(HVM) 36 Degrees of Izzy

Emily Wells and Her Post-Apocalyptic Nursery Rhymes

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Wed, 02 May 2012 05:15:00 +0000

“I’ve taken up running, which has completely changed my perception of music,” Emily Wells tells me during a recent convo…

Emily Well’s aesthetic has been a pastiche of playful contradictions that, somehow, always seem to work almost perfectly. Her sound generally falls into the realm and demographic of postmodern folk, however it also owes itself to the classical (She is, after all, a violinist, and has released an album of symphonies.) and has a swagger heavily indebted to Hip-Hop (In 2009 she recorded a cover of the Notorious B.I.G.’s “Juicy,” with her violin, that was just about the furthest thing on the planet from a “novelty.”) However, she admits “I can’t listen to anything slow when I run. I listen to a lot of rap and dark electronic music.”

Emily is currently in the middle of touring behind her latest LP, Mama, which was released on April 10th, courtesy of Partisan Records: “It’s a new experience. I’ve never been on a label before. It’s nice to have people with you.” The sounds found on Mama are actually far less postmodern in composition than most of her previous work. Certain songs were recorded in one take, abandoning punch-ins and loops completely. However, they still maintain their postmodern aesthetic, along the lines of a lo-fi brand of trip-hop that could pass for post-apocalyptic nursery rhymes. The album’s best track is “Passenger,” which desperately needs to score the most prolific scene in the most prolific Mumblecore film of all-time.

Wells has gained quite a reputation for her live performances, which have been described as a ”one-woman orchestra,” which have her, along with her violin and loop pedal, “playing live drums, guitars, analog synthesizers and beat machines.” However, the comparisons that are regularly drawn are not necessarily those which she finds to be most accurate: “A lot of people do loops and all that kind of stuff. People are automatically going to compare me to Andrew Bird and tUnE-yArDs, and I don’t feel like I’m necessarily anything like those artists.” She does, however, find certain contemporary peers to be quite inspiring, citing Twin Shadow and “The way they moved,” working as a fluid and cohesive unit onstage, as something larger than the individual band members: “I love when people are honest onstage, but also so dialed into their craft.”

In addition to being a songwriter and producer, Emily Wells recently added filmmaker to her repertoire when she directed her own video for the aforementioned “Passenger.” Although the video demonstrates an impressive grasp on the whole high-art-composition-of-home-videos thing that is present in today’s best music videos, art installations, and avant-garde cinema, she admits to me “I’m in no way a film buff, not that I don’t like a good movie. I like dark realism… I like cheesy movies too, I’m not gonna lie.” She does, however, admit to having a number of significant non-musical influences from other realms of the arts: “I was heavily influenced by Raymond Carver and John Updike. I got really into like drunk, middle-aged men, which is weird because I was in my early 20s at the time.” She also tells me that Geek Love by Katherine Dunn was a huge influence.

As far as what’s next for Emily, that will likely be Pillowfight, her long-in-production project with producer Dan the Automator: “This record has actually been done since before Mama was done.” And in terms of what fans can expect of the project, she tells me “The production’s super hot. The beats are super hot. The content’s really dark and honest.” However, it’s in her description of her workings with DTA that strike me as the project’s biggest selling-point: “I just got to be a singer and a lyricist. Dan has his thing that he does, so when you come in as a collaborator, you can focus on anything other than that. He gave more value to my voice than I’ve ever given value to my voice.”

Philthy Izzy’s Highlights of 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 06:15:00 +0000

So I may rarely leave Philadelphia but, trust me, I get around… well, musically speaking. Although I only left Center City four times this year, I did make it out to more than 80 concerts. The ten best ran the gamut from Piano Pop to Noise Pop to Post-Hardcore and Digital Hardcore. And the settings ran the gamut from an historical opera house to a church basement and an Ivy League. Are there any themes? Feel free to tell me.

10. The Cute Lepers @ Kung Fu Necktie (9/2)
The greatest thing about The Cute Lepers is that they are, in thirty minutes (or even a single song), capable of convincing you that the greatest music of all-time (Lou Reed, New York Dolls, The Rolling Stones, etc.) is not only prolific, but that it can be joyously playful. Their brand of Power Pop channels all of the heroes of music history’s greatest era, without ever attempting to convince you that you need to be one of “the cool kids.”

9. …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead @ First Unitarian Church (5/12)
You’d never think a band called “…And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead” would ever be referred to as “nostalgic”… but alas. In an odd juxtaposition, this year the band both stripped down (to a four piece, including my old buddy, Jamie Miller, of theSTART, Snot, and Normandie) and pomped up with a concept album comprised of 16 “movements.” However, the fans in attendance seemed less interested in the new material and more interested in their “Days of Being Wild” (both literally and figuratively), with tracks from 2002’s Source Tags & Codes and 2005’s Worlds Apart garnering all of the audience appreciation awards for the night. It was a night for former “alt youth,” now holding somewhat “respectable” positions as adults (I am a college professor, after all… and had to be up at 6am to lecture the following day.) to relieve our teen years with a little more refinement. Sure the band weren’t nearly as “explosive” (literally) as they were a decade ago, but Jason Reece still managed to make his way into the audience, guitar in hands, in a way that was the furthest thing from gimmicky and those of us left to shift his weight on and off of us in a manner that could only be described as balletically punk were reassured that those songs we had used to existentially soundtrack our youth were, even in hindsight, completely fucking amazing.

8. Deer Tick @ Harrison Auditorium (10/14)
Watching Deer Tick play the auditorium of an Ivy League was a bit Spinal Tap… but in a good way. The audience was neatly organized by non-removable rows of seating, it was dry and, because of a student discount… most of those in attendance were actually UPenn freshmen. However, they did manage to churn out the better part of Divine Providence (the year’s most brilliant release), a collection of songs meant for drinking, crying, farting, and fighting, with very few circumstantial hindrances. Their country ballads were just as somber and sincere. Their punk anthems were just as… “punk” and “anthemic.” And their behavior was just as crass and confrontational, despite the setting… actually, probably more so because of it.

