Chase Coy

Posted by JAMEZ on Nov 11, 2009 in Folk, Indie, Rock | Comments Off

Expect Chase Coy to be endlessly compared to acoustic genre stalwarts such as Bright Eyes and Dashboard Confessional. Truth be known, Coy has an intimate style and soothing demeanor in his music that draws the listener in tight, making his music dramatically stand out. Look How Far We’ve Come is his third self-released effort to date, and it’s guaranteed to bring this young musician a good deal of recognition. With recordings this profound, Coy just may find his next work released on an indie label.

After a short yet poignant interlude entitled 440, the CD kicks off with Slow Down, a wistful song documenting the summer before you go off to college – a time and place of change where life can never be the same again. If The Moon Fell Down is a definitive highlight, gentle yet infectious, with a warm chorus of “I’ve must have done something right, to deserve you in my life” that audiences will surely sing along with in a live setting. The most stunning track on the CD has to be Interlude, clocking in at over 5 minutes in length – a melodious, ambitious composition of few words, containing some of the most beautifully layered work heard on an acoustic album in a very long time. The 11 track sentimental journey ends with the haunting Deathbed, a moving tribute Coy wrote about his grandmother who passed away from cancer.

At 18 years of age and with over 7 million plays on Myspace, Chase Coy is an exciting new artist that we’ll be hearing a lot more from in the future. Look How Far We’ve Come is perfect music to listen and dream to after a long, stressful day, and to many, will be sheer bliss to the ears.

Artist: Chase Coy
Album: Look How Far We’ve Come
Genre: Indie, Rock, Folk
MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/chasecoy

-Tracklist-

1. 440
2. Slow Down
3. Never Had the Courage
4. Summer’s Song
5. If the Moon Fell Down
6. Interlude
7. Mockingbird
8. My Heart Will Find Rest
9. What She’s Looking For
10. Coming Clean
11. Deathbed

Try Album [Mediafire] | Chase Coy – Look How Far We’ve Come

Matt Costa

Posted by JAMEZ on Nov 9, 2009 in Folk, Indie, Pop | Comments Off

I never really heard much of Matt Costa until last summer. At the time, the singer was nearing the homestretch of a supporting slot, along with the Animal Liberation Orchestra, for Jack Johnson. Johnson’s laidback, mellow, almost comatose approach made me believe that Costa and ALO were to be in the same vein. And while ALO had more of that vibe, Costa’s music came with a certain amount of bite or punch to it, which made it perhaps the most memorable set of the evening. Now that Costa’s signed to Johnson’s Brushfire Records, his all-important debut album hopefully contains that same oomph that would make the album start swimmingly. And fortunately it does with “Cold December”, a lovely little Paul Simon-ish song that has Costa strumming a couple of the strings from his acoustic guitar before another intricate and pretty electric guitar chimes in. And from there the percussion comes in and Costa is off to the races, galloping along to this infectious tune that takes off about a minute in. To steal a line from Costa’s lyrics in this song, it is indeed subtle and simple, but works extremely well as it changes, downshifts, and then up-shifts.

Costa’s approach touches on several great artists, whether it’s the Beatles or Fleetwood Mac. After the opening “rocker”, Costa reverts to his voice and an acoustic guitar for the pretty and simplistic singer-songwriter lullaby of “Astair” that has less in common with Jack Johnson and more in common with something Ron Sexsmith might attempt. The tune’s tenderness is also helped immensely thanks to Gabrial McNair on harpsichord. Yet as quick as he breezes through that little gem, Costa amps things up again with a catchy, nifty, smart pop nugget entitled “Sweet Thursday” that could have come out of Brendan Benson’s repertoire. The only knock against the number could be some of the guitar solos that tend to revert to something out of the ‘70s. Meanwhile, Costa has a lot of a roots-y vibe going on with the campfire-like sing along on “Sunshine”, right down to the “sha la la la la las” as Costa keeps things the tune chugging with his acoustic guitar.

