What's cool? The Very Best with Mafilika, "Hear Me"

Roots come together from opposite worlds 

Sometimes, you can travel to the ends of the earth and still find yourself back at home. Esau Mwamwaya was an experienced singer when he left his home in Malawi and moved to London in 1999. A serendipitous meeting led to an unlikely partnership with the production team of Radioclit to form The Very Best. Their electronic production complemented his soulful singing to create an intriguing mixtape that featured some surprising contributions from acts like Santigold and samples from a variety of pop and indie bands.

Fast forward a half decade and The Very Best was centered on Mwamwaya and DJ Johan Hugo. The pair had temporarily relocated back to Lilongwe, Malawi in 2013. They left the capital for village life in M'dala Chikowa to work on their new album in earnest, which edged their sound to away from its electronic foundations to develop a more band-oriented focus. The resulting project, Makes a King, just came out this month. It still ties back to their earlier work, but it's looser and more vibrant.

"Hear Me" is the first single off the new album, and that version features bass work from Chris Baio (Vampire Weekend). The glitchy production adds a brittle quality that emphasizes the fragility of Mwamwaya's voice. It straddles synthpop reminiscent of Tears For Fears along with a deep African heart. While the studio take is pretty nice, this live version, recorded with Malawi Afrojazz band Mafilika, has a more organic feel.



Mafilika mixes in live drums to go with the drum machine beat, which softens the stark edge of the studio recording. Hugo's production touches are still there to maintain the modernity of the song, but the sadness and resignation of the vocals comes through even stronger than before. Listening to the two perspectives side by side, it's easy to hear how the live version taps into the soul of the song as it first entered the world, before the studio production added a veneer of complexity to shade the tune.

Both takes are strong signs that Makes A King is worth digging into to hear how roots from opposite ends of the earth can intertwine.

What's cool? White Reaper, "Make Me Wanna Die"

Breaking up never sounded so easy

White Reaper's secret super power comes from the the synth-pop keyboards that sneak in during the first break of "Make Me Wanna Die". Up until that moment, it's easy to pigeonhole them as another set of low--fi, power-pop garage rockers from somewhere in the U.K. The punk sneer and throbbing downstroke guitar are anchored by a dead simple beat and pulsing bass -- it all sounds fine, but when the Cars-style synth riff drops, the poppy bounce is completely unexpected. Another surprise is that despite singing with a slight British accent, Tony Esposito and the band are from Louisville, Kentucky. I'm guessing they spent a lot of time listening to the Sex Pistols and the Ramones, but they've found their own unique balance.



"Make Me Wanna Die" is a mixed up little gem, but in a fun way. It's a break up song, celebrating that moment right after the split is out in the open, when all you want to do is walk away and put it behind you. The relentless beat captures that discomfort and restless impatience, but the poppy keys say that they knew it was never going to work out anyway, and we should all just get over it.

White Reapers full length debut, White Reaper Does It Again, is due out in mid-July. That will be a treat.

What's cool? Hot and cold electronic pop from Coeds and Tei Shi

Mirror images and musical reflections

Browsing through virtual piles of music this week, I found myself trapped between two extremes. Even though both of these tunes are rooted in electronic pop and feature strong female singers, they reflect radically different sensibilities. One runs hot with retro synthpop passion, packed with noisy energy. The other is a chill blend of polished pop vocals and precise sequencing.



Coeds' new single "Sensitive Boys" kicks off with Ryan Kailath's tight synth riff and a solid drum machine loop and quickly captures the retro new wave synthpop of Men Without Hat's "Safety Dance" along with some Billy Idol edge. Merideth Muñoz doesn't sneer like Idol, but she can summon a post-punk Blondie-style glee on lines like, "New chicks/ The same tricks/ Six six six." The production on her voice is just a little saturated, so she sounds like she's ready to rip right through the speaker. Her knowing tone fits the lyrical theme as she chastises all of the sensitive boys who will never be the kind of player that she is: "Who said anything about love?" Coeds fill the track with percussive bits and pieces, which makes it as danceable as it is catchy.



Tei Shi is every bit as memorable with "Go Slow", but instead of overtly pumping the track full of energy, she lets it simmer with repressed tension. The verses are buttoned down, with a sparse electro-pop groove behind Shi's breathy vocal. The brief bridge opens up into a freer expression when she loosens her control and sings, "Baby, won't you reach out to me." Almost immediately, though, she bottles it back up. The production is exquisitely choreographed, balancing the movement of rhythm and bass into a give-and-take dance of advance and retreat. It's clear that every sound is carefully chosen and placed. That precision is in turn complemented by the dreamy softness of the vocal line.

I love listening to these tracks together, where the heat and life of Coeds can contrast with delicate crafting of Tei Shi's music. Either one sounds great alone, but together they mirror one another. It's a dichotomy where both sides are right. 

Concert review - Future Islands with Operators

12 August 2014 (Aggie Theatre, Ft. Collins CO)

Ft. Collins is quite lucky, it seems. As Future Islands winds their tour across America, they managed to squeeze in a single show in Ft. Collins on the way to Salt Lake City. After looping through California, they'll pass through Denver later in the month at the Gothic, but that show is already sold out. So, we got to see them first and, although the turnout was good, it wasn't over-packed like a sold-out show.

It didn't turn out to be an particularly late night either. Tour mates, Operators, were the only opener and Future Islands followed them with a good show and still wrapped up their encore around 11ish.

Operators

Dan Boeckner, from Wolf Parade and Divine Fits, kicked things off with his latest band, Operators.
The line up features his previous bandmate Sam Browne (Divine Fits) on drums and electronics artiste Devojka tweaking buttons and dials. Their opening song blended a classic synth pop sound with Tom Tom Club dance beats. Crowded against the front of the stage, the trio offered a study in contrasts. Brown was deeply focused as he pounded out the rhythm, barely noticing the audience at all. Boekcner, on the other end of the line, was full of anxious energy as he paced forward and back. In between these two extremes, Devojka directed most of her attention towards her table full of toys, but she still engaged with the crowd.


As the set progressed, Operators settled into an electro-pop flavored post-punk feel, somewhat like Shriekback partnering with a laptop artist. Looping synth arpeggios and beep-boop punctuated dance grooves kept the crowd moving. While the bottom end was covered well enough, I would have appreciated a real bass player to partner with Brown's solid drum work.