7. Those Darlins @ Johnny Brenda’s (6/16)
Considering that music’s biggest badasses would seem to come from the realm of [minimally-commodified] punk and country, it’s surprising that the two genres don’t hook up more frequently. Not surprising, is that two who seem to hook the genres up better than all the rest are actually hooking up in a more traditional sense: Deer Tick’s John McCauley and Those Darlins’ Nikki Darlin are married? It does seem at least slightly political that I would have Those Darlins’ latest Philly gig just one spot ahead of Deer Tick’s, although I don’t think that was intentional. Those Darlins’ shows evoke the spirit of Hank Williams, Ramones, and Russ Meyer. They’re hoedowns for erotic punk abandon… and pretty much all you could ever ask for of a live performance.

6. Sleigh Bells @ The Trocadero (5/8)
Sleigh Bells are the most intellectual and intelligent outfit to sell out a 1,200-capacity venue all year. Their appropriation and cultural critique of the Rock spectacle, synthetic reproduction, consumer culture, and dance music is the most impressive I’ve seen since…(#2 on our list)

5. YACHT @ First Unitarian Church (4/26)
Never before have I seen ½ of an audience (and a respectable one, at that) storm a stage without being invited and the band not blink. YACHT are very into pop music and they’re also very into semiotics. They’re also very into stylish and joyous transgression. This evening they previewed their latest release, Shangri-La, with a performance that resembled a loving riot. At times they were Joy Division, at times they were Philip K. Dick, and at times they were Michael Jackson… but, for the majority of the time, they were all at once. It was flowery, anarchistic, and intellectual. And everyone in attendance, who danced along with them, lost at least one pant-size that night. (Read my recent interview with Claire Evans.)

4. The Airborne Toxic Event @ The Trocadero (5/7 and 5/9)
The second night of The Airborne Toxic Event’s two-night stand at the Trocadero is the only time I’ve ever nearly given myself a concussion… and is there really any better review than that? They write songs that can catch the ear of the average “music fan,” but they’re also more-than-well-versed in the musically postmodern… they’re also very well read. TATE produces spectacles that are both popularly epic and abrasively and recklessly anti-pop. I suspect their live shows would impress Barnum, Iggy Pop, and Joyce.

3. Lenka/Elizabeth & the Catapult @ North Star Bar (6/11)
Everybody knows (pun intended) that piano pop is pretty much my favorite thing in the world and I’m not sure that there has ever been a better display of it than Lenka and Elizabeth Ziman’s (and her Catapult) 2011 summer jaunt. The Catapult set up the evening with a somewhat stripped, folk-heavy set, allowing the ineffably quirky Ziman to display her serious (and they are) songstress chops. Sure, the set included the brilliantly bubbly “Perfectly Perfect,” but the vast majority of the set evoked more pensive awe in the audience than anything else – local support Shannon Corey told me that she had to stop [selling merch] and sit in order to consume Elizabeth’s opening notes. Closing the evening was Lenka, the most lovely, saccharine, and whimsical creature in my music collection. She managed a minimalistically epic set that was passionately delightful to the nth degree without being even slightly cheesy. (Check out my recent interviews with Lenka and Elizabeth.)

2. Atari Teenage Riot @ Starlight Ballroom (9/18)
Atari Teenage Riot’s reunion of sorts should have been the musical highlight of the year (It was, for me). Unfortunately, in Philadelphia, no one seemed to show up for the revolution (and it wasn’t televised). Still, Alec Empire, alongside Nic Endo and CX KiDTRONiK, kicked out the digital hardcore jams with the ferocity of history’s least agreeable revolutionaries in a display that couldn’t have been more alarming or inviting had it been choreographed by Marx himself. (Check out my recent interview with Alec Empire.)

1. The Sounds @ Union Transfer (11/1)
While their latest release, and fourth LP, Something to Die For, takes far more from (the far less interesting) House and 90s dance music than Post-Punk and New Wave, The Sounds' live sets still embrace the far more chicly abrasive "sounds" of their first two albums. Their early work was often compared to Blondie, although it’s actually not only more badass, but more likely to induce ass-wiggling. And songs like “Hope You’re Happy Now,” “Living in America,” “Night After Night,” “Painted By Numbers,” and “Seven Days a Week” proved to be still some of the most satisfying of the century… It also didn’t hurt that the band’s performance is still far more reminiscent of something to take place from the stage of the 100 Club than at a rave. (Check out my recent interview with Felix Rodriguez.)

*Follow me on Twitter @IzzyCihak.

Last Minute Gift Ideas

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 07:24:00 +0000

So everyone who knows me knows that I’m not really a big fan of the holidays. Most of you have also realized that I don’t do nearly as much rocking as I used to – I’m far more prone to indie popping these days. However, I do enjoy, every so often, indulging in my roots as a headbanger (beyond the skintight denim, glittered scarves, and sterling silver skull bracelets that I am yet to give up). These days, more often than not, it is Eagle Rock Entertainment who inspires in me such nostalgia with their CDs, documentaries, and live DVDs covering the likes of The Rolling Stones, Velvet Revolver, Jane’s Addiction, Black Sabbath, and Black Label Society. Well, they have done it again, and just in time for the holiday season. So if you're looking for a last minute for that uncle who-still-thinks-he’s-cool you may want to pick up and gift wrap one of the following recent releases from Eagle Rock Entertainment.

Slash

Made in Stoke 24/7/11

($17.98 for 2CD, $24.98 for 2CD+DVD)

…The good old double live album… the staple of any monster of rock… and, I will admit, something that I still occasionally indulge in (I mean, who doesn’t still listen to KISS Alive! whenever they get the chance?). And this is the double live album of the year (Yes, better than The Cure’s Bestival Live 2011). It’s no Alive! (or even AliveII, for that matter), but it is a good reminder that anorexic guys in leather pants, turning it up to 11 can still be cool – even if it’s been more than a decade since anyone new came along to reiterate the point.

