CD review - Dengue Fever, Cannibal Courtship (2011)

It's been a three year wait for a new album by Dengue Fever. The music on 2009's DVD documentary release, Sleepwalking Through the Mekong, was mostly older material, leaving 2008's Venus on Earth as the last full album. The band has been developing their own unique character through a progression of releases, adding more original music and extending the retro Cambodian rock music that inspired them. Cannibal Courtship, due out April 19, features a maturing sound that's still true to their Khmer rock roots.

If you aren't already familiar with Cambodian rock, it's a cultural byproduct of the Viet Nam war. Cambodians assimilated American surf/garage/psychedelic rock and blended it into their own folk music to create an exotic, jangly mix of surf guitar with intriguing scales. Unfortunately, it was largely destroyed by Pol Pot in the mid '70s. Dengue Fever resurrected this music, adding in their own version of surf, jazz, and sense of pop. Cambodian singer Chhom Nimol's singing and personality provided the final necessary element to complete the band's sound.

Cannibal Courtship takes the familiar sonic features and throws in some R&B, funk, and ska. The ska sounds are the most striking. Listening to the sinister second wave ska grooves of Sister on the Radio or 2012 (Bury Our Heads) was a revelation that sent me digging through Dengue Fever's back catalog. I was surprised to hear these elements in earlier songs, too, like Ethanopium. The slinky, reverbed guitar riffs, the expressive bass lines, and winding organ sounds have been there all along. I love that the band turned me on to the links between surf rock and ska.

The album is full of great tracks; it's hard to just pick a few to talk about. Uku stands out, setting up a psychedelic Khmer groove that shifts into a dub style jam. The title track, Cannibal Courtship, shows off Dengue Fever's growth. The interplay between the cool repeated guitar riff and Nimol's voice is perfect. She sounds dreamy and desperate at the same time. The vibe shifts between laid back R&B and harder rock. It's a meditation, a celebration, and an arcane rite all in one.

The absolute best, though, is Durian Dowry, which sets up a snaky, psychedelic groove like a tripped out version of Pipeline by the Chantays. The noir surf rock vibe evolves through a progressive set of changes, giving the song a post-rock twist on Dengue Fever's classic sound. Senon Williams' bass playing is transcendent, weaving through the song and pulling the elements together into a forward drive.

Grab Cannibal Courtship when it comes out. Dengue Fever is a band that deserves more attention. Their exotic masala of styles piques the senses like my homebrewed fenugreek/ginger mead.

Previous reviews:
Venus on Earth
Sleepwalking Through the Mekong

CD review - Scattered Trees, Sympathy (2011)

Grief is a deeply personal process. Often, we find ourselves embarrassed in its presence. When Scattered Trees' front man, Nate Eiesland, lost his father, his response was to write his way through the loss. Sympathy is his emotional tribute. The sound is strikingly expressive; Eiesland's vocals are laid bare with raw vulnerability. For all that, it's surprisingly easy to take in. The songs are confessional and sincere. Scattered Trees have avoided the sins of mawkishness and self-indulgence to create a powerful album.

The individual songs are strong, but the flow between them is even stronger. Four Days Straight starts out softly but quickly shifts into an indie rocker with good dynamics. This drops into the sparse acoustic beginning of Sympathy, whose dreamy edges contrast nicely with the previous track. Five Minutes takes on a falsetton Trip Shakespeare groove and softly descends into the soft interlude of Where You Came From.

Sympathy has a range of musical sounds: bits of Wilco's Americana, Bright Eyes' folky simplicity, and Guster's indie rock spirit. The indie rock drive plays a big part in keeping the mood from becoming too heavy. Take, I Swear To God, which deals with the anger stage of Eiesland's grief. Its confrontational lyrics ("You're the only one that could have saved him, well you could've but you let him go") and driving beat turn his pain into a kind of affirmation.

My favorite track, though, is Love and Leave. The verses have that Jeff Tweedy directness. The bridge opens up into a lusher sound, with a huge cymbal wash. The emotional build out of the bridge into the "I'm crazy, I'm going crazy" section channels Trail of Dead's intensity to create a strong climax for the song.