While I enjoy listening to the gear-driven beats, to some extent, they leave me cold during a live performance. The obsessive knob-work and frantic activity can add a serving of sweeps and laser tones, but they never quite relate to the steady roll of the backing track. Fortunately, Boeckner's charisma and stage presence were exciting enough to carry the show. The crowd was primed with plenty of his fans, several of whom called for tunes from his older bands. Eventually, Devojka got irked enough to ask the audience member if they could play the song ("If not, shut up"). In any case, the energizing pop repetition of the music was a good warm up for Future Islands.

Future Islands

There is an aesthetic concept called the "uncanny valley", which quantifies how people react to things that are near, but not quite human. For example, robots, dolls, and clowns can each trigger a kind of aversion when they fall into that space between clearly artificial and a natural human appearance or behavior. The more times I see Samuel T. Herring perform, I can't help but revisit that concept as I watch his stylized movements and unnatural dance moves. He doesn't trigger a sharp repulsion, but  he's off by just enough to make his performance riveting in its strangeness.


While he was actually singing, he tended towards overly emotional theatricality, with melodramatic gestures and exaggerated facial expressions. In between his lines, though, he surrendered to his inner muse and chaotically danced with wild lunges and stiff-postured positions. On the one hand, this physicality was cool; there was the sense that Herring was channeling the song with his outsider-artist choreography. But as he waved his arms and crouched like a gorilla, mimed tearing away the mask of his face, or spasmed into a fixed-stare duck walk, it was hard not to be gobstopped. That oddness is certainly part of why the band has hit it so big in the wake of their David Letterman appearance.


Fortunately, Future Islands had more going for them than a sideshow performance. First of all, the band was remarkably tight. They casually delivered perfection in form of danceable tunes where every note was polished and carefully placed. That distilled performance could have turned cold and mechanical, but between the deeply personal tone of the songs and Herring's expressiveness, the music was surprisingly emotional, especially for a synth-driven pop band. In sharp contrast to their frontman, William Cashion, Gerrit Welmers and their touring drummer all played with a restrained economy. Cahsion moved the most as he played his bass, but seldom got further than two steps from where he started. Welmers almost melted into his keyboards, barely acknowledging the audience or the rest of the band, even when Herring introduced the players during "Spirit".


Future Islands slid through their set with little pause, moving from hypnotically danceable interludes to driving bass-driven darkness and then shifting into soulful brooding. Late in the set, Herring surprised me, though, with an unexpected bit of humor. During "A Song For Our Grandfathers", he spent much of the tune gazing up to his right, as though looking up to Heaven. After wrapping it up, he paused and then gestured up at the large posters that decorate the walls of the Aggie. He pointed up at the one he'd been staring at and said, "By the way, my grandfather isn't Tech N9ne." That little bit of self-deprecation made up for a lot of crazy dance moves.

Vocally, Herring veered from a strained soul tone reminiscent of Roland Gift (Fine Young Cannibals) to hoarse, death metal growls. Those changes were all in service to the whatever raw sense he was trying to evoke at any given moment. He apologized a few times about his voice, but seemed to give everything he had to his performance. By the end of the night, his tight black shirt was soaked with sweat and he looked a bit drawn. Future Islands finished out their three song encore with "Little Dreamer" and Herring was finally able to take a well-deserved break.

More photos on my Flickr.

Recording review - Be Forest, Earthbeat (2014)

Dynamic tension between beat and breath

Be Forest pulls against themselves, fighting their own nature. The vocals float above everything, wrapped in gauzy wisps of flickering reverb, but the dreamy atmospherics are anchored by insistent, earthly rhythms. Like an ethereal saint tempted by pleasures of the flesh, the beat challenges all attempts to disengage. The band’s aspirations of reaching a higher plane are dashed time and again, whether it’s the dance-friendly beat of “Colours” or the tribal drumming behind “Airwaves”, but that conflict is what makes Earthbeat worth seeking out. Moody dithering alone can be mildly interesting, but adding tension and resistance lays down the bones of a story. And story is particularly important here because the lyrics offer little connection, even on the non-instrumental tracks where the vocals are hard to distinguish.

The conflict at the core of Earthbeat becomes immediately apparent on the opening track, “Totem”, whose heartbeat beginning asserts the physicality of the project. The guitar comes in, so swaddled in echo and soft-focused flange that the texture resembles a keyboard wash. Multiple layers weave together over a blur of bass, building in tempo and energy. The melody is thoughtful but the simple tom and stick-work are implacable, asserting that some things are unchangeable.

Aside from the dynamic tension between beat and breath, Be Forest is adept at painting different sonic landscapes. Where “Totem” is reflective, “Ghost Dance” harnesses a more nervous energy. The stark rhythm and reverb-soaked guitar riff evoke the wide open Western skies. A Native American flute echoes the earnest line of the guitar and sets up Costanza Delle Rose’s dreamy voice. The piece could work like a soundtrack item from “Twin Peaks”. The echo-laden melody sounds like something Angelo Badalamenti would write and Della Rose neatly fills in the Julee Cruise vocal part. As a guitar spins in place around itself like a dancer, it becomes a focal point, absorbing all of the wishes and regret that a life could contain.

That interpretation is fully based on feel, rather than lyrical details. For the most part, it’s hard to tease out specific phrases. “Captured Heart” offers an exception, with a great opening line, “I would like to fall in love/ And then have a broken heart.” Delle Rose sings her lines like a thoughtful goddess daydreaming of the allure of surrendering to mortality. Her tone is soft and cottony, but it’s undercut by tight drum loop syncopation that indicates the trap of that thinking. After some ambiguity and hints of darkness, the chorus concludes, “We saw far and now we’re dust.” The overall feel of the song is danceable post-punk, but I really liked the opening riff that fittingly recalls the Smithereens’ “Behind the Wall of Sleep.”