Made in Stoke has former Guns N’ Roses/Velvet Revolver axe-slinger, Slash, returning to the town in which he was born and raised (Stoke-on-Trent) to perform for the first time, earlier this year. The band he brought with him? Alter Bridge’s Myles Kennedy on vocals and some regular revolvers of the Sleaze Rock/Hard Rock circuit for the rhythm section (Bobby Schneck, Todd Kerns, and Brent Fitz) – they do have a bit of a sterilized, radio rock feel, but not to a degree worthy of mocking. And the setlist? A shockingly eclectic mix of Slash’s recent solo material, G’N’R classics, and even a handful of Slash’s Snakepit tracks. The new material, off of 2010’s Slash (which, let’s face it, we really couldn’t care less about) isn’t shoved down your throat. And you’re not steamrolled with an overwhelming barrage of second-rate Guns N’ Roses covers either (Apparently someone else has already got that covered.)

The G’N’R numbers are a little cliché and guessable (“Civil War,” “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” “Paradise City,” etc.), but they’re spaced out enough (encore aside) and carried out competently enough to not seem painfully novel. Myles Kennedy’s voice is quite a bit closer to Axl’s than Scott Weiland’s (who has most recently been singing G’N’R tunes alongside Slash), however, at times he sounds a bit too polished, like he’s churning out a G’N’R number for Steven Tyler and J. Lo. What he lacks is grit (something neither Rose nor Weiland are lacking), making songs like “Nightrain,” “Patience,” and “Mr. Brownstone,” (which Weiland actually did great renditions of) sound fairly trite and unlistenable. Surprisingly, Kennedy’s take on Weiland’s vocals for “Slither” is actually his most satisfying imitation on the whole album.

However, the album’s greatest moments don’t come from when the guitar legend is trying to sell you on his latest output or he’s giving you your money’s-worth of hit singles from a previous band. They come from songs that I, honestly, thought would be forever buried deep in Rock’N’Roll’s basement, never to be heard again. The album’s greatest moments come from the four songs coined by Slash’s Snakepit, a brilliant project that popular history has, tragically, nearly erased. Snakepit was Slash’s first “solo” effort (which existed in two, completely separate, formations from 1993-1995 and 1998-2002), whose sound is more or less The Black Crowes, had they been reared on Hollywood and Vine (Yeah… Buckcherry didn’t invent this.) Two of these four “moments” come within the first four tracks of the set. The evening began with “Been There Lately,” which channels a soulful glam aesthetic into a bar fight and, shortly after, “Mean Bone” provides a nearly pornographic groove that wouldn’t be matched for the rest of the evening. And a little later on, “Beggars & Hangers On” stomped the asses of “Patience” and “Sweet Child O’ Mine” for the heaviest and most touching moment of the entire release.

God Bless Ozzy Osbourne

($14.98 for DVD, $19.98 for Blu-ray)

Yes, there’s another doc. about The Prince of Darkness (who really does rock, in every sense of the word). You’ve seen the Behind the Music, you’ve seen the A&E Biography and, if you’re truly cool (well, were “cool” for a metalhead in 1991), you have an old, VHS copy of Don’t Blame Me. And you’re probably thinking that there is little of value left for the video cameras to mine of Ozzy… You’re mostly correct, but after the initial, generic, un-evenly paced “look-at-what-a-crazy-life-of-ups-and-downs-this-guy-had,” God Bless Ozzy Osbourne does manage to reveal (beyond some never-before-seen-and-pretty-interesting performance footage) another side to the story of Oz… Well, not so much another side, but a side which he and his circle were yet to own up to.

Beyond the talking head interviews with Henry Rollins and Robert Trujillo and archival footage of Ozzy decapitating a dove with his pearly whites (which, somehow, through three decades of overexposure, has become dull), the crux of God Bless Ozzy Osbourne lies in the Ozzman and his family admitting, and coming to terms with the fact, that throughout his latter years in the spotlight, he was functioning on about a half a cylinder due to substance abuse that he had promised was long in his past. Yes, this is something that we all realized, but the cold, bitch-smacked sincerity of Jack, Sharon, Kelly, and Aimee actually makes the realization far from cheesy… and, in addition (and, perhaps, most importantly), makes us feel like shit for laughing at their mis/fortunes for so long (even if only for the length of the film).

God Bless Ozzy Osbourne is not quite a rock doc. It’s a bleakly sexy tale of a dysfunctional family that includes Black Sabbath performance footage. It’s not exactly Capturing the Friedmans, but it does make Jack, Sharon, and Kelly Osbourne slightly less loathsome… which might just make it award-worthy.

… I’m Still Breathing

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 02:18:00 +0000

So I realize it’s been a while since High Voltage has heard from me. I’ve been doing most of my ranting and raving on Philthy (http://blog.philthy.us/blog/) however, now that High Voltage is re-launching I am diving back into the loop. Yes, you’ll notice the site is looking prettier than ever, my column has a fresh title, and I have an updated photo (although only slightly… it was taken roughly 18 hours after my previous photo… six years ago).

(This is the standard “We’ve come a long way” portion of the “Welcome Back” column.) The last time High Voltage re-vamped I was a grad. student at Temple University. All my best friends had moved to Brooklyn or New Jersey, so I was spending my days with… well, not the coolest people in the world (casually homophobic and racist pseudo punks, to be specific). Currently I am teaching at Temple University (God, isn’t that scary?) in the departments of English and Intellectual Heritage and, instead of hanging out with douche bags… well, I really don’t leave the apt. too much. I’m actually quite proud of my Mozzian reclusiveness… plus, it gives me more time to drink PBR and watch the Criterion Collection… which are far more satisfying than pretty much every person I’ve ever met.

Okay, so my solitude isn’t exactly Proustian. I’m still a regular at all of Philadelphia’s venues that matter and I’m a long way from losing touch with what’s going on in music. In fact, if you pick up a copy of the new print issue of High Voltage, you’ll see my list for the year’s ten best albums… However, if you don’t here’s a quick run-down of my thoughts on 2011’s music: Earlier this week I saw The Sounds put on the show of the year (despite their new album being quite lame), Deer Tick’s new one is still blowing my mind (despite the fact that I’d never liked them before), Atari Teenage Riot’s reunion album and tour rocked my socks as hard as they’ve been rocked all year (despite the fact that Alec is the band’s only original member), and I still have an ineffable and indescribable “thing” for petite and quirky (and usually Jewish and Brooklyn-residing) singer/songstresses (despite the fact that I haven’t found “the one for me” quite yet).