That isn’t to say that everything that Costa touches turns to gold. “These Arms” is a somber, melancholic down-tempo track that has him sounding a bit like a cross between a dour Coldplay and Ed Harcourt. It looks as if it’s going to break through the surface but never does. And a few moments later, “Sweet Rose” is a clunky retro pop number that sounds as if Costa has been listening to Buddy Holly or Ricky Nelson a few too many times, even down to Holly’s trademark “hiccup” vocal trait which never should be duplicated. Fortunately, what isn’t golden doesn’t happen that often, with “Ballad Of Miss Kate” again picking up off a galloping beat that seems to fall somewhere between Fleetwood Mac and Waylon Jennings. The only thing is that it doesn’t develop a sense of urgency or intensity, just relying on and content with a toe-tapping beat, nothing more and nothing less.

For the most part, though, Costa has an ear for catching the ears of many, particularly on the lovely, terribly melodic title track that he “sings to make the day better”. Taking a bit of influence from Elliott Smith, the song sounds like something the late Smith might have done while riding around on horseback. Perhaps the most interesting song of the record is “Yellow Taxi”, which has a lot of things going on: a strumming acoustic guitar, a jazzy little bit of piano, and some haunting pedal steel for some very pleasing results. And the rousing rockabilly-tinged “Behind the Moon” songs a bit like Tom Petty circa “Yer So Bad”, only with more of a bluesy arrangement weaving its magic around it. The second-to-last number is another head-bobbing, McCartney-esque track, “Oh Dear”, that contains a subtle military backbeat while it ambles along with horns and sweet harmonies.

Artist: Matt Costa
Album: Songs We Sing
Genre: Indie / Folk / Pop
MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/mattcostamusic

- Tracklist -

1. Cold December
2. Astair
3. Sweet Thursday
4. Sunshine
5. These Arms
6. Ballad of Miss Kate
7. Sweet Rose
8. Songs We Sing
9. Yellow Taxi
10. I Tried
11. Behind the Moon
12. Oh Dear
13. Wash Away

Try Album [Mediafire] | Matt Costa – Songs We Sing

Devendra Banhart

Posted by JAMEZ on Oct 25, 2009 in Folk, Folk Rock | Comments Off

Fruit Bats

Posted by JAMEZ on Aug 23, 2009 in Folk | Comments Off

UP UNTIL last year, no one was sure if we’d ever hear from the Fruit Bats again. After stealing hearts with the 2005 release Spelled in Bones, Eric Johnson—formerly the only permanent member of the band—stepped quietly out of the spotlight and off to the side of the stage, playing wingman to myriad other acts including Vetiver and The Shins. On the mellow side as far as front men go, Johnson’s new undertakings fit him so well that it seemed more than plausible to think that he might not, in fact, ever be coming back. Yet the band’s website continued to update from time to time, rumors seeped in through the silence, and despite a near-total withdrawal from the public eye, hope began to glitter and glisten once more with the 2008 announcement that the Fruit Bats were regrouping—this time without a rotating lineup—and there would, indeed, be a much anticipated new album due out in 2009. Of course, now that the album is finally here, the million-dollar question quickly follows: does The Ruminant Band live up to the expectation?

The answer depends largely on the expectation. If fans are looking to take a trip down a Mouthfuls memory lane, then you’d best unpack your bags, sit back down, wait another four years and see what happens. If you’d rather the luscious romance of Spelled in Bones, then I’m afraid you’ll also find this release a little lacking. If, on the other hand, you’re willing to step outside of the comfort zone Johnson created with his last two efforts, if you’ll bend the rules in favor of production, percussion, and electric guitars, then The Ruminant Band is exactly the release we’ve been waiting for these four quiet years.That we‘re in for something completely new is apparent from the beginning. “Primitive Man,” the album’s opening track, delivers unexpected timpani, three levels of rhythm guitar (acoustic, clean, mild gain) and a lap-steel/pedal-steel bridge duet with leads to follow, all without sacrificing the band’s signature syncopation (believe it or not, it actually gets better here), driving acoustics, and picturesque poetry.

But the differences aren’t the same across the board. The reverb-heavy “Hobo Girl” delivers a hint of ragtime mixed with old-fashioned country and a barroom chorale, while “Being On Our Own” continues to play with steel leads. “Singing Joy to the World” dabbles in at least three time signatures, two of which are relatively unorthodox, especially for a band whose earlier works might unfairly make them look like amateur musicians.