The best track on Earthbeat, “Airwaves”, also makes a vintage reference, this time to Joy Division’s “Transmission”. Be Forest borrows their inspiration’s melodic bass, tribal drums, light keys and guitar accents to drive the upbeat post-punk dreaminess. Shards of guitar create a mirror maze that draws the listener into a hypnotic groove. But it’s a Sufi-style head trip; the drums propel the piece and encourage a dervish dance of capitulation. This Italian band may long for an escape to otherworldly, utopian planes, but the visceral attraction of rhythm will always have some hold over them.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - Arcade Fire, Reflektor (2013)

New directions with chill funk desperation and synth-pop beats

There’s a moment of cognitive dissonance when the chill funk rhythm of “Reflektor“ kicks in, like seeing a longtime friend with a radical new haircut or finding the short dress that your mother wore clubbing back in 1982. Arcade Fire luxuriates in an exotic, retro lagoon of danceable synth-pop and it’s hard to recognize them at first. The song draws on David Bowie’s early ‘80s catalog, both from Scary Monster s (and Super Creeps) and Let’s Dance, as well as recruiting him to provide guest vocals. Win Butler captures a stylized undercurrent of repressed desperation while Régine Chassagne plays the ethereal ice queen. The vocal pairing against the synth-driven beat evokes the era of bands like the Human League, but the couple’s interaction restores some familiar ground. The first half this this double album repeatedly toys with our perceptions, from the “Billie Jean” bass line on “We Exist” to the Gary Glitter drums on “Joan of Arc.” Along the way, the band appropriates bits of Talking Heads, Blondie and U2. In lesser hands, this would either descend into awkward parody or earnest pastiche (or maybe the other way around). Instead, Arcade Fire creates an irony-free zone around these songs and fleshes out the borrowed fashion with their own character. The focus on disco and dance-friendly beats has a couple of likely sources. Butler has credited the Haitian rhythms that he was immersed in during his visits there with Chassagne. Additionally, James Murphy (LCD Soundsystem) certainly brought both dance mix and post-punk influences with his production help.

The second half of Reflektor maintains continuity, but calls back to the thoughtful reflection the band is known for. The centerpiece for the whole album, “Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)” and “It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus)”, blends the band’s old and new approaches. While the first tune is oblique in its reference to the mythological couple, the music is exquisite. The moody Two Tone ska groove is backed with busy, syncopated percussion. Tightly reined in and wicked, the arrangement is taut with tension until it releases into an open, psychedelically charged lushness. The second track responds with nervous, bubbling energy as it follows Orpheus and Eurydice out of the underworld. A ratcheting bass and synth washes play against a Krautrock motorik beat, setting up the angelic breakdowns.

Arcade Fire foreshadowed this new direction on their last album, The Suburbs, with techno-beat sounds on "Half Life II (No Celebration)" and the sweet pop of "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)". But they hadn't fully committed yet. Now, they've shrugged off any doubts and they're taking their time to explore their new environs. At 75 minutes, 85 if you count the hidden track, Reflektor sprawls across the two CDs. There aren't any clunkers or obvious filler, but it begs for a leaner edit. On the other hand, maybe it takes that extra time for Arcade Fire to find themselves in the disco lights and driving rhythm.

Recording review - Wymond Miles, Cut Yourself Free (2013)

Dark derivations fail to impress

Everybody knows that first impressions are important. With short attention spans, people are quick to categorize and move on. Sometimes, those kneejerk responses are spot-on and sometimes they miss the mark. Either way, there’s rarely a chance to reset expectations after that initial impact. On Cut Yourself Free, guitarist Wymond Miles goes out of his way to create the image of a dark, Goth-pop wallflower. He wraps himself in a worn shroud of reverb and emulates Robert Smith’s singing style. Maybe he’s intent on distinguishing his solo work from the cheerier garage rock he plays with the Fresh & Onlys, but he does himself a disservice by pigeonholing his sound.

The first three songs on Cut Yourself Free are not so much a love letter to the Cure as a sympathetic LiveJournal lamentation. Leading off with “The Ascension”, Miles teases us with alt rock guitar downstrokes wrapped in what will become the album’s ubiquitous haze of echo. As the cycle of chords becomes a repetitive loop, the extended introduction gets more interesting, incorporating keyboard swells and honed shards of guitar. This retro new wave vamp eventually gives way to the main song, a sparse tribute to the Cure featuring glum, hollow vocals. By the synthpop shimmer of the third track, Miles has established the album as an echo-laden miasma of emo brooding worthy of his Gothic inspirations.

That’s what makes “White Nights” such an unexpected pleasure. On the early tracks, the guitars strained to break free and explore more expansive reaches with enthusiastic jangle and expressiveness. Finally, they get their chance as Miles backslides to a mood more fitting to his work with the Fresh & Onlys. The sound is buoyed by the XTC pop and new wave backing. The vocals even transform from oppressive to thoughtful. The meandering melody in the fade out deserves more space than it gets, but it’s pleasant enough to get a disruption in the gloomy flow. The brief instrumental interlude that follows, “Bronze Patina”, very nearly recants those first tunes completely. Shimmering walls of heat-struck guitar drone hover like a nearby mirage, carefully framing a dulcet acoustic guitar. The bristling howl of chaos is cast against the rooted faith of sweetly simple finger picking, without resolution. Instead, a yin-yang balance prevails.

Cut Yourself Free doesn’t abandon its dark foundations at that point, but the second half breaks up the monochrome. “Anniversary Song” is packed with melodramatic suffering, but other songs have more to offer. “Vacant Eyes” clings to some Gothic shadows, but it gives free rein to a pensive psychedelia reminiscent of the Moody Blues. “Love Will Rise” is a bit stilted, but the tremolo guitar blends with the synth washes to add an intriguing retro feel. Introducing these richer sounds from the start would have improved the album’s appeal. Leading off with such a derivative sonic palette creates a momentum that wears out its welcome all too soon. Despite his talent on the guitar, Miles can’t overcome that first impression.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - Strokes, Comedown Machine (2013)

Sloppy pastiches brings down the band

Nobody wants to be typecast. After a band has a couple of albums under their belt, it’s appropriate for them to develop and try new ideas. If the changes are too big or sudden, they may alienate some of their original fans, but an evolving artistic vision is vital for creating fresh inspiration. Dylan went electric, Wilco abandoned their Americana roots and Radiohead drifted into abstract electronic sounds. Each one challenged their audience to follow as they reframed their music. So, kudos to the Strokes for not trying to recreate Is This It (2001) all over again. But where is their creative compass pointing now? Unfortunately, it’s aimed at “sloppy pastiche”. Rather than charting a new musical direction, Comedown Machine is a mish-mash of derivative, retro references. They borrow bits of Radiohead, a-ha, Flaming Lips and others, but lack the conviction to forge the eclectic mass into a coherent statement. In the turbulent wake of their last release, Angles (2011), the Strokes decided to work together in the studio, but it still feels like they’re fighting one another.