And the column’s new name? To the first person to properly assess the allusion, I will buy a drink… Wait, nevermind. That never works and no one ever even bothers guessing. A few months ago I was discussing with my dear friend, Liz, possibilities for a new column name and asked what she thought of “36 Degrees.” She asked of its significance, to which I replied, “It’s a Placebo song about an unloving and unlovable androgynous alien who is beginning to decay.” Her reply? “OMG. That’s perfect for you!”

Buke & Gass - Live @ Johnny Brenda's

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Thu, 26 May 2011 00:33:00 +0000

This past Friday tUnE-yArDs was in Philadelphia for a long-sold out performance at Johnny Brenda’s. However, it was openers, Buke & Gass, who provided the evening’s most impressive performance. The Brooklyn duo kicked off the evening of musical subversions armed with their self-crafted buke (a six string, what-was-once-a-baritone ukulele) and gass (a guitar-bass hybrid) and a bevy of leg-strapped percussion. About half an hour of their tunes (which sound remarkably like straight-ahead 90s alt rock) and they had the whole of the crowd participating in their charming musical anti-spectacle. – Izzy Cihak

“Whoa, Fuck”: Swans

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 04:39:00 +0000

Ever since I was a teen (actually, a little bit less), attending concerts has been my only real “hobby.” During my highschool years my mom would drop me off at the doorstep of the 9:30 Club or the Black Cat several nights a week, where I would wait on the sidewalk for hours so that I could be front row for whichever hero I had access to that night. By the time I was 18 I had seen Sonic Youth 6 times, kissed Kim Deal, and been onstage with Iggy Pop… twice. I had almost literally seen it all. I’m now a music journalist who continues going to upwards of 75 shows per years, except now it’s all free of charge. At this point it has all gotten a little blurry, a little less exciting: seeing indie rock, alt country, and synth pop bands every night that are legitimately good, but that honestly are somewhat interchangeable and that are definitely not going to change the course of music history. Yes, there are exceptions that make me as giddy as I was when I was 14, yet it’s pretty rare that I have a “Whoa, Fuck” moment. This was my “Whoa, Fuck,” moment of 2010.

On September 28 the 140-year-old Trocadero Theatre housed sounds that likely won’t be accessible to the masses for another 140 years. Legendary NYC avant art rockers Swans played their first show in 13 years. The venue was filled with freaks of all ages and walks of life: punks, goths, metalheads, queers, the people who are yet to embrace a culturally “valuable” identity, the people whose lives resemble a series of scars but are yet to be broken. Swans’ discography is as fluid and varied as their fans, but the one thing that remained constant is that it was always something that the mainstream wouldn’t fucking get. Those several hundred in attendance may have embraced different subculture identities and may have had their closets and record collections stocked differently, but the one thing they had in common was that they remained aliens, much like the band onstage. If this all sounds a bit lofty and pretentious, it’s because it is.

Swans, alongside Sonic Youth (their more fortunate musical siblings), rose from the ashes of NYC’s No Wave movement. Building on the noisiness of art rock, they added the Post Punk of Joy Division and what can only be described as slow-motion Heavy Metal and melded it with an audible (in addition to lyrical) manifestation of Genet and the Marquis de Sade for their aesthetic, still largely unlistenable and indefinable to the majority of Earth. They later gained a reputation for shows with a (sometimes literally) vomit-inducing volume. Later, in order to shed the band of any particular reputation, band leader and sole constant member Michael Gira, toyed with brilliantly bastardized takes on Folk, Blues, Ambient, and Industrial. Earlier this year Swans released My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky, which your humble narrator has described as “the scariest fucking folk music you will ever hear” and an attempt at “skullfucking American country and blues.”

The audience at the Trocadero Theatre that night lacked a consensus not only on what Swans’ music was, but how it was to be reacted to. Some banged their heads, some overdramatically swayed to the hypnotic feedback, and some motionlessly stared upon them as a piece of performance art which they wished not to disturb.

The notion of considering Swans’ set as a “performance,” would probably be insulting to the band. Gira is one of music’s greatest anti-performers: it was a song-and-a-half into the set before he turned to face the audience. Toward the end of the night, when he could no longer avoid acknowledging the praise that was almost half as deafening as his music, he spit, in his William-Burroughs diction “Don’t try to love me or else you’ll have to suck my cock,” before offering a gruffly quirky apology (this anti-hero is just as well conceptualized as Genet and possibly more so than Charles Manson).

What the band played seemed to matter less to the audience than simply that they were playing. Tracks from their latest, like “My Birth” and “Eden Prison” were accompanied, by nonsensical selections from their catalogue (it’s not like they had “hits” after all). There seemed to be little reasoning or motivation behind these particular choices, but that was the beauty of it. While they’re just about the least likely band in the world to pander to their audience, even if they wanted to, I’m not sure it would be possible. The electro-tribal “I Crawled” sounds more authentically “Gothic” than anything to be produced since and “Sex, God, Sex” still sounds like a hymn from the edge of the Apocalypse. However, the night’s scariest, and therefore best, moment was likely 1987’s “Beautiful Child.” The song seems to drone on forever, yet it gives you the distinct feeling that once it’s over, it’s all over.

Swans are not a band to be “enjoyed” in the traditional sense. Like the Marquis de Sade, they are here to break down all that we know of their medium and prophesize our approaching demise. Hearing Gira and his horrifically beautiful Swans in concert may be the closest one can reach to hearing the world’s end. – Izzy Cihak

For the Dads and Uncles (A High Voltage Christmas)

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 06:36:00 +0000

So I realize that an average AC/DC fan is about as likely to have heard of Girl in a Coma, Smoke Fairies, or Twin Tigers as they are to have seen the latest episode of The Whitest Kids You Know. Their concert-going is likely relegated to summer sheds, they probably couldn’t name a song by Belle & Sebastian, and they use the phrase “classic rock” in a positive and non-ironic manner. They are the dads and uncles of the world. But who says we don’t love our dads and uncles? And it is this time of year when we all find ourselves scrambling to commodify that love. So if you are yet to pick up a gift for your dad, uncle, or just-plain-fan-of-“classic rock,” you may want to consider one of the following recently-released DVD titles, brought to you by Eagle Vision. This entry is my nod to all of dads and uncles of the world.

