Jeremy Jay – Splash

K Records

I spent a few years as a DJ for the college radio station during graduate school, and quickly learned that the fastest, most accurate way to asses if you’ll like an album is to pay attention to the label. If you really dig a band, it’s worth your time to research the label that produces their albums–chances are it will be home to other artists you’ll enjoy. Such is the case for K Records, distributed by Secretly Canadian, and home to some of my favorites like anti-folk heroine Kimya Dawson, dance-pop loveliness The Blow, and low-fi folk rocker Jason Anderson.

It is easy to hear how pop-folk artist Jeremy Jay found a home at K, but if the aforementioned artists are seniors at the top of their class, Jay is a freshman with plenty of room for improvement jotted in his report card. Though Splash is Jay’s third release on K, at just over twenty-five minutes, it plays more like a debut EP. One song is no more diverse or interesting than the last; I was in the middle of track three before I realized the album had played all the way through and was on its second rotation. The album’s title conjures images of excitement and disruption that would be more fitting for an artist poised to make waves. But Jeremy Jay is not that artist.

Every song reflected the influence of another musician, but never did I get a feel for Jay’s own unique voice or style. “Just Dial My Number” is an upbeat, summer ditty but the use of piano is so similar to Peter Bjorn and John’s “Young Ones,” that every time it played I thought I was hearing the latter. There are moments when he channels Morrissey; I even heard a little Tracy Chapman on “Someday Somewhere.” But the most notable comparison is to Magnetic Fields front man, Stephin Merritt. But whereas Merritt’s distinctive bass subtly demands you to pay attention to his lyrics, Jay’s more delicate timbre only adds to the ambiguity of his songwriting.

While he certainly evokes the mood of agenda-free days of exploring the city, the lack of imagery and individuality leaves Splash too malleable to make an impression. It would serve well as a soundtrack to a film where visual images and plot might add some heft and dimension to his sound.

Review by Alicia Sowisdral

Corrin Campbell - Game Night

Corrin Campbell is a Wisconsin native who enlisted in the US Army shortly after graduating high school. A combat-vet and former member of the 1st Calvary Division, Campbell trained at the Armed Forces School of Music in Norfolk, Virginia, before beginning her career with the Army Materiel Command Band. As a US Army trained bassist, Campbell has performed for troops around the world before joining forces with her current band, The Election, to create and perform original music. Unfortunately, Campbell’s biography is more interesting than her music.

Game Night is fourteen tracks of high energy, rock complete with grating guitar, wrenching vocals and the occasional pop-infused number. Campbell has drawn comparisons to Heart, a band she is said to idolize, and while the similarity is apparent, so is the irrelevance. Pioneers of female fronted bands, backed by aggressive, guitar driven rock, Heart was at the height of their career in the late seventies and into the eighties. Their last commercially successful album was 1987’s Bad Animals and the current generation is likely more familiar with Fergie’s cover of “Barracuda” than Heart’s original recording.

The Wilson sisters also feature as inspirations, but Campbell’s efforts are way more imitation than influence. Though some might view this as nostalgic, it is more aptly described as dated. Game Night would be more accessible if Campbell had succeeded in breathing new life into a sound she finds inspiring, rather than attempting to re-create it.

Laden with pastiche notwithstanding, Campbell is clearly invested in her craft, utilizing her songwriting to explore her experiences over the years. As she states on her website, “These songs are my attempts to be true through the trials of life and find a healthier way to get through these personal complications.” In a world full of man-made pop idols, Campbell deserves recognition for creating music she loves, with people she respects and on her own terms.

Review by Alicia Sowisdral

Blair - Die Young

Autumn Tone Records

Blair Gimma bounces about between art pop and insightful complexity with her first full-length venture, Die Young, juxtaposing the indelible angst of indie folk rock (with help from her daydreamy vocals) with stark lyrical imagery. Die Young was produced by Keith Ferguson, and uses all New Orleans-based musicians as a sort of tribute to where Blair spent her adolescence. Although the deep-rooted sounds of this genre are not entirely reflected in Die Young, the personal nature of the record touches on its sentimentality, as if most of the songs were acoustically derived from adversity and recorded in the solitude of Blair's bathroom.

“Rampage” sets the partial tone for the record, filling the landscape with echoed reverb and a little Pavement-inspired noise rock delight. Listening to electric keyboard synths in the opening verse of “Hearts,” one can almost picture the rolling credits of a favorite 80s soundtrack in all of its soft new wave splendor. “Hello Halo” features Blair's sprightly vocals, cushioned with classic indie distortion and a pulsing, syncopated beat that’s as pleasing as it is fitting, all while Blair recites, “Got a radio in my head…and it tells me what to say"; not to mention Blair’s amusing ode to girly glory, as she continues by deadpanning, “Kittens, rainbows!” “Paris, France” is moody and ethereal, blending electro-pop and the warm glow of ambient-pop, lush and hypnotic. “Candy in the Kitchen” works with heavy beats and moves in the same direction, albeit with a bit of a departure from the rest of the record. Gleefully, Blair sings, “I was dancing to Whitney Houston,” as you adjust your ears earnestly just to hear what she’ll say next.