Despite the album’s lack of a musical center, some of the songs manage to stand out a little. The two strongest are baby steps away from their home base. The solid punch of “All The Time” sets a tight beat, drawing on the band’s roots. The interplay between the two guitars pits staccato chop against arpeggiated phrases. Locking into the album’s ‘80s aesthetic, the fluid guitar solo avoids self-indulgence, leading straight back into the chorus. Lead singer Julian Casablancas also stays in his lower register, saving his newly discovered falsetto for the other tracks. The riff-driven “80s Comedown Machine” falls into the same slot and the band happily runs with the headlong pace. But the next most interesting track strays further outside the band’s comfort zone. “Welcome to Japan” channels Beck’s stylized fake-funk. The disco bass line and ska-flavored chop-beat emphasis positions the tune as a contender for the next Grand Theft Auto game or maybe an action movie soundtrack. It’s a fun song with catchy, ironic lyrics:

I didn’t want to notice
I didn’t know the gun was loaded
I didn’t really know this
What kind of asshole drives a Lotus? 

Intriguing as the track is, it’s a sonic outlier on the album, although it’s still closer to the median than the jazzy dream-pop of “Call It Fate, Call It Karma”.

If “Welcome to Japan” owes a debt to Beck, “One Way Trigger” ought to split its royalty checks. The keyboard melody – or is it just a brittle guitar emulation? – inverts the signature line from a-ha’s “Take On Me”. Worse, the first chorus blatantly appropriates Radiohead; the melodic reference to “Karma Police” is pretty obvious, despite being sped up to fit the up-tempo pop. It’s no surprise when Casablancas pulls out his best Thom Yorke falsetto on the tag line, “Settle down, out of town/ Find a dream, shut it down.” After that, every high vocal seems to evoke Yorke, even if the music strays from Radiohead territory. The worst thing about “One Way Trigger” is that it kicks off a game of I-Spy, where every tune has a set of references hidden in plain sight. “50 50” evokes a taste of Psychedelic Furs crossed with New Order. “Partners in Crime” borrows synthesizer washes and slapback vocal echo from the Flaming Lips’ more recent pop explorations, before the chorus reworks Phoenix. But in the absence of a strong personality, the game grows old quickly.

If there’s a handle here to be found, it’s a watered-down synth-pop. But the genre isn’t nearly as important as the attitude. It’s okay that the Strokes have deserted the simple rock sound of Is This It; the problem is that they’ve lost their immediacy and raw energy. They don’t seem to care much about these songs and I don’t see why we should either.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - My Gold Mask, Leave Me Midnight (2013)

Inky dark vocals and Gothic echoes

Creepy torment, dark shadows, and Gothic echoes fill My Gold Mask's debut album. Leave Me Midnight is full of songs that bind low-fi elements carefully layered with a retro production style marked by crisp, reverbed isolation. The band develops a sound like the master recordings were left in a haunted house to soak up the ambiance until even the more pop-oriented tracks take on a pensive quality. It's fitting that the songs are rooted in synth-pop, but the beats aren’t anchored to the dance floor. Lead singer, Gretta Rochelle has a richly expressive voice that invites comparisons to Siouxsie Sioux, with some of Amanda Palmer's modern theatricality. The counter-rhythms and jigsaw tight arrangements push well past any genre limitations, occasionally reveling in complexity without sabotaging intensity.

Unquestionably, though, the best song on the album is the simplest. “Without” opens with a staccato guitar that tips a hat to the Cure, while Rochelle's voice hovers between seductive and petulant.

Love, oh it’s taken me so long...
Love, oh it’s tearing me apart...
Love, I don’t even know what for...
I’m without you 

Her hopelessness is raw and honest; the spare musical accompaniment lets the words sit and ripple outwards. That first verse sets the hook, but the second verse reveals that this is a duet, with Jack Armondo repeating the lyrics. Unlike the unadorned female vocal, his lines eventually pick up a harmony part. The mantra-like repetition of the last line drives home the forced separation between the two sides; each of us is alone, wanting the same connection. Armondo's calm delivery is a nice contrast to Rochelle’s flash on the rest of the album. Somewhere between Dave Gahan (Depeche Mode) and Peter Murphy (Bauhaus), he grounds the song, supporting its powerful fatalism.

The rest of Leave Me Midnight measures up as the band tempers their retro synth-pop with an even older sound, rooted in the '60s. Songs like “Some Secrets” draw upon that era's experimental aesthetic, drenching low-fi precision in a thick coat of reverb. When the rhythm kicks in to transform the song, Rochelle's voice is inky pop perfection. As the intensity grows, it sounds more like My Gold Mask managed to record the reflected echoes of an idealized live version. Similarly old-school, “Burn Like The Sun” uses garage psych to set the scene for some kind of pagan rite. Rochelle's tone is a bit brighter than Siouxsie Sioux’s, but in moments like “Nightfalls” or the verses of “Lost In My Head”, her voice is resurrected. But it’s not a slavish imitation; it’s just a shared expressiveness. As “Song of Wound” offers its arty, Bauhaus vibe, her drawn out phrases and wordless singing raise that familiar vocal spectre to caper with the tribal drums. Leave Me Midnight is cloudy like absinthe and just as bittersweet.

Recording review - Dragonette, Bodyparts (2012)

Imperfect pop but some cool stuff on the edges

Perfect pop is all about plasticity. That's why so many pop acts are almost interchangeable. Every now and then a fresh flavor catches the market and creates a new star, but other acts soon coopt the pattern and restore balance to the pop arms race. Many bands last for a while and then either fade into obscurity or transform themselves into a unique voice.

Dragonette are not the perfect pop band, though they seem to aim for that. The electro pop grooves on Bodyparts hit a good balance of dance-oriented beats and cool electronica, while singer Martina Sorbara's vocals are sweetened to teen idol smoothness on many of the tracks. But they miss the pop ideal because they never quite manage to mold themselves into a pure image. They toy with expressive synth pop, sassy rock, and emotional pop along with their dancier pop moments. This makes it hard to know how to take them

This weakness is a sign that Dragonette may achieve greater artistic impact with a longer career. But it makes Bodyparts a mixed bag. They undercut the overall super pop vibe with too many edges. At the same time, the polished smoothness makes it harder to trust their credibility. It's never quite clear whether they even take themselves seriously.