Rush: 2112 & Moving Pictures Classic Albums
While Rush’s brand name finds itself alongside Dungeons and Dragons as often as it does Black Sabbath, to many they are pretty much the coolest thing ever… after D&D, that is. And, I must admit, they have mustered up a couple dozen rock radio singles that do make for good late-night highway driving (and which I much prefer to the likes of Shineback and Flystorm). The latest edition in the Classic Albums series examines Rush’s two most seminal works, 2112 and Moving Pictures.

This documentary features extensive interviews with the rock trio (a quality trademark of the Classic Albums series, compared to other mid-level rock docs who exclusively focus on the ex-girlfriends of the band and the offspring of the sound engineer), along with people like David Fricke, Taylor Hawkins, and Ed Robertson. The crux of the interviews focus on the band discussing the lyrical inspiration behind their work, which range from Ayn Rand’s Anthem (which inspired the 20+minute “2112”) to pot to sportscars. I must admit, the earnestness and passion with which they discuss a literary notion of a song being born when a man finds a lone guitar (which had been long-banned) in a cave or the freedom of being able to drive down the highway in a world where cars are illegal is entertaining to put it mildly.

Twisted Sister: Live at Wacken
Although this is a re-issue (now including a live CD) and true fans of Twisted Sister likely already have it, for those not-so-hardcore, this DVD and CD documenting the band’s reunion just might flip you. Sure, their reunion might not be as critically exciting as that of the MC5 or as popularly exciting as that of Van Halen, but it seems to be only because the band’s aesthetic is far too epic to appeal to the real aliens, yet far too subversive to pack arenas. Although the band has been a bit bastardized by a few pop singles and reality television shows, they’re far more intriguing than most people remember.

The DVD documents the process of Twisted Sister’s reunion, culminating with their headlining slot at Wacken (whose name they mispronounce several times) 2003. Spliced into a recording of their full set is interviews and supplemental footage of how they came to get back together and put on this amazingly grandiose and still-moderately-disturbing (and not for the wrong reasons) performance in front of tens of thousands of people. Yes, it’s quite a bit pompous, but Dee Snider is the furthest thing from the cliché aged frontman and still navigates the stage looking like a strung out drag queen. And “We’re Not Gonna Take It” and “I Wanna Rock” aside, their music is a lot more transgressive than you ever realized (a bit like if the New York Dolls were a bunch of Guidos). This DVD proves that the reason Twisted Sister aren't regularly joining Poison and Cinderella for summer package tours isn't because they're not competent enough, but because they're simply not that lame.

-- Izzy Cihak

(photo by Olivia Vaughn)

Girl in a Coma - Adventures in Coverland

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 05:44:00 +0000

Girl in a Coma
Adventures in Coverland
Blackheart Records Group

The Velvet Underground and Selena rarely find themselves in each other’s company under amicable circumstances. However, the two seem more than at-home on Girl in a Coma’s latest, Adventures in Coverland. This collection of covers has the band straying from their usual brand of power pop (except for their take on “Come On, Let’s Go,” which turns Ritchie Valens into a star of the Vans Warped Tour) to explore the spectrum of their musical influences, from the Beatles at their most conceptual (“While My Guitar Gently Weeps”) to David Bowie at his most Hollywood (“As the World Falls Down”). While each song has its own sound, their own Tex-Mex aesthetic maintains a surprising cohesion throughout almost thirty minutes of songs written by people they’ve likely never even met: “Walkin’ After Midnight” is imbued with an even more abrasive brand of eroticism and Joy Division’s “Transmission” is transformed into a sleek and sultry R&B jam. This Texas trio once-again proves that they are the only band worthy of their Smiths-inspired moniker. – Izzy Cihak

Smoke Fairies - Live @ Johnny Brenda's

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Fri, 21 May 2010 05:16:00 +0000

Smoke Fairies
@ Johnny Brenda’s
5/15/2010

“Who here wishes they were as cool as the Smoke Fairies?... I do” Laura Marling says, raising her hand in the air. The 20-year-old prodigal folk chanteuse was referring to the act who had taken Johnny Brenda’s stage before her. I’m pretty sure most people wish they were as cool as Jessica Davies and Katherine Blamire. Although the duo hails from London, their sound is much more indebted to whiskey-soaked Americana (see: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s Howl). They are part country and part blues and as inspired by Goths as they are by gospels. Their sound evokes images of Delta porches and Civil War debris… Yes, they have caught the attention of Jack White (who released one of their singles on his Third Man Records).

The duo’s somber and smoky sound left the Philadelphia crowd in an awestruck haze. While the strums of their guitars may be delicate, their impact is jarring. They maintained a hypnotic hold on the largely unfamiliar audience for their 30-minute set, which was comprised of the better part of Ghosts, a collection of singles and an EP, recently released on limited edition 10” vinyl by 453 Music. The nine songs found on the release are soulfully morbid and simplistically daunting. It’s certainly not the most joyful release, but it seems true beauty is most often found in those darkest of places. Of course, there are brief sunny moments, although that sun generally tends to be shining into an empty vessel through a cracked and broken window. – Izzy Cihak

Derek and the Darling - Rock Face

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 05:09:00 +0000

Derek and the Darling
Rock Face
7 Trick Pony

Derek and the Darling manage to transcend not only genres, but mediums. The duo, comprised of Derek Nicoletto and Sammi Garett, met while performing with indie improv. troupe Upright Citizens Brigade. Likely, the reason it’s often difficult to decipher the irony/sincerity ratio of the songs found on their debut EP, Rock Face. Opening track “Hustler with a Rescue Plan” sounds along the lines of the synth pop number played during the climax of an 80s action movie (“oh-ooh-oh’s” and all) and “Lucky Lola” finds itself a little too close to the Justin Timberlake family. Whether the cheese was intentional, or a can of whiz exploded amidst the heat of their chemistry, its presence is undeniable. The three additional tracks, however, contain little to laugh about (hopefully that's a good thing): “You” establishes Garett as a vocal vixen in the vain of Shirley Manson or Liz Phair, “Suddenly” is a brilliant gem of indie pop, and “Alabaster Sky” is a ballad that is equal parts Depeche Mode and Broadway musical. Izzy Cihak

