ferent temperament.
There are some things the Hobo Bastard has in common worldwide. They are underrated environmentalists. They might leave their en- tire campsite, cans of beans and hot dog pack- ages and start the occasional fire with their ne- glect, but compared to the average American consumer, never mind American business, the Hobo Bastard is almost without carbon foot- print.
The Phoenix Hobo Bastard, as the one cap- tured on this record, is a very special amalgam of some of the toughest and most resilient ma- terials and biochemicals known to humankind.
I was able to find one and speak briefly with him about this new record.
FC: What’s your alcoholic beverage of choice,
sir?
HB: Whatever has the most alcohol content for the least amount of money.
FC: So, where are you from, Hobo Bastard?
HB: What’d you call me?
At that point, his body language insisted I leave the premises immediately.
This particular Hobo Bastard on “Turd Hu- mans Rise” isn’t anything too special unless one enjoys the sunny, crusty sounds of the legions of pop punk bands out there. The songs are well-constructed and high energy. The vocals are gravely and the melodies are great. A beer soaked house party in four easy to listen to
are grooving on. And the tape manipulation intro is tits. — FC
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
Here
Violent Records & Rough Trade Records
jjj
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros snuck into the hippie music scene in 2009 with their wildly popular underground album Up From Below, featuring the radio-abused single
“Home.” With three years of extensive touring and more marijuana consumed between the members than Jeff Spicoli could smoke in a lifetime, Edward Sharpe finally thought it time to release a new LP while their popularity was still plentiful. The 10-piece indie-folk, neo-psy- chedelic band, whose members might as well have time traveled straight from 1967 Haight- Ashbury, released the nine-track Here on May 29th to wild success. The album debuted at #5 on the Billboard 200 and sold 35,000 copies in its first week. Needless to say, it’s a great follow up to their debut.
The first track on Here is called “Man on Fire,” which picks things up nice and mellow, with eerie harmonies that evoke a feeling of hol- lowed content. The song just proves yet again that, though the band has ten members, they never overdo the multitude of instruments and voices apparent in generally all their music. Instead of sounding like a bunch of pots and pans on New Year’s Eve, like Los Campesinos, they use their multi-instrumental upbringings to create a sound that can only be attributed to them. The second song on the album, “That’s What’s Up,” sees lead vocals shifted to the fiery rocket of a Caucasian gospel singer, Jade Cas- trinos. The song is more upbeat than the first track, and sets a scene that almost brings the listener to a back country road, with an image of Castrinos marching the band down the un- paved dirt as the birds sing along and the sun dances in the sky.
Lead singer and former addict Alex Ebert, founder of Edward Sharpe, leads the band in the third track like a half-crazed conductor, mustering his musicians into an old-timey, toe- tappin’ ditty, “I Don’t Wanna Pray.” As Ebert sug- gests with the song’s lyrics, “I don’t wanna pray to my maker, I just wanna be feelin’ free.” The song is joyously liberating, and almost brings Br’er Rabbit in his laughing place, as the band seems to smile their way through the jingle.
The fourth song on Here takes the groove down a few notches. “Mayla” is relatively uneventful, but is still an easy listen with group-hymn har- monies driving the fusion of exotic instruments and unforgettable melodies.
The fifth song is the middle song of the LP and is thus an important factor in tying it to- gether. Fortunately, it does a decent job. “Dear Believer” is a simple song, with simple connota- tions. Harp-driven with a steady, easy beat. The sixth song, “Child,” is another slow jam, with personal and intricate lyrics. The background music and simple bass beat create the perfect atmosphere for Ebert’s seeming childhood confessions and youthful angst.
The seventh song almost won my heart over in its first couple seconds, as it started out with a simple, funky bass line. But as “One Love to Another” continued, I realized how difficult it was going to be not to lose interest in the monotony and repetition. Aside from a few questionable licks towards the end, the song seems to be 15 seconds on repeat. “Fiya Wata” is the eighth song and is one of my favorites on the album. The song is led by Castrinos and is without doubt the most epic track on Here. This song might’ve been a better fifth song to tie the album together, but it’s also a great sec- ond-to-last as it leaves the listener with an opus to forget about the low key mid-album tracks.
The last track is entitled “All Wash Out” and is majestically glorious. Picture a cloudy, misty day on the Northern California coast, around Crescent City, then imagine the perfect song to listen to while staring out into the thick noth- ingness as the waves come crashing towards the rocks you sit on. I’m pleased with what we’re left with for another few years before the band records again, assuming they do.
“All Wash Out” shows off the talent of all ten members of the group, with beautiful piano, a brass section, distant drums, and infused sounds from instruments or gadgets I don’t recognize. Here may not have the notoriety of Up From Below, and may not deserve as much as the groundbreaking 2009 release. But what Edward Sharpe’s latest does do, if not blow their debut out of the water, is show that these stoner hippies know how to write some awe- some music and collectively come together as
tracks. Thanks, Hobo Bastard.
The Upper Strata
Manifest
Self-Released
jjj
— FC
Track one is pure blues. Ry Cooder slide gui- tar. Thick percussive bass. That’s about it. It’s gorgeous. I could continue saying good things about it. Track two is more alterna-boring. Mid to late 90s bands like Cursive and Mineral come to mind. Track three is similar, but more Hootie and the Blowfish. The hippie chick at the show is up front on this one, spinning around, shak- ing it. Track four might be where the lighters come out. Nice guitar tones. Track five book- ends the EP with that wonderful slide guitar. The acoustic guitar is reminiscent of Dave Mathews.
Five songs, twenty minutes. Jonathan and Regula Sanchez put much love into this EP. It
comes through.
Happiness Machine
Metropolis Burn
Self-Released
jjjj
— FC
I told these gromits that they sound like Grimple and only one of ‘em knew what I was talking about. Burn doesn’t really sound like the East Bay band, but the vocal approach is reminiscent. I’m speaking to a limited audience at this point. So is Happiness Machine, though there’s nothing so gnarly here the college kids can’t go slam dance and pogo to these seven songs or whatever. These guys sound pissed at the world, all right. The bass sounds downright perfecto for what these Phoenix/Tucson guys
one.
— Tom Blanton
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32 • AUGUST 2012 • the NOISE arts & news magazine • thenoise.us