Bodyparts opens with a bubbly synth pop sound on Run Run Run. Sorbara's vocal is scrubbed clean except for a touch of echo and chorus. She sounds like a mix of retro acts like Teri Nunn crossed with a more modern Gwen Stefani. The arrangement fits the style, with shimmery keyboards, the obligatory arpeggiated synth, and a solid kick-heavy beat. It's catchy, setting a good pop mood.

Unfortunately, the next track, Live In This City, shatters that vibe. It's still poppy, but reaches for old school rock 'n' roll, with a swirl of Pat Benetar or the Runaways channeled into bubble gum pop. The lyrics are full of braggadocio:

Me and my gang and some blind bandit
We wind up around the summer, roll it over to Can'da
Just so you know, that queen with the face that you call My Little Pony
We basically invented this place, that's why it's standing room only
Standing room only!

I love the spunky attitude and the wacky video. But these first two songs together make it hard to figure out what Dragonette is trying to do.

My other favorite track also stands out from the mix. My Legs sets up a moody electro pop groove. The song picks a cool progressive house feel as it builds into the chorus. The lyrical concept is clever, with Sorbara blaming her body for leading her astray:

Awake, I don't know how I got there
A number written on my arm in marker
Ten bucks spent, I'm feelin' better
Five phone calls for me to fill in the picture
...
I can't stop my legs
My legs go out late dancing
I try to wash my face
My lips say "Put on makeup"
Can't stay home cause my body's 
Got itself all dressed up
And I'm the one who pays for it 
Tomorrow when I wake up.

The tension builds with the saw chord synth gouging chunks out of the groove. Dragonette channels a bit of Deadmau5 here to good effect.

Don't get me wrong, the pure pop side of the band on songs like Lay Low, Rocket Ship, or Riot is decent, too. They offer great dance beats, slick production, and catchy hooks. If Bodyparts had stayed in this mode, it would have been satisfying session of sweet distraction. On the other hand, the energy and attitude of Live In This City and My Legs are blunted by the simpler dance grooves on the rest of the album. Those two songs have a strong pop vibe, but they have more spice than the other tracks. It sounds like the band can't quite settle on a sound or they're just trying to capitalize on their success with Martin Solveig on his song Hello.

 With a little effort and some playlist editing, this is a solvable problem. In the meantime, I'll be interested to see which direction Dragonette chooses.

August singles

Three completely different flavors of dance friendly music for your enjoyment.

The Wallflowers - Reboot the Mission (from Glad All Over, due October 2012)



It's been a long break between releases for Jakob Dylan's band, the Wallflowers. After big sales and heavy attention in the '90s, the band never seemed to match the popularity of their first two records.

The band is enthusiastic about the new songs, though. Reboot the Mission is the first single off their upcoming album, Glad All Over. The Wallflowers are showing a cool change in direction with this track. They partnered with Mick Jones, who brings a strong sense of his old band, Big Audio Dynamite. The ska tinged rock groove is plenty danceable. I hope the rest of the new album shows a similar kind of reinvention.

Drop by The Wallflowers' site to download your own copy.

Kinky - Despues Del After (from Sueño De La Maquina)



The steady funk bass groove is a wicked hook, baited with a counterpoint of guitar. Kinky's melding of electro-pop, funk, and hip hop on Despues Del After is infectiously fun. My Spanish is a little rusty, but the lyrical flow is ultra-smooth. The video is worth checking out, just to see the light suit guy work his popping moves.

Kinky is one of those bands that may have slipped your radar, but they've placed their songs in commercials, TV shows, and games for years. Their early track, Cornman was the first time I heard the band, but that was ten years ago. They're still going strong and creating compelling jams.

The Mynabirds - Disarm (from Generals)

The Mynabirds - Disarm from Saddle Creek on Vimeo.

Laura Burhenn and the Mynabirds have turned away from the sweet soulful grooves of What We Lose In The Fire We Gain In The Flood, which may disappoint some of their fans. On Generals, the Mynabirds are making a political statement and reaching for a completely different sonic palette. Disarm is a bouncy synth-pop romp. Between the dance beat and Burhenn's voice, I keep hearing ABBA, but there's a stronger lyrical foundation. The black and white video is artsy and nicely edited.

Generals is Burhenn's counterpoint to Richard Avendon's portrait of The Generals of the Daughters of the American Revolution. That indignation may slip out more on some of the other tracks, but Disarm is more of an earnest entreaty.

February Singles

Three very different flavors this month.

Santigold - Disparate Youth (from Master of My Make Believe, due 1 May)


Santigold has offered a couple of tastes from the eagerly awaiting Master of My Make Believe. The latest, Disparate Youth, sets its electro pop hook quickly, but has plenty of nice edges to keep it interesting. Her casual vocals give the track a reflective vibe that fits the trancy repetitive keyboards. The light dusting of chank beat keys are a nod to Jamaica, where she did some of the recording.

Zambri - ICBYS (from House of Baasa, due 10 April)

ICBYS (I Can Believe You Said) sets a frenetic pace. Zambri has crossed Missing Persons style synth pop with David Bowie's Scary Monsters and packed it with a dance friendly beat. The duo's manic vocals move beyond quirky to take on a disturbed quality that meshes well with the thick sound, full of noisy artifacts.

Download the track at Stereogum.

Spanish Prisoners - Know No Violence (from Gold Fools)

Spanish Prisoners - Know No Violence (official music video) from Spanish Prisoners on Vimeo.

Pretty dream pop guitar sets a relaxed mood for Know No Violence. Autumn Stein's dancing late in the video is the perfect expression of the subtle joy infusing this track. The sweet falsetto vocals hint at pretty secrets with a wistful tone. I'm looking forward to listening to Gold Fools to see if Spanish Prisoners can deliver on their self described genre of "tremolo-haze headphone symphonies". Gold Fools is available for "name your price" at their Bandcamp page.

Wait with me, forget your silence
You and I will know no violence...

CD review - We Have Band, Ternion (2012)

Electro pop fits headphones as well as the dance floor

We Have Band's debut, WHB (review here), was an intriguing mix of retro synth pop and modern dance rock with an electro pop shine. Their follow up album, Ternion, still melds old school and contemporary elements, but We Have Band has honed their danceable electronic sound, expanding on earlier tracks like Divisive.

Ternion may not be as guitar focused or trippy as WHB, but it's still a richly intriguing album. The driving beats give these songs a lot of energy and the album has a very interesting flow. The opener, After All, has an insistent dance groove which collapses into the dreamy relief of Pressure On. The transition is like a high dive into a relaxed underwater world. The thoughtful electro dream pop vibe is layered with whispers and hidden secrets. We Have Band subvert the song a bit near the end by moving it into a darker space, hinting at vague dangers. But it's just part of the reverie's progression.