Lyrically, the album talks of loss, leaving, and desertion. Many of the songs seem focused on romantic relationships at first, ignoring the context of Eiesland's father. That's part of why Sympathy is easy for us to hear and connect with. It lets us all relate to his feelings without embarrassment. In honor of Mr. Eiesland, I'll raise a toast of Pilsner Urquell, mildly bitter with some malt to balance.

Sympathy is scheduled to release April 5 on Rollcall Records/EMI.

CD review - La Sera, La Sera (2011)

In my dream, there was a warm, glowing radio. In addition to the standard volume and frequency knobs, this radio had two other knobs. One was labeled "year", the other "dimension". I tuned the year knob to somewhere in the mid-1960s. Then I twisted the dimension knob to the left a bit. As the music pushed through the static, I woke up...

La Sera's debut album sounds like 1965 or so, except for some of the guitar distortion, which enhances the emotional impact. The thick, echoed female vocals take on the density of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound. The richly evocative music is draped in a low-fi haze. Guitars jangle and chime while the warm, simple bass lines soothe the soul. The lilting vocals are occasionally hard to discern, but La Sera is more about mood. Influenced by the heavy retro vibe, the songs hearken back to a simpler kind of innocence.

The album provokes a host of musical associations from tune to tune; one minute, it's the arrangements and choral harmonies of the Ronettes, then it's a more restrained version of the sound of The Velvet Underground & Nico. In between, you can hear the vocal meshing of the Mamas and the Papas (minus the Papas) or the track production values of the Cowboy Junkies (reverbed, with the vocals a little low in the mix). Throughout the album, the music stays rooted in an early '60s pop, leavened with a dollop of garage rock.

One of my favorite tracks is Lift Off, which sounds like a female Buddy Holly cover. Perfect simplicity with the only flaw being that it's too short. (The longest track doesn't quite hit 3 minutes.) Another great song is Devil Hearts Grow Gold (dig Har Mar Superstar as the devil). Some light slide guitar adds a subtle psychedelic fringe as the ethereal vocals fill the song with sunshine.

La Sera is a side project from Katy Goodman (Vivian Girls). Some of the garage rock feel of that band splashes onto La Sera and the bass work is (of course) similar, but La Sera is much slower and more reflective. La Sera came out last month. Sip some original Coca-Cola (with real sugar, not the corn syrup) and slide into that alternate dimension with La Sera's music.

Pick up La Sera here.

CD review - Dinosaur Bones, My Divider (2011)

Listening to a new band offers a different challenge than catching up with a familiar group. For me, there's a mix of gut vs. brain response. The gut feels the flutter of anticipation, the hope for something surprising and new, and the emotional response to the songs. On the intellectual side, it ranges from the OCD-driven need to pattern match, guessing at influences and identifying the musical styles to recognizing the quality of the writing and playing. Some bands satisfy purely on the gut level, (e.g. "snotty boys with guitars") while others blow me away with technique.

Dinosaur Bones' debut album, My Divider (due out March 8) piques both sides. The album shows off a bi-polar collection of songs, which bounce from introverted brooding to manic, extroverted thrashing. The surprise is that this flows fairly smoothly, without jarring. At the same time, Dinosaur Bones skips through a number of genres as they maintain a unified sound based on interesting chord progressions and open song arrangements. On the first listen, each song was a little surprise. Later visits solidified my appreciation for how they assembled the album.

My Divider starts off with a moody, British post-punk feel. Making Light and Sharks in the Sand each feature an emotional delivery and subtle guitar work that recall the Smiths. Even with languid lyrics about being unmoored or misunderstood, the mood is way too upbeat to compare directly with Morissey, but the inward focus is similar.

On the other side of the spectrum, Hunters takes a beginning section saturated with a low fi swarm of sound and punches it into a tight, alt-rocker. By turns post-punk and garage rock, it was a wake up call that contrasted with the more restrained start. Swirls of noise fill out the sonic space of the song.

From that point, My Divider freely mixes things up. The rockers hit my sweet spot more often, but the album's flow helped by setting them up. Strong tracks include the post-punk edge of Point Of Pride (great energy and dynamics), the lush bombast of Highwire Act, and the updated Clash chank of Royalty (with touches of The Guns of Brixton). Royalty is the first single, download it here.

My heart and my head both like My Divider. It's a strong debut and Dinosaur Bones shows promise for more musical depth as they mature. Even though the band is from Toronto, the strong British feel makes me crave a cask conditioned IPA.