Showing posts with label brit pop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brit pop. Show all posts

Tribella - Thirteen

Rocklittleface Music

“Jangly” is a complimentary adjective in my music lexicon. It's a descriptor applied quite often to indie rock bands of the early '90s: think classic-era music from UK label 4AD. In the case of Texas trio Tribella, jangly serves as both a term of endearment as well as a nod to their forebearers. These darlings of the Austin music scene produce edgy ethereal power pop, showcased in fine form on their debut full-length album Thirteen.

Released on the heels of the six-song EP My Guest List, and following the band's 2009 U.S. tour, Tribella's Thirteen is an ambitious collection, featuring nine (highly) original songs and one remix. Tribella has three members: lyricist, guitarist and lead vocalist Sarah Glynn, bassist Rae Golding, and drummer/vocalist Dena Gerbrecht. They've kept good live company, sharing stages with such artists as San Antonio trio Girl in a Coma and music festival mainstay Sarah Bettens (K's Choice). The group dips its toes into pseudo-Britpop, indie rock, prog, shoegaze, and even math rock. The result is a gleaming multifaceted expanse, leaping joyously from rhythm to rhythm–often within the same song–while still achieving a constancy of sound that successfully unifies the album.

With lyrics like “Think of all the books you'll read/Now that you're rid of me,” the title track is wry bittersweet barb. Its sting hearkens back to the Lush song, “Ciao!” (featuring Jarvis Cocker of Pulp), in which a recently separated couple barrage each other with insults while wallowing in regret and denial. “Revolution Script” eloquently considers the socio-political impact of our actions, sans preachiness: “Look back with a rock in my hand/Throw it in the future/Hope it might land.”

Previously released EP lead track “My Guest List” also features prominently on Thirteen, both in its original form and as a tinkling, yet somewhat tepid, remix courtesy of Eric LeRoc. There's a sassy defiant charm to its chorus: “And all the world that matters/Will be on my guest list/And all my friends that matter/Will be on my guest list.” It seems to be at once mocking such a shallow mentality, while at the same time celebrating the truly important things in our own little microcosms by bestowing upon them the honor of VIP status.

For me, Tribella's sound is so familiar that it's difficult to critique. I just... like it. I delight in their use of irregular meters (highlighted with the title song, which is played in 13/8 time), their cynical-sweet lyrics, and most of all, Glynn and Gerbrecht's dense harmonies. If your heart doesn't beat to the rhythms of groups like Belly, Throwing Muses, Lush, or Metric, then Tribella might not be your cup of tea. Not everyone cottons to the complex flavors of genre-defying rock. But do me a favor: give it a teensy taste. Please? You never know. You just might like it.

Review by M. Brianna Stallings

Alejandra O’Leary - Nothing Out Loud

Alejandra O’Leary has released an album of high-quality, well-articulated, catchy pop songs that plumb the depths and the banalities of modern life. Influenced by 1960s British compositions and production, the record is wonderfully warm and the songs are well arranged with fleshed out, but never overdone, instrumentation.

The album begins with the pop-perfect tumult of “Ever After,” “Love I Been In,” and “Tremor.” The lyrics crackle with accessible Ivy League intelligence and innuendo. Sleepless nights and frustrated affairs never sounded so good. On “Ever After” O’Leary laments that she’s “tired of giving you my free labor, no time clock, no nights off, well I hate it,” in a Marxism-infused kiss-off. The tracks are both fiery and reflective and are filled with longing and righteous anger.

The middle of the record moves toward pensive territory and features O’Leary’s voice and guitar playing. While this may be familiar terrain for singer-songwriters, O’Leary’s mastery of the pop hook pushes these tracks beyond the realm of the ordinary. Melodies and choruses stick in your head and you find your self humming a refrain with a feeling of warm satisfaction. Nothing Out Loud picks up again towards the end with the standout “I Love Your Tone,” which could just as easily be an ode to an electric guitar as to a lover. The smart songwriting and arranging on Nothing Out Loud places O’Leary in the company of powerhouses like Liz Phair, Britpoppers Elastica, or even the 1960s country-inflected indie rock of She and Him.

While O’Leary’s song craft may be new to many listeners, she has been writing and performing guitar-based pop for well over a decade. As a teenager she graced the Thursday morning airwaves on Southern Maine community radio appearing as a guest on a friend’s show under the guise of “Guitar Girl.” As a listener and aspiring musician I was always impressed by her bravado to perform live on air. Since then, O’Leary has honed her serious commitment to song writing and used that same bravado to create a playfully mature record.

Review by Eleanor Whitney