Emily Jane White - Victorian America

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 21:23:00 +0000

Emily Jane White
Victorian America
Milan

With Victorian America Emily Jane White has produced the most conventionally beautiful album of 2010… and also likely the darkest. Little has changed since her 2007 debut, Dark Undercoat: her voice whispers, strings tremble, and listeners are left in a haze of delicately piercing melancholy. Her sound is indebted to the tortured heroines of music history. The twang of opening track, “Never Dead,” reminds of Hope Sandoval. The quirkily and cleverly daunting “Sparks” is reminiscent of Melora Creager, yet with a sincerity generally lacking in the dark comedy of Rasputina. “Red Dress” even evokes the depraved spirit of Nico. White’s songs linger, with the average track clocking in around five minutes. She is in no hurry to escape her horrors; she recognizes the hopelessness and she braves an Opheliatic femininity in a way that only an artist who values beauty over the tragedy of circumstance would be capable. Izzy Cihak

Clogs - The Creatures in the Garden of Lady Walton

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 07:02:00 +0000

The Clogs
The Creatures in the Garden of Lady Walton
Brassland

The biggest accomplishment of The Creatures in the Garden of Lady Walton is the album’s astounding cohesion, despite being composed, recorded, and mixed over the course of five years and two continents. The collection, composed by Padma Newsome, manages to create ten songs that are both clearly individual works and pieces of the same story. That story is whimsically enchanting to an almost impossibly realized degree. It plays like a soundtrack of sorts, but what it is a soundtrack to is what is of importance. At its best, the soundtrack to Grimm’s Fairy Tales… at its worst, to Disney’s. – Izzy Cihak

Twin Tigers - Gray Waves

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 23:08:00 +0000

Twin Tigers

Gray Waves

Old Flame

Twin Tigers’ sound can only be described as Psychedelic Glam. On their debut LP, Gray Waves, the band’s debts shift seamlessly from Sonic Youth to Placebo. Their music is abrasively epic, while avoiding any rock clichés. They are sonically ambitious, but never the slightest bit pretentious. Unlike their modern psyche peers, Twin Tigers rarely leave listeners in a haze of feedback, but instead assault them with subversive pop. There is something distinctively British about the band’s sleekness, but the group actually hail from Athens, Georgia, a place more known for its organic sound than this sort of audio androgyny. If this band has a fault, it’s that they’re too chic for the indie world and too transgressive for the mainstream. – Izzy Cihak

These New Puritans - Hidden

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 06:17:00 +0000

These New Puritans
Hidden
Domino Records

While These New Puritans claim to be anti-avant garde, it all sounds like a bit of a surrealist joke when considering the elements found on their sophomore effort: beats inspired by Britney Spears, Japanese percussion, brass and woodwind ensembles, a children’s choir, and the smashing of a melon covered in cream crackers in order to simulate the sound of someone’s head being smashed in. Hidden is a jarring commentary on the contrast of that which is natural and that which is synthetic that is far more in-line with Lynch’s Eraserhead than any musical scene. At times the band echoes of Killing Joke’s brand of Post Punk, but where Killing Joke relied on a sort of chaos, These New Puritans are driven by a precision in musical poaching and reconstructing (however abstract). The album in characterized by an abrasive darkness. That darkness manifests itself into a sort of Industrial Dancehall (“We Want War”); knife-wielding(literally), postmodern attack music (“Attack Music”); and an audibly frantic grasp for survival (“Fire-Power”). A beautiful horror that could rival Nico’s The End – Izzy Cihak

Blank Generation Turns 30

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 05:52:00 +0000

30 years ago punk met camp (although probably not intentionally) in Ulli Lommel’s Blank Generation, the first melodrama to be able to boast Richard Hell as its leading man. Lommel had made a name for himself as part of Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s troupe of “collaborators” and Hell had made a name for himself in a handful of NYC’s most significant bands: Television, The Heartbreakers, and The Voidoids, who the film features. Unfortunately, the efficacy of these resumes never makes it onscreen.

Blank Generation attempts to tell the story of a man who has to choose between his “love” and pop stardom. However, the movie features a plot that barely exists outside of assumptions we can make based on Rock’N’Roll clichés that would later come to be known as Behind the Music. It plays a bit like a pastiche of movie-of-the-week biopics on the Sex Pistols and the Beatles. In the scheme of things, Lommel and Hell’s reputations got off easy; co-star Carole Bouquet was following up her debut as one half of the female lead in Bunuel’s That Obscure Object of Desire.

The film does, however, have one shockingly poignant moment. As Hell’s “character” lies sullenly in bed, he proclaims “They were drawn there like a crowd around a car wreck and I’d never be able to make it any different, but it just suddenly got intolerable. I mean the thing is, who’d even want to feel like me? I don’t.” When faced with such sincerity in the midst of a feature-length soap opera, there is little else one can do but laugh uncomfortably.

In honor of the film’s 30th anniversary (or maybe not), MVD Visual has re-released the cult classic, including an interview with Hell (which Hell claims is “better than the movie itself”) in which he confesses everything we were thinking the first time we saw the film: “There’s not a single truthful, authentic moment in that whole movie,” “That is once scene that is bad almost in the sense that it’s funny,” and “Part of the shame is that I’m among the screenwriters.” – Izzy Cihak

Telepathe - Live @ Kung Fu Necktie

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 08:53:00 +0000

Telepathe
@ Kung Fu Necktie
February 4, 2010

Telepathe’s sound can best be described as the Yeah Yeah Yeahs as a Suicide tribute band. They are a pop group, but possibly the most avant-garde pop group in the world. They are a noise group, but possibly the most accessible noise group in the world. Their debut LP, Dance Mother (released last April), boasts a barrage of noisy synthetics underscoring vocals that are shockingly catchy and endearingly juvenile. After having to cancel a show at Johnny Brenda’s last year to bail a friend out of jail, the Brooklyn duo (comprised of Busy Gangnes and Melissa Livaudis) finally made it back to Philly for the first time since the album dropped.

