Page 34 - the NOISE October 2012

got an album?
got a review? music@thenoise.us
Ralph Jackson; Jason Molina; RIP Mark Erickson
been: “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. You came here to listen to the music, not us. We’ll be quiet.” Not once. EVERY time has been the same: hand on hip, “ExCUUUSE ME? WHAT did you just say? Did you ask my friends and I NOT to talk loudly while
Jimmy Cliff and band tear into a breathtaking ...” The girls at the Orpheum were SO insulted. One told me I could stand in front of them. Break down the logic of that, if you can. Appar-
ently a cone of silence forms over their heads. My friend who accompanied me to the show says I should just get used to this. I will not. I
don’t think common courtesy is that extraordi- nary a request. It’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t en- joy being an assh*le just to get people to shut up for five minutes.
“There is something on my mind so important that I absolutely must share it RIGHT NOW with my friends that I haven’t seen in 24 hours, after paying $35 to stand in the middle of a crowd who think they have also paid $35 apiece to en- joy the music. Well, all you folks are wrong. I am the center of attention here, and I will disrupt everyone’s concertgoing experience to prove this point. I have every right to broadcast my idiotic drunken blabbering to all within earshot. I know the people onstage can hear me and that it’s distracting and disrespectful to them as well, but I don’t care. Again, it’s real simple: ME ME ME ME ME. Not you. Not the band. Not reg- gae legend Jimmy Cliff. ME. Got it? What a jerk. Anyway, like I was saying ...”
of MGMT and the Shins’ better moments, as well as Vampire Weekend and Local Natives, somehow Poor Moon maintains a sense of fresh weirdness or weird freshness. If Spin Mag- azine wasn’t going down the toilet, these four would grace its cover soon enough, comparing these guys to Nick Drake, Serge Gainsbourg, Burt Bacharach and Syd Barrett or something. Why not?
“Pulling Me Down” is 2:46 of perfect pop led by the same strummed chords of Papa John Phillips and Garfunkel’s Paul Simon. And opener, “Clouds Below” is a well-chosen taste of the sophisticated pop contained within. And near-closer “Come Home” is bare and simple but with some unexpected chords thrown in tastefully. The album is nice and short, right as you feel like these guys have exhausted their bag of tricks, and even the tracks that aren’t instant hits have something really nice about them, whether it’s a good turn of phrase or tasty guitar lick, or just an overall feel, which is what these four guys are pulling off so well, this
didn’t even know about. Sustained aural or- gasms for as long as these two Brians care to play for, always on the floor, the most elitist of ‘egalitarian’ the-crowd-is-the-real-star bullsh*t. The band’s albums can only hint at the face flattening their live show has achieved since 1994, though only the lucky few in Providence, Rhode Island knew it back then. The band themselves have cited their success to pure volume, but for this reviewer it’s all about Brian Chippendale’s drums. Bjork recorded his drums for one of her overrated records. That’s a sum- marizing tid bit, one supposes.
It’s the new Grateful Dead, kids. Equipped with dirty traveling worship-y followers and all.
Green is a repenting preacher man, seek out. Actually, now that I’ve gone through a few, Jackson’s voice reminds me a lot of Mick Col-
lins’ from the Dirtbombs, but with the guitars deep in the back of the mix. And it’s all over by the time you’re wondering how many soulful choruses Jackson can do. A no brainer of a solid
soul record.
Marijuana Deathsquads
Tamper, Disable, Destroy
Self-Released
jjjj
— FC
Tune in or tune out or whatever.
Generationals
Lucky Numbers EP
Self-Released
jj
— FC
It’s a hip hop mixtape, it’s FREE, and it’s called Marijuana Deathsquads — that’s three big chiles without even listening to it. It’s noisy, weird, and at times, smooth and sexy. There’s a big dumb guitar solo in there, some refer- ences to wieners and vaginas, and not as many references to weed as one might think. Lots of sped up and slowed down vocals. All the usual stuff. And then there’s a Nine Inch Nails refer- ence thrown in there and who knows what else. I was too busy tripping out, waiting for Mad Lib and Fat Lip and all your favorites to jump in and make this the best mixtape ever. Those things never happened, but it didn’t really mat- ter. This thing explodes out of your speakers. Or I-phone earbuds as it were. —FC
Jason Molina
Autumn Bird Songs
Graveface Records
jjj
Jason Molina has had a rough couple of years. This 10” EP of eight songs is surfacing af- ter a hopefully healthy hiatus for this still young songwriter. I’m not really sure if these are new songs or old songs, but they are quite beautiful in a way that I’ve never heard on his recordings, as Songs: Ohia or as his given name. If you told me these were field recordings from way back in the day, I might just believe you. The songs, as a whole, have an off-kilter-ness to them that indy rock folkies strive for but rarely, if ever achieve. In another way, they sort of sound like James Taylor on his worst day of heroin with- drawal. The songs don’t echo survival but lone- liness and pain. It’s a heavy trip, and his fans, a loyal sort, should be rejoicing. — FC
overall sense of craft.
Lightning Bolt
Oblivion Hunter
Load
jjj
— FC
Fairly confident any of these three songs could be laid down in the middle of a Ladies 80s set and, other than that, they’re not quite immediately identifiable, the 80s Ladies would just keep dancing, and dancing, and dancing. It’s got that synthesizer sheen. I had a thing for this band, from what I had heard in the past; their pop sensibility seemed simpatico with all the Phil Spector/Beach Boy worship going around the ether. Perhaps, my musical crush was misguided, or these guys switched it up in
Just a Modest Proposal.
Sorry, Jimmy. I tried to keep it classy.
Poor Moon
s/t
Sub Pop
jjj
— TBZ
So there are two threads here. One is for if you’re familiar with Lightning Bolt and the sec- ond is for if you are not.
For those who are familiar, to answer your burning question, yes, this sounds like Light- ning Bolt. You could throw this in the middle of any of Lightning Bolt’s other records and it would fit right in. Their recording techniques are more sophisticated here, getting some of those bass/banjo sounds to really f*ck up your brain and speakers, through the use of science. And there’s some nice experiments here. But the drums and vocals are still buried deep in there, to echo the sound of their live show. All in all, LB have been creating and destroying to get here. Epic torn up black rainbows through a broken key lime sky.
For those who are not familiar, there’s a pret- ty good chance you do not like noisey music, or forward thinking rock n roll or large crowds of sweaty young people exuding so much joy it looks like all the things your mother warned you about times one thousand and a few she
a big way. Either way, blegh.
Ralph ‘Soul’ Jackson
Alabama Love Man
The Rabbit Factory
jjjj
— FC
I’m not a Fleet Fox fan. This might ruin my credibility with 99.8% of college students, but I’m okay with that. For this listener, there’s just too much CS and N but not enough Y in the Foxes of Fleet’s slick vocal harmony-heavy laid back beard rock.
Poor Moon share members with Fleet Foxes, and I’m not going to look up which one (it’s Christian Wargo and Casey Wescott) and by all means, this sounds like FF’s younger, more talented brother. It sounds very today. Which sounds like 60s psychedelic pop. Reminiscent
You mean you haven’t heard of Ralph ‘Soul’ Jackson? Yeah, well, steeped in Muscle Shoals history as well as the drugs and vices that lead to any good legend behind the legend story, you know what this debut album is going to sound like: funk-y.
Jackson has kept good care of his pipes, and the production is top notch. What else do you need to know?
If I were in charge of this record’s marketing, I might try: If the last records you bought all have Sharon Jones in the title, this is your next purchase. Or: If you can’t stand the fact that Al
34 • OCTOBER 2012 • the NOISE arts & news magazine • thenoise.us