WHB continues to mine '80s synth pop for inspiration, hinting at New Order, Psychedelic Furs, and some of Fine Young Cannibals' soul vocals. But the retro vibe just adds flavor to the electro pop grooves that keep Ternion firmly in dance space. By mixing and matching along this continuum, the band gives each track a distinctive feel.

Take Watertight, with its springy electronic start. That intro is quickly subsumed by the edgy punch of fuzzed guitars and feedback. The dynamic shifts between noisy drive and sparser moments add depth, but the underlying beat is relentless.

That contrasts with the heavier new wave vibe of Tired of Running. The steady beat is familiar, but the flanged vocals and subtle sonic textures create a moody tension. A bit like the Who's Eminence Front meets Another Brick in the Wall at the disco, the track couples repetitive intensity with a taut restlessness. I really enjoy how We Have Band's music is just as natural for headphones as the dance floor.

November singles

Another small collection of interesting tones from a wide range of sources.

The Big Sleep - Ace (from Nature Experiments, coming in early 2012)

The initial chop of staccato guitars sounds almost synth-like. But then Ace quickly takes on a more standard indie rock feel, with a more metered guitar line laid across the chop rhythm. Strong female vocals maintain control even as the chorus' grinding guitars thrash in.

The Big Sleep may a fairly small band, but they know how to effectively layer contrasting guitar lines and control dynamics. From the measured repressed tension of the interlude after the first chorus to wailing builds that threaten to overwhelm the song, Ace is a melange of textures. Indie rock leans towards post rock.

Ace is available for download from The Big Sleep's Facebook page.

James Leg - Do How You Wanna (from Solitary Pleasure)

It was just another party that turned into a jam session in my friend's basement. We'd been wailing away on blues based jams for hours -- the smoke was thick, ears were ringing, and we were all in awe of the powerful groove we were creating. It was a experience captured only by our memories.

James Leg (AKA John Wesley Myers of Black Diamond Heavies) channels his own version on Do How You Wanna. It's a lo-fi blues deconstruction with a grinding rhythm and flailing lead. Like the best garage rock or old school blues, the visceral playing is anchored in the magic of a moment. Leg's battery acid vocals are part Captain Beefheart and part hard ass living.

Pick up a free download here.

Housse de Racket - Chateau (from Alesia)



At its heart, all synth pop aspires to a kind of French ideal. The aloof vocals that cushion a deep inner emotion, the smooth perfection of the music, and the mix of retro cool and modern fashion all conjure a Gallic sense. French duo Housse de Racket willingly show how it's done.

Chateau updates the classic synth pop sound by emphasizing the pop elements. Its dance beat anchors the song, so the slightly moody vine ultimately succumbs to the insistence of the rhythm. Still, the lush synthesizers dress up the beat in fine fashion.

The art house video for Chateau is a great match for the song: full of symbolic static shots, distant actors, and stylized action. Housse de Racket is touring the US next month.

October singles

It's time again to collect some music that caught my ear this month. Check out some funk, a couple of very different lo-fi retro songs, and some synth pop flavored rock. Pick your poison.

Greedy Cherry - No Excuse (from EP)

Bass player Michael Conrad recorded his EP under the band name Greedy Cherry. After graduating from the Berklee College of Music, he assembled a talented crew of musicians matched to each track of the project. Conrad took an experimental approach on the EP, jumping from style to style. The flow, especially on the first three tracks, is surprisingly coherent.

Lead off track No excuse was my favorite song from EP. The solid funk groove opens with a Temptations style bass line, but once it gets underway, it incorporates tasty guitar work and beautiful organ lines.

Funk often plays with a tight rhythm by slipping a little behind the beat, then catching up to create a kind of hang moment. Greedy Cherry extends this into a suspended hold. Check out the dub drop at 0:19. Everybody drops out except the keys for a full measure. As the organ holds a chord, the next 4 seconds float long enough to sound like a track glitch before slipping back in. It's all in the timing.


Bare Wires - Back on the Road (from Cheap Perfume)

I can't click through my inbox without tripping over yet another band strutting out their lo-fi, garage tone trying capture some retro cred. All too often, the band is just a muddy mess or, worse, they're somehow pretentiously sloppy. Yes, garage rock is lo-fi, reverbed, and twangy, but the real thing bottles lightning and can raise the hair on the back of your neck.

Oakland's Bare Wires understand this in their DNA. Not only do they hit that sweet fuzzy sonic spot, they get that live, all-at-once energy. Where their competition can sound right if the playback volume is high enough, Bare Wires sounds righteous at any volume.

Back on the Road starts out like the Animals with a dash of Who. The high tension beat and formal rhythm guitar evoke Roky Erickson - not when he's battling his demons, but when he's exultant. The hardest thing about listening is not picking up my guitar to play along.

Bare Wires just dropped their latest album, Cheap Perfume, on October 18 (Southpaw Records).

Mark Sultan - In Future Worlds (from the double release, Whatever/Whenever I Want)



Before you even watch the video, you owe it to yourself to read Mark Sultan's rant declaring war on rock 'n' roll. It's as heartfelt as any classic SubGenius rant, begging us to kill rock'n'roll to save it. This is how Sultan pulled me into his sphere. Reading about him, I figure he's some kind of snake-oil selling genius, but he's wormed his way into my brain.

In Future Worlds bridges garage psychedelia and doo-wop. Unlike Bare Wires, Sultan's version of the garage is anything but effortless. But the quirkiness is still compelling. The lyrics play with abstract imagery, and Sultan's voice shifts between intoned verses and the Del Shannon style chorus. Like the song itself, the video romps in joyful excess.

Continuing the complexity, Sultan has released two vinyl albums, What ever I Want and Whenever I Want, along with a compilation CD, Whatever/Whenever that pulls 7 tracks from each album.

The Gift - RGB (from Explode)

The Gift is a four piece band out of Portugal. They've made their mark back home, but now they're ready to grab some attention here in the States. Their latest album, Explode, released here last month and they had a quick cross country tour before heading down to Brazil.