On February 4th they found themselves only a block away from Johnny Brenda’s at the slightly smaller and slightly hipper Kung Fu Necktie. Although far from packed, the venue was reasonably filled with a crowd mimicking the careless androgyny and practiced dejection of the band. As the set opened with anti-anthem “Chrome’s On It” the audience slowly clamored toward the stage, attempting to maintain an air of indifference as they inch closer to their heroines.

The set was comprised of the better part of their LP, highlighted by “Lights Go Down,” which pits primal drumming against frequencies from outer space; “Michael,” which hypnotically loops and twirls like a rollercoaster ride through Wonderland; and the enjoyably haunting “So Fine.” The band did manage to get people moving in a venue with a usually too-cool-for-school crowd. And their brand of refusal when it comes to performance is quite intriguing (albeit not exactly original). Their sound, however, was not the same brilliant crass splendor found on Dance Mother. Their cleverly nuanced vocals and knack for sharp minimalism, which make them the beautiful entity that they are, was somehow lost amidst a wall of sound … not that anyone seemed to notice. – Izzy Cihak

David Bowie - A Reality Tour

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 07:58:00 +0000

David Bowie
A Reality Tour
ISO Records

The mention of double live albums have come to strike fear in the hearts of fans and critics alike when in regards to a classic artist who’s entering their sixth decade on the scene (or even their third). And when the word “retrospective” is thrown around, tensions only grow higher. Yet somehow the ineffably suave and charismatic David Bowie has managed to dodge the bullet on his A Reality Tour. The album is the long-awaited audio companion to a DVD of the same name, released in 2004, documenting two nights at the Point Depot in Dublin, Ireland on his Reality Tour.

Of course, when dealing with “classics,” a few decades after their release, there are always a few casualties. The youthful flamboyance of “Rebel Rebel” sounds a little silly coming from someone in their 50s, “Fame” has been a bit hallowed out by its use in the films of Julia Roberts and Ice Cube, and “Under Pressure” sounds… well, “Under Pressure” was always pretty lame. The ballads, however, prove that, if treated with proper tenderness, glitter has quite a shelf life: The clever coyness of “Life on Mars?” continue to shine as Mr. Bowie’s masterpiece (and a still-shockingly-poignant commentary); “All The Young Dudes” (the audience favorite of the night) still rings more sincere than any anthem of femme boi-dom that even Brian Molko has managed to muster, and “Ziggy Stardust” remains the definitive anthem of rock stardom (oh, if only they would listen).

The most intriguing performances in this collection, though, are of those songs birthed in the past decade and those likely missed (when they first appeared on 2002’s Heathen 2003’s Reality) by many picking up this live release. The upbeatedly-self-deprecating “Reality” displays an aged elegance added to Mr. Bowie’s crass pop perfection, the sentimentally tragic splendor of “Slip Away” is just as jarring to those hearing it the first time or the fiftieth, and “The Loneliest Guy” is one of the most beautifully traumatizing dramatic exercises of the decade. – Izzy Cihak

Tegan and Sara - Sainthood

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 06:09:00 +0000

Tegan and Sara
Sainthood
Sire Records

Tegan and Sara have, at least to some extent, shaken the crippling depression evident on 2007’s (at times beautiful) The Con. Although the minds of the twin dykons remain melancholy, Sainthood displays the peppily-trudging-through-the-most-hopeless-parts-of-life sentiment that made their earlier work so stunning (and almost Moz-ian). Although far from touching the brilliance of 2002’s If It Was You and 2004’s So Jealous, their latest contains that lovely contradiction of upbeat popisms underscoring a modern brand of dejection.

Sainthood also has the sisters reaching a new level of maturity in songwriting. Their most carefully-crafted album yet, it includes no punk-inspired outbursts of juvenility (for better or worse). The girls also find themselves confidently adding layers of sounds (most notably an abundance of keyboards) to their, at one time, minimalist tone. Listening to the synthetic echoes of “Don’t Rush” and “Night Watch” it’s hard to believe that they ever found themselves in world of “singer/songwriters.”

The album best proves its worth as it culminates with tracks like “The Ocean,” “Sentimental Tune,” and “Someday,” which embody all the passion the Quin girls have ever managed to muster up, channeled through their newfound level of musicality. It it, however, track 7, “Northshore,” that proves to be Sainthood’s most impressive track. More sonically epic and abrasive than anything they’ve ever recorded, the track will surely jar every body in the mega halls the duo is now selling out. – Izzy Cihak

Grooms - Rejoicer

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 06:05:00 +0000

Grooms
Rejoicer
Death By Audio

Grooms’ debut LP sounds along the lines of Thurston Moore walking you “through the nicest parts of Hell.” The Brooklyn trio manages songs with titles like “Acid Kings of Hell (Guitar Feelings)” and “The Nights Were Walls (We Climbed Them All)” that are actually sonically impressive. Their brand of noise is dementedly progressive in a way that embodies both underground credibility and an endearingly coy dark sense of humor…much like a Richard Kern film. – Izzy Cihak

The Coathangers – Live @ The Barbary

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 05:39:00 +0000

The Coathangers
@ The Barbary
October 6, 2009

There are four girls in tattered clothing, adorned with blue warpaint, shrieking at nothing in particular… and the show hasn’t even begun. They could either be transplanted cavegrrrls or 2009’s best take on “punk.” Returning the City of Sisterly Affection for the first time in nearly two years, Atlanta PostR. Grrrls, The Coathangers, brought the most abrasive display of Rock’N’Roll the city has seen all year. Highlighting the set were brilliantly sloppy performances of songs from their latest LP, Scramble. The morbidly jarring “Toomerhead” had the grrrls twitching across the stage like psychiatric patients with the DTs, the inaudibly anthemic “Gettin’ Mad and Pumpin’ Iron” turned out to be just as scary as it was rousing to those in the first three rows, and “Arthritis Suxx” proved to be just as crassly infectious as it’s title is poignant. – Izzy Cihak

Girl in a Coma – Live @ M Room

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 05:51:00 +0000

Girl in a Coma
@ M Room
October 1, 2009

Since the breakup of The Runaways 30 years ago, Joan Jett has seemed to make the best use of her time discovering and signing the world’s greatest Power Pop bands for Blackheart Records. This Fall has some of her prodigies (and the only band in the world worthy of their Smiths-inspired moniker), Texas trio Girl in a Coma, hitting up the East Coast for the second time this year. Unfortunately, from an attendance perspective, the band’s show at Philthy’s M Room was far less successful than their last appearance in the City of Sisterly Affection over the summer at The Khyber, but the girls still managed to prove that they are currently making just about the most violently catchy music on the planet.