Die Young is an extension of light summery pop melodies with harsh complex concepts that cut through its airy pop conventionality. Blair’s mix of vulnerability and savvy musical chops work in tandem, even though some of the songs could be on different records. Her personal pilgrimage, lasting over a span of five years, is still in its beginning stages, a cunning premonition to her eventual creative evolution in the years to come.

Review by Cat Veit

R.E.M. - Fables Of The Reconstruction (25th Anniversary 2-Disc Re-Issue)

EMI/Capitol Records

Call it what you will: alternative rock, guitar pop, college radio. For better or worse, R.E.M. were responsible for making it—and making it big. Even a casual listener knows when they hear an R.E.M. song. Theirs has always been a definitive sound: Bill Berry's frenetic drums, Peter Buck's jangly guitar, those literate stream-of-consciousness lyrics, and, of course, Michael Stipe's vulnerable voice, leaping from plaintive wail to cooing croon to murmur (pun intended), often within the same song.

They started out weird. Pretty, sure, but still weird. Then they got famous and became dogmatic, showing up at award shows with serious faces and message t-shirts. R.E.M. relinquished their indie status long ago, leaving behind I.R.S. Records and signing with Warner Brothers in the late '80s. They're now a renowned cornerstone of contemporary American music. R.E.M. was inducted in the Rock N' Roll Hall Of Fame in 2007, and the 1981 song “Radio Free Europe” was recently added to the Library of Congress's National Recording Registry.

Yet just before super-stardom and the soapbox, there was Fables Of The Reconstruction. R.E.M. originally released Fables Of The Reconstruction in June of 1985. Today, it's back—as a 25th anniversary 2-CD re-issue. R.E.M.'s first two albums, Murmur and Reckoning, have both already received the deluxe treatment. Fables Of The Reconstruction is another shining example of R.E.M.'s early-career aesthetic.

The Athens Demos, included as the second disc on the re-issue, stand on their own as excellent alternates to the (now classic) originals. There's precious little variation from demo to album version, yet still just enough difference to be noticeable. They show a band, confident as a collective, fine-tuning these already well-honed songs. Stand-outs include “Can't Get There From Here,” which felt much more playful than the original; “Green Grow The Rushes,” with demo vocals that sounded warmer and more intimate; “Driver 8,” which, although a little off-key and possessing more prominent background vocals, was still charming.

Of the thirteen tracks on The Athens Demos, three were not on the original release. Two of them, “Bandwagon” and “Hyena,” went on to be released on other albums; “Bandwagon” was also a bonus track on the import version of Fables Of The Reconstruction. Then there's “Throw Those Trolls Away,” the much-hyped previously unreleased track that, sadly, is completely forgettable and altogether expendable. It's also worth noting that the songs on the second disc are both out of album sequence (not that odd), and curiously, listed in alphabetical order.

Over the last several years, re-releases have become standard among bands of R.E.M.'s status; deluxe edition re-releases are to today what box sets were to the '90s. Listeners are granted greater access to a band's oeuvre. Plus, if they're die-hard fans and/or music snobs, they're also granted a sense of collection completion—not to mention bragging rights.

Review by M. Brianna Stallings

Passion Pit - Manners

Colombia

To get the most out of Passion Pit’s debut album, you will need: a healthy appetite for sugary keyboard riffs, plenty of enthusiasm for falsetto vocals, and a large space in which to dance around like crazy. Having gathered these things, you can dive straight into Manners and experience all the colours promised by the album’s cover art. This is music that isn’t afraid of a bit of fluoro.

But once you’ve danced around the room a few times and flopped down on the couch, you might start to notice that there’s darkness in Passion Pit’s world as well. In between those insistent beats and sparkling keyboards, composer Michael Angelokos is asking questions like, "Is this the way my life has got to be?" and "Why do I always need to need you when you’re fleeting?," or simply requesting that we leave him alone.

Angelokos launched Passion Pit three years ago as "a humble one-man multi-track laptop project" from his college dorm room. Since then, he has managed to create Manners and gather a band to perform the album live. Passion Pit even had a hit on the Billboard Heatseekers chart with "Sleepyhead," which made it to number nine.

Passion Pit’s website describes Manners as "baroque and intricate in its construction," which sums up both its appeal and its main stumbling block. There’s enough going on here to sustain multiple listens, but perhaps too much for us to ever really get a grip on the emotion behind the material. Angelokos is in there somewhere, but more often than not, he’s obscured by the blinding brightness of his music.