In light of these differences, though, the band hasn’t left itself behind. For listeners who desperately need to have some of that acoustic Fruit Bats bittersweet, there’s “Beautiful Morning Light,” a folk love song recalling innocence and a simple, quiet peace—the sort of romance that caused us to fall for Johnson’s music in the first place. And while “Singing Joy to the World” takes the atypical Fruit Bats approach of telling what sounds like someone else’s story, the off-beats and gentle acoustics recall the soothing tones of much of their earlier work.

The advancement of Johnson‘s musical prowess, however, is not the only thing that deserves credit for the change in the band‘s sound. Equally worthy of praise is producer Graeme Gibson (Califone, Joan of Arc, among others) who played drums on the album in addition to lending his mastering skills. Between experimenting with various percussion and reverb effects previously foreign to the band’s sound and mixing the vocals deeper into the music, Gibson’s production seems to be the driving force behind the album’s robust flavor, bringing Fruit Bats to a level of psychotropic vibrance where Johnson‘s lyrics have always lived, but where the sound rarely went to visit.

The irony, though, is that the vocals are the only component of Ruminant Band to have suffered from Gibson’s mix. Front to back, Johnson’s voice is saturated in reverb, drowning enough of the already-suboptimal enunciation to effectively steal some of the lyrical wind. For example, the title-track single starts as what appears to be a modern day example of the perfect classic rock tune: after launching into a tambourine-driven intro, it delivers complimentary walk-down licks in conjunction with an overdrive-heavy solo, topped off with words you couldn’t understand if the futures of ripped jeans and magic mushrooms were at stake. The difference is that classic rock bands could get away with muddled lyrics because they rarely had anything profound to say in the first place; the Bats have a higher calling, and one that leads to a universal expectation from fans: we want to hear what Johnson has to say.

Despite not being able to understand every lyric uttered, what is perhaps most striking about The Ruminant Band is the genuine happiness it evokes. True, the Fruit Bats have always been known for brighter tones and major keys, but while most of their previous material maintained an underlying melancholy, this record does nothing of the kind. Take the closing track, “Flamingo,” a nostalgia-inducing tune complete with record scratches and that feeling of being the last man sipping bourbon in an old saloon. While lyrics like, “The place where I was born is a vague memory/Like the flakes of snow in the broke-down TV” connote sadness, perhaps even depression, the song’s tone doesn’t let us sink to anything below distantly wistful. In a subtle, cozy sort of way, it not only makes you want to be that guy in the saloon, but it even gives the impression that to do so might actually be fun.

There is hardly a thing worth complaining about on this record. It continues in the band’s tradition of both capitalizing on their potential as well as pushing the boundaries of their musical comfort zone. In an industry climate where artists are played up as quickly as they’re played out, the Fruit Bats remain unfailingly dedicated to sustenance, survival, and best of all, making their audiences smile.

-  Review By Josh Cacopardo of Patrol Magazine

Artist: Fruit Bats

Album: The Ruminant Band [2009]

Genre: Folk Rock / Visual / Other

MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/thefruitbats

-Track List-

1. Primitive Man
2. The Ruminant Band
3. Tegucigalpa
4. Beautiful Morning Light
5. The Hobo Girl
6. Being on Our Own
7. My Unusual Friend
8. Singing Joy to the World
9. The Blessed Breeze
10. Feather Bed
11. Flamingo

The Snake The Cross The Crown

Posted by JAMEZ on Aug 21, 2009 in Folk | Comments Off

The best parts about life are the little things, the tiny surprises that make your day just a touch better. Free ice cream, an old friend calling to say hello, a darkly endearing band from Alabama. Okay, that last one sounded out of place, but give me a chance to explain myself. The Snake The Cross The Crown, a genre-bending collective from Alabama, has gifted us with a Mander Salis, a southern hurricane of wonderfully haunting vocals and gloomy instrumentation.
Going into this review, I was free of expectations. Beyond vaguely hearing of a distant EP, the name The Snake The Cross The Crown had never crossed my mind. A friend of mine mentioned them to me in passing, but I paid no heed. So, when I finally picked this album up to give it an appreciative listen, nothing really significant registered. It was decent, I supposed, but nothing to get overly excited about. How wrong I was. Mander Salis is one of those slow-growing albums, a piece of work that you ignore or dismiss at first, but one that also gradually and permanently grafts you to its pleasure-inducing sonic vibrations.