The performance presented the band’s latest release, Trio B.C., which has the group dusting their brand of Power Pop with a bit of a Southern twang, most impressively with the epically anthemic “Static Mind” and “Vino.” Also included were a few of the band’s hook-laden gems of morbidity, like “Say,” “Their Cell,” and “The Photographer,” from their debut, Both Before I’m Gone, a pop ode to hopelessness, sentimentally in-line with their namesake. The highlight of the night, however, was a cover of The Velvets’ “Femme Fatale” as brilliantly and passionately sloppy as Mr. Reed ever could’ve hoped for. – Izzy Cihak

The Sounds – Live @ Theatre of the Living Arts

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 05:15:00 +0000

The Sounds
@ Theatre of the Living Arts
September 19, 2009

Dripping in bling, Maja Ivarsson stalks across the stage of the TLA like a cross between a majorette and Flavor Flav. Spouting sentiments like “I’ve been doing someone that you know” and “Let’s do it real good” from atop mile-high legs in designer kicks, she is a brilliant conundrum: both elegantly crass and decadently glamorous. Ivarsson would be the quintessential 21st century Varga Girl. But there’s more to Ivarsson than her pin-up-ability, she also fronts the best New Wave band since New Wave was new.

The last time The Sounds were on a Philthy stage, they were putting on the most fabulous Thanksgiving day celebration the city is ever likely to see. This time… the best reason the city’s had to dance since. Although the group has surely tamed themselves (Ivarsson is no longer flinging herself into the audience in the tradition of Courtney Love), they certainly have nothing to apologize for.

The band no longer resembles a synthesizer-fueled teenage riot or a playfully offensive exercise in sass, but a band sincerely dedicated to the art of crafting pop songs (for better or worse). The audience ranged from post-tweens in scenester-training to sorority pledges and middle-aged people who regularly partake in activities they refer to as “culture.” While none of this makes for performances as sexily edgy as they have been previously known for, it’s still likely the best performance to hit the States’ major stages this year.

It wasn’t the songs from their latest (Crossing the Rubicon) that provided the evening’s most brilliant moments, but those from their more delightfully juvenile releases (2003’s Living in America and 2006’s Dying to Say This to You). Their brassiest work (“Living in America” and “Hit Me!”) hadn’t lost any potency due to the band’s newfound maturity and dancethems like “Queen of Apology,” “Song with a Mission,” and “Painted By Numbers” could’ve roused a pep rally at even the hippest locale. The biggest impact, however, came from the softer side of these sassy Swedes. The evening’s highlight was a strictly piano and vocal rendition of “Night After Night” (which should from here on out, be known as “The ‘Beth’ of New Wave”), followed closely by an ode to the beauty of possibly the world’s most beautiful creation, “Rock ‘N Roll,” of which Ivarsson once proclaimed “This is The Sounds’ only love song.” – Izzy Cihak

Punk in London

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 07:38:00 +0000

Punk in London
Directed by Wolfgang Buld
MVD Visual

If you’ve ever wondered where VH1, Julien Temple, Penelope Spheeris, and anyone else who has attempted to document the punk movement got their stock footage of youngsters pogoing in leather jackets and safety pins, you can look to Wolfgang Buld’s criminally under-recognized Punk in London, recently reissued on DVD.

As is true of most blockbuster documentaries, the most entertaining portions of Buld’s vision are those that the subjects likely wish hadn’t made the final cut, such as the young punks waxing philosophical about politics, at which point you will realize that the people who wrote the political anthems of your generation can barely form a relevant sentence, or a brilliant scene in which Teddy Boys are captured mocking punks like cargo-shorted frat boys mocking people capable of consensual sex.

Punk in London serves as a London counterpart to Amos Poe and Ivan Kral’s The Blank Generation. The documentary; covering bands like The Adverts, Killjoys, and X-Ray Spex; plays like an avant-garde narrative in the vain of Godard’s Sympathy for the Devil. There are no title cards promoting the names of bands or members… because, in the end, it doesn’t matter; they’re all parts of the same scene and aesthetic. In that way, punk is presented as a fluid and socialist movement of the masses… the pink-haired, leather-clad, safety-pin-adorned masses (?). – Izzy Cihak

Kiss Kiss - The Meek Shall Inherit What's Left

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 23:18:00 +0000

Kiss Kiss
The Meek Shall Inherit What’s Left
Eyeball Records

With their sophomore album, Kiss Kiss attempt to meticulously orchestrate the sound of teen angst. The finished product sounds like a symphony of chaos, abrasively morbid and hauntingly catchy. Although the release is unquestionably fetching, at times it does all sound a bit juvenile, like the soundtrack to a nervous breakdown brought on after being dumped by a girl who works at Hot Topic. – Izzy Cihak

The Rural Alberta Advantage - Hometowns

noreply@blogger.com (Izzy Cihak) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 01:52:00 +0000

The Rural Alberta Advantage
Hometowns
Saddle Creek

As their name implies, there had to be some advantage to growing up in rural Alberta. And there is: it apparently inspires A+ indie pop. The Rural Alberta Advantage’s debut album, Hometowns, finally available to the masses on Saddle Creek, has the band sounding like a poetically hung-over Pixies. The album ranges from hipster mountain songs (“Rush Apart”) to spastic, jangly power pop (“The Dethbridge in Lethbridge”) to what can only be described as post folk (“Don’t Haunt This Place”) all within the span of the first four songs. The band’s aesthetic also rings of that point in the early-mid ‘90s when all of the coolest bands in the world (The Breeders, The Jesus and Mary Chain, Sonic Youth, etc.) were just about the biggest bands in the world. It’s unlikely that any other band this year will manage to put out an album that’s both so catchily sing-alongable and so legitimately fucking good. Izzy Cihak