If the emotion on Manners is hard to make out, its take on gender is all but buried. While Angelokos is generally singing to or about a "you," the identity of this person—like much of the album’s lyrical content—remains a complete mystery.

It’s only as the album winds down that we finally get a glimpse of the Angelokos behind the beats and sparkles. The acoustic versions of "Sleepyhead" and "Moth’s Wings" reveal a thoughtful, reflective man with a sweet, soaring voice, while the final track, a cover of The Cranberries’ "Dreams," suggests either a love of early nineties pop or a wicked sense of humour. All this points to one conclusion: we need to hear more from Passion Pit.

Review by Alice Allan

Christina Aguilera - Bionic

RCA Records

Christina Aguilera has been a polemic figure since her breakthrough hit "Genie in a Bottle". She has a sexual aesthetic similar to a young Madonna’s, fashion sense like Cher’s, and raw vocal power comparable to a younger Whitney Houston’s. Her albums contain raunchy sexed-up tracks that appeal to sexually blossoming young adults and stately ballads that appeal to their post-menopausal mothers. Power pop, pop rock, R&B, hip-hop, dance, and even a little alt-rock have been found in some form on her albums. It’s a curse and a blessing for Christina that she can sound like anyone and sing almost anything. She’s always been difficult to categorize. Her ability to be so many things has caused critics to chastise her for not having her own unique presence.

The campaign for the collaboration-heavy Bionic began in the blogosphere with the declaration “Aguilera goes indie.” Ladytron, Le Tigre, Goldfrapp, M.I.A., Santigold, John Hill, and Sia all stepped up to the plate when an apprehensive Aguilera (convinced by her husband) reached out to them. The end result is an album that finds Christina caught between two worlds. Before, she seemed to be making the choice between being a serious singer or a pop star. Now, Christina Aguilera must chose between either being an “indie” darling or being the radio star. In the end, she is seemingly much more interesting doing “indie” impersonations than she is making radio ready pop.

The mainstream songs dominate the eighteen-track standard edition of the album and are, unfortunately, the weakest offerings from the Bionic sessions. Tricky Stewart never really replicates his production magic on his hits like “Umbrella” or “Single Ladies.” The Spanglish “Desnudate” sounds as if J.Lo, Pitbull, and Gloria Estefan went on an all night coke binge and decided to log some studio time in the process. The clunky Spanish translations, which seem to have been lifted directly from an online search engine, cause the track to sink even further. "Glam," touted as a modern "Vogue," is a cute but innocuous gay-friendly track that brings to mind Paris is Burning and Sex and the City. “Prima Donna” is slinky, urban, club fodder salvaged only by a confident hood delivery from Xtina, whose singing eerily sounds more and more like Michael Jackson by the bridge of the track.

Polow Da don’s tracks don’t fare much better. “Woo Hoo” (feat. Nicki Minaj), an ode to Christina’s lady parts, is fun, but the production is too sparse and predictable. “I Hate Boys” is a bratty, juvenile kiss-off that is the biggest stylistic misstep for Christina. It’s whooshing, grating production and taunting melody make it seem as if she’s trying to bite at the heels of Katy Perry and Ke$ha. But, this is a Christina Aguilera album, and with a deluxe version boasting twenty-four tracks in total there is still much more here to be examined.

A feel good collaboration with Le Tigre, “My Girls” is delightfully similar in its levity and playfulness. It combines Le Tigre’s penchant for female assertiveness and Christina’s stiletto wearing, ruby-lipped brand of third wave feminism. The product is a funky, lo-fi, disco-y, '90s, Girl Power pop with a Peaches feature and an adorable riot grrrrl shout-out to her collaborators.

With many of these collaborations Aguilera has been criticized for lacking a true identity and “ripping off” these artists, which I think is somewhat unfair. Can you call it “ripping off” if there is a consensual collaboration involved? In my opinion Xtina has been unable to maintain a clear musical identity out of sheer boredom and dynamic virtuosity. Yes, her voice is the only distinguishing feature that ties her albums together, but in her defense, why do one thing when you can do everything?

One burning question remains. How does one listen to such an album with such extreme stylistic differences from song to song? I’d say treat it like a mix-tape. With this number of tracks, various styles, and collaborators it’s safe to say that Christina Aguilera has made an album for the digital age. There are multiple ten-fifteen track albums that can be created from this lot for everyone to enjoy.

Review by Javi

This is an excerpt from a much longer, more detailed review that can be found at Electroqueer.

MONO - Holy Ground: NYC Live with The Wordless Music Orchestra

Temporary Residence

MONO is a golden goose. Their live album, Holy Ground, is a golden egg. With three guitars, drums, and sans vocals, they are completely focused on the music at hand. Both their music and performance are intense and entrancing. MONO's sound is a mix of classical and rock, at times gliding with genres such as shoegaze and post-rock. For a better idea, imagine a movie score set to beautiful, dramatic visuals. At times, they remind me of bands such as Dead Can Dance.