RGB shows off their lush synth pop infused sound. The synthesizer riff and washes set the hook, but a solid rock beat kicks in to shift the feel from electronica to pop. The interlocking guitar lines and heavy drum work mesh smoothly with the synth underpinnings. Sónia Tavares' voice is strong, deep, and fluid.

Grab the free download and enjoy the Gift's polished sound.

Concert review - The Rosebuds with Other Lives

16 July 2011 (Hi-Dive, Denver CO)

I anticipated this show because I enjoyed Other Lives' Tamer Animals so much (review here). Other Lives have been touring with the Rosebuds. I'm not sure how they work out billing on the shows, but last night Other Lives opened the show. Other Lives pulled a larger crowd, but both bands had some dedicated fans at the bar.

There were some instrumental overlaps between the two bands, like the violin, but they came from radically different aesthetics. I'm not convinced it was a good pairing because the Rosebuds' simpler music didn't stand up to Other Lives' richer sound. Despite these differences, the bands got along very well and graciously encouraged the audience to support the other act. They even cross pollinated and sat in on each others set.

Other Lives

Tamer Animals is currently one of my favorite albums of the year. Its unique cinematic scope and orchestral depth offer worlds of detail to explore. I anticipated this show, because I wanted to see how they'd compromise the studio sound of the songs to bring them into a club setting.

Other Lives surprised my by recreating the rich sound and complexity in their live show. It was amazing to see 5 musicians build the songs, often pulling double or triple duty in a single song. It would be impressive enough to have a band member who played keys, guitar, violin, and trumpet, but in Other Lives, he sometimes played two instruments at the same time. And the rest of the band similarly pulled their weight.

The instrument changes gave the show a dynamic feel. Otherwise, their stage presence was fairly serious and focused. Frontman Jesse Tabish had a shy demeanor and often seemed embarrassed during his few times addressing the audience.

Other Lives opened with As I Lay My Head Down, recreating the thick echoed vocal sound and haunting string accompaniment. Despite the high stage volume, the sound was full of detail, although it was hard sometimes to map every element back to the specific musician. For 12 delivered the album version's open western sound with dark undercurrents, but it was harder to pull some of the details out of the mix.

The audience repaid the band's careful attention, immersing in the songs. Less rowdy than most club crowds, they gave the songs real attention, but still erupted when they finished. The band closed the set with a looser version of Weather, which built up an avalanche of sound and evoked an earlier period Radiohead vibe. The open echo of the final notes maintained the spell for just a moment before the crowd showed their appreciation.

Other Lives' ambitious effort to reproduce their lush studio sound was impressive. The visual excitement of tight timing and instrument swapping was an integral part of their live show. That said, the noisy club environment made it harder to appreciate the nuance of the songs. By all means, catch their show, but it's no substitute for getting a copy of Tamer Animals.

The Rosebuds

The Rosebuds are Ivan Howard and Kelly Crisp, along with whichever drummer they're using at the time. Last night's show included a fourth member who played violin and bass. Although, Crisp and her keyboard sat center stage, Howard was the focus of the show, doing most of the lead vocals and driving the songs with his guitar.

Compared to Other Lives, the Rosebuds had a much simpler and more straightforward sound. Most of their songs were rooted in a retro '80s synth pop sound, but updated with some indie rock elements. The guitar was often so drenched in echo that it sounded like a keyboard, merging in with Crisp's keyboard lines. Backing vocals tended to long tonal harmonies. Bits of Duran Duran and Tears for Fears wafted through the songs, spreading a moody pop vibe.

Where Other Lives erected layers of rich complexity, the Rosebuds built basic grooves. With a more complementary opening act, those grooves would have been more interesting. The mix didn't help either, Crisp's vocals and the violin were both difficult to hear.

The live version of their new tune, Second Bird of Paradise, toned down its jazzy vibe with stronger reverb and keyboard washes. The music was a sharp contrast to their stage personas. Both Howard and Crisp connected as genuine and pleasant, offering simple warmth and cheeriness. While playing, though, their stage presence was static and their songs had a stylistic distance.

They broke that pattern near the end of their set. Stepping off the stage to go unplugged, they pulled the crowd in close for a sing along. This showed off more of their folky tendencies. This was the strongest part of their show; getting closer to the crowd and creating the audience participation was more in line with their personalities.

The Rosebuds will be opening for Bon Iver through the next leg of their tour.

More photos on my Flickr.

CD review - UNKLE, Only the Lonely (2011)

UNKLE has roots in trip-hop, but now the group is effectively a name for James Lavelle and his partners to produce collaborations with various alternative artists. Only the Lonely is a brief but exciting 5 song EP, featuring Nick Cave, Leila Moss (the Duke Spirit), Gavin Clark (Clayhill), and Rachel Fannen (Sleepy Sun). The April 4 release coordinates with an extended reissue of last year's Where Did The Night Fall. The new version is called Where Did The Night Fall – Another Night Out and features Only the Lonely and a host of other songs as a second disc.

Only The Lonely's music is a mix of electronically influenced post-punk dream pop. Psychedelia and synth pop melt into the thick stew of sound, too. Taken as a whole, there's a sense of moody desperation that kicks in on the very first track.

Take the Money and Run could be the soundtrack for a scene in a Guy Ritchie action flick like Snatch. The dark, droning foundation sets up a desperate energy while Nick Cave's vocal adds the perfect Gothic edge. There's a deconstructed blues vibe at the root, but the thrashy grind and Cave's detachment create a psychedelic intensity.

The tension continues in The Dog is Black. The rhythm drives the song relentlessly. Leila Moss evokes Siouxsie and the Banshees with her arch vocals. At the same time, the chorus sounds like a harder edged version of Running Up That Hill (Kate Bush). Moss's work with the Duke Spirit often hits this space, but the production is smoothed and layered, providing the right level of distance.

The moody instrumental title cut is a mildly psychedelic take on a synth pop jam. Updating a New Order sound, the beat is more uptempo and electric. Only the Lonely takes the time to develop, breathing between steady beat sections and looser, more resonant parts. There's also an ambient quality reminiscent of Brian Eno.

This leads well into the droning dreaminess of Wash the Love Away. Gavin Clark infuses the down tempo groove with languid Bono-style vocals. The rest of the music also fits the U2 mold. The backing vocals expands the sound into its own character.

The hazy dreaming continues on Sunday Song. Rachel Fannen's vocals sound like an up tempo Tori Amos, especially on the chorus. The music, though, maintains the electro post punk sound that pervades the rest of the EP. It's distant and introspective.