On Holy Ground, band members Tamaki Kunishi, Takaakira Goto, Yoda, and Yasunori Takada are joined by The Wordless Music Orchestra. Here we have a literal celebration of strings. The band sets the mood while the orchestra really makes the music fly. Takaakira and Yoda have fun dueling with fingering, distortion, and effects; Tamaki sways with her guitar and ruminates at the piano; Yasunori forever fuels the beat. The Wordless Music Orchestra takes the drama of each song and blasts it into outer space, taking the listener along for the ride.

Each song delights the senses in a different way. My skin bristled with chill during "Ashes In The Snow." The solemn emptiness is felt in "Burial At Sea." "Where Am I" made me think of a lonely person roaming a rainy street at night.

The album also comes with a DVD of the concert, which is great. I think DVDs of live shows are a perfect backdrop while cleaning, crafting, or moving furniture in your apartment. While you're working, you receive the benefit of music and when you're sitting for a spell, there's something interesting to watch on TV. Though the film quality is a bit on the grainy side, it's still a treat to see how these musicians play live. It's easy to pretend that you were actually there.

Holy Ground: NYC Live With the Wordless Music Orchestra is a flawless collection from a skilled ensemble.

Review by Jacquie Piasta

Summer People - Good Problems

Red Leader Records

Ah, spring time on a New England college campus! I always forget what it’s like when everyone emerges out of the stacks of the library, poorly-lit dorms, and stuffy classrooms to congregate on the sunny main green. Amid intellectual circle-discussions, shirtless Frisbee tosses, romantic lunches, and hipster dance parties, the upstate New York band Summer People couldn’t have picked a better time to release Good Problems, a seemingly perfect soundtrack for this cultural phenomenon.

Eight people collaborated on Good Problems, which was recorded live with no effects, giving it a gritty, authentic feel. Thirteen tracks is awfully ambitious for a freshman project, but the Summer People’s debut proves to be a noteworthy, sophisticated, eclectic mix of classic rock, folk, punk, and indie sounds. Each track evokes a completely different experience of sounds and moods, yet the album as a whole comes together seamlessly and brilliantly.

Several songs on Good Problems give the airy, folksy feel of Fleet Foxes or Death Cab for Cutie, including “Two Hearted River,” “The Other Side,” and “Curtained Rain.” With cheery lyrics, chants, handclaps, and guitar, these tracks produce a delicate acoustic sound that greatly contrast with the other, more traditionally alternative rock vibe of “Shallow Water People,” “Balcony,” and “Two Truths.” With slow buildups to loud percussion and the occasional off-key screaming, some reviewers have commented on the “bi-polar mood swings” of these tracks, and really, the album as a whole. It swings back down to a more melancholic, electric, instrumental feel with “For Giving In” and “The Sun Was Up,” which have a similar to sound to Sigur Rós- both poetic and haunting.

While not everyone will appreciate the experimental, artsy sound of Good Problems's, both the messy rock tracks and the poetic mellow instrumentals match the eclectic conglomeration of warm weather gatherings, and is a perfect fit to the desperate enjoyment of the sun right before the exam-time crunch. As the title of the album suggests, despite the stress, college life is filled with generally good problems.

Review by Abigail Chance

Mighty Tiger - Western Theater

Paper Garden Records

Mighty Tiger are the sort of band to open for Animal Collective or Grizzly Bear on tour—and not just because of their similar four-legged names. It’s easy to compare bands in folksy sub-genres, but the truth is, Mighty Tiger are a solid pop-driven fit among more established bands of similar persuasion.

On Western Theater, Mighty Tiger do what other comparable bands do not. They lean on alt-country traditions and add a layer of pop jubilance that makes their folk-country rock a pleasantly danceable treat. This Seattle-based quintet also creates soothing harmonies a la Sufjan Stevens, whereas their freak folk counterparts often make discordant, if enjoyable, sounds.

Maybe because I recently started trying my hand at chess again, board tucked away since childhood battles against my father, the song “Rook and King” drew me in almost immediately. The song also rhymes “Alsatian” and “fornication,” which is somehow incredibly endearing. I should dust off my rhyming dictionary along with my pawns.

Another favorite, the seven-minute “The Most American Thing in America,” would be a perfect addition to a moody, road-trip-ready mix-tape. Admittedly, I haven’t had a tape player in my car since 2000, and even then, I was pretty old school for carting around cassettes of indie hits compiled by friends with far superior tastes. Nevertheless, epic songs make me smile, and this one is no exception. Over and over, the guys repeat, “And we won’t hold on for too long.” I’m all for closure.

On tour this spring in southern and western regions, you can catch Mighty Tiger at South By Southwest and elsewhere, with support from Grand Hallway.

Review by Brittany Shoot