I love the way Only the Lonely takes such disparate collaborators and forges a consistent mood and sound. The EP's tension is wrapped in a sonic distance that gives it a soothing, meditative quality. Grab it from UNKLE's online store or spring for the full Where Did The Night Fall – Another Night Out reissue.

CD review - Fujiya & Miyagi, Ventriloquizzing (2011)

Brighton's Fujiya & Miyagi have been around for quite a while, cruising beneath everyone's radar. They garnered a bit of attention recently with their music picked up for a couple of commercials, but their newest album, Ventriloquizzing, doesn't pander to any kind of populist appeal. It's moody and intriguing -- more inviting than gushing.

The album is a hearty stew of contrasting references and influences: Can, Depeche Mode, Beck, Talking Heads, and Stephen Malkmus. Krautrock, synth pop, and a kind of alternative, tightly constrained funk hardly seem like a recipe for success. But the balance between these disparate pieces creates a delicious tension and a sense of deeper meaning. The layers of kraut keyboards set a subtle psychedelic undercurrent throughout Ventriloquizzing that fits with the deadpan vocal delivery.

Sixteen Shades of Black and Blue feels like a reworked version of Depeche Mode's Personal Jesus. The synthpop vibe infuses the emotionless violence of the lyrics with a stormcloud threat. The brief keyboard solo highlights a sense of inevitability.

The Beck comparison is rooted in the detached singing and strangled, stylized funk of songs like and Cat Got Your Tongue, Yoyo, and Taiwanese Boots. This latter has a fair amount of Talking Heads (Crosseyed and Painless) lurking in its depths. Throughout these songs, the moody keys add a mild psychedelic aura. Then, for a change, the vocal phrasing and abstract melody of songs like Spilt Milk or Tinsel & Glitter sound like a medicated Jicks-era Stephen Malkmus.

It would be best, though, to ignore all of these comparisons because they miss the unique flavor of Fujiya & Miyagi's sound. Ventriloquizzing offers a sonic snapshot of a particular psychic mindscape. Drifting currents of subconscious ideas flow around passive aggressive islands. Tension is in the very air. And, yet, there's a degree of acceptance.

And it's got a smooth groove. A fine smoky single malt with about 7 drops of water to open the malt will pair nicely.

CD review - Various Artists, U.N. Disco (2010)

Kingem Records' has released a heartfelt tribute to the bygone Euro dance music of the 1980s. Italo disco, as it is more properly known, was one of the earlier forms of electronic dance music. U.N. Disco is a blend of old and new, updating the earlier inspiration into a Neo-Italo sound.

Organizer Mark Zonda drafted his manifesto and describes it in the liner notes:

The rules to follow to be part of the project were simple:
* lyrics had to deal with the future, the Celtic world, Russia, Japan, USA or nightlife fascinations, and above all not necessarily having to make sense.
* Rhythm had to be on 2/2 with a hit and a clap,
* the artists has to take part to the project moonlighting with a made up name related to a female Italian name or a reference to a classic book or tale.

Each band participating brought their own take on the classic style, but the overall tone of U.N. Disco is not so far from modern dance music. This is largely because disco elements have been warmly embraced throughout dance pop lately. Some of the bands strayed from the purely electronic sound of the original Italo disco, throwing in a touch of guitar or bass, but most of the tracks preserve a dance pop/synthpop sound.

The album starts off with Into the Night by "Silvia Paradiso" (Friday Bridge). The sound is jaunty synthpop. The breathy vocals are somewhere in the Missing Persons/Berlin style, while the music features some nice keyboard work. The lyrics also set the tone of looking back: "There's a place called Paderborn, in case that you forgot. Filled with moonlight, filled with promise...". The guitar part fits more with early American disco, but that's a small quibble.

One of the prime exemplars of the style was Hot Times by "Barry Bianco with Vanessa London" (Carlos Valderrama of Fitness Forever). The tongue in cheek Barry White reference shows they're not taking this too seriously, but the music calls that into question. It's a tight dance pop groove with a perfect disco bass line. Despite the steady drive of the beat, there's a languid feel. The male and female vocals have a good chemistry, each providing a different feel: serious and cool versus playful and expressive. If I had to pick the perfect Italo disco tagline, I'd be fairly tempted by "Intercontinental playboy, super macho".

Another interesting track is Camoflage Detection by "Nitelife USA" (Sean Rawls from Still Flyin'). It starts out as a reflective arpeggio sliding into a sparse synthpop progression. Before long, some experimental elements creep in. The vocals slide in and out of a hoarse falsetto and the song builds into a low-fi, clipped audio sound before it eventually self destructs. It's a story song, with interesting lyrics.

Zonda's first rule is probably one part of what made U.N. Disco an appealing album. The lyrical content through the songs was a lot more interesting than the fluff I think of in American disco. Musically, the modern dance pop sounds worked well, too. I'm not sure what the appropriate drink is, perhaps a Campari martini...

CD review - Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, History of Modern (2010)

Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (OMD) is back, with their first studio album in 14 years. Best of all, they've dodged the sad fate of so many band reunions. They still remember what made their music memorable and they sound fresh even as they reach towards the feel of their earlier years. Many of these tracks have been in the works over recent years, so it's especially gratifying that History of Modern is seeing official release (20 September in the UK and 28 September in the US).

Many of the songs evoke OMD's old school synth pop sound, especially songs like Sister Marie Says and Green. Still, the band fuses in more modern club beats and electronica into several tracks. Pulse is a good example of this, along with the R&B infused sound of Sometimes, which features singer Jennifer John.

The album leads off with a catchy track, New Babies: New Toys, which sounds like retro post punk. But the following tune really sealed the deal. The first single, If You Want It, hits that classic OMD sound. The soulful repetition of the chorus is backed with shimmers of synth fills and a rich tonal wash. That chorus has a deeply triumphant feel that I came back to repeatedly.

RFWK is another favorite track. The staccato chop of the intro sets up a higher pitch electronic riff. The verses are clean as the music drops back to mostly drums and vocals, although washes fade in and the synth fill comes back. It's got a reflective feel, but the vocals bring in enough taut, emotional tension to contrast with the cooler musical feel.

The US release includes one extra track, Save Me, which mashes up the vocals from Aretha Franklin's Save Me with music from OMD's Messages (1980). This is the perfect after dinner mint to close out History of Modern. Complement it with a bottle of Lefthand's Good Juju ginger beer.