The first thing that grabbed me about this album was the vocals. With three distinct vocalists, influences range from Pedro the Lion to Rufus Wainwright to an overwhelmingly unavoidable likeness to Francis Healy of Travis. Similar though they may be, The Snake The Cross The Crown manages to construct a unique blend of vocal stylings. Just listen to the three-part layering of voice on the opening track, “An Honest Misappropriation of Funds,” and the skill is evident. Somehow, The Snake The Cross The Crown manages to pack an entire choir into their three singers, while avoiding a busy or raucous sound. Even when all three sing separate parts at once, the harmonic effect is awe-inspiring rather than muddled.
The music, while equally layered, is significantly less angelic. In fact, part of Mander Salis’ draw is its juxtaposition of the yin and yang of its melody and vocals. The guitar, particularly on “Empires” and “The Fields of Ius,” are reminiscent of a dreary limbo, an afterlife of timeless stagnation, while the chorus of voices evoke images of peaceful rest and joy. It’s an appropriate comparison, especially when considered in the context of the album. Mander Salis, with song titles such as “The Gates of Dis” and “On The Threshold of Eternity” is a soundtrack to the world beyond the pale. It’s an emotional journey for the listener, but a satisfying conclusion awaits.
The Snake The Cross The Crown is a pleasant surprise for me. While it may not come in a cone or on the phone, Mander Salis is a pleasantly-addicting example of musical purgatory, with soaring aspirations mixed with bitter regrets. Whether you’re looking for a glimpse into the musical afterlife, or simply searching for the next band to fall in love with, The Snake The Cross The Crown doesn’t disappoint. Just make sure you get that ice cream, too. Oh, and don’t forget to give your friend a call back.

Review By The Bad Doctor of Rainydawg.org

Artist: The Snake The Cross The Crown

Album: Discography

Genre: Americana / Folk / Indie

MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/snakecrosscrown

-Album List-

Hermit Thrushes

Posted by JAMEZ on Jul 14, 2009 in Experimental, Folk, Thrash | Comments Off

Slight Fountain occupies a dubious middle ground. It’s a pop album that leans heavily on the kind of queasy, off-kilter melodies and unpredictable chord progressions championed by David Longstreth of Dirty Projectors, but it arranges those elements into a collection of songs infinitely more accessible than anything off The Getty Address or Rise Above. While I have a lot of respect for Longstreth and the madman stuff he does with melody, the group doesn’t — at the risk of unironically echoing Stephen Colbert — speak to my gut. In a way, the (comparatively) straightforward nature of singer/songwriter Yianni Kourmadas’s compositions exacerbates my feeling of disconnection with his take on DP’s aesthetic. He, in essence, appropriates a style of music I already find emotionally alienating and further strips away much of its headiness and complexity. He does what Longstreth does, only not quite as well.

This is not to say that there aren’t interesting things happening from song to song. Take “Snowflake Heart” as an example. It opens with the halting thump of the bass drum, pounding in time with an awkward progression of acoustic guitar chords and a staccato vocal harmony in falsetto. Then, all the backing elements drop away at the verse, leaving Kourmadas to sing over a bare-bones guitar accompaniment. Following the chorus, the guitar is joined by the bass and drum, with the addition of a ringing trumpet. It’s as pure an example of Hermit Thrush’s ambitious song dynamics as I could hope to find.

Unfortunately, the pleasures gained from such excursions feel largely academic. This is due, in no small part, to Kourmadas’s total non-presence as a singer. He offers a breathy, muttered vocal performance reminiscent of Mount Eerie’s Phil Elverum, if Elverum didn’t really give a shit about what he was singing. The lyrics themselves don’t do much to help the situation. On the page, they read like especially cryptic haiku. Yet for all of their mysteriousness, the songs conjure little in the way of evocative or memorable imagery.

For as many risks as Hermit Thrushes take, I can’t help but walk away from Slight Fountain thinking that I’ve heard it before. Maybe the band would be better off exploring more conventional melodies. The most vital-sounding and memorable track on the album for me is “Ceci,” a song that relies less on peculiar sounds or jarring melodic shifts and more on instrumental interplay and subtle changes in tempo. It sounds almost like a late-90s Built to Spill composition condensed to its most essential elements. This song, at least, sounds like a song and not merely an intellectual exercise. And if “Ceci” is less ambitious than the rest of Slight Fountain, consider this: the song is no more derivative than anything else Hermit Thrushes have to offer this time around.

Review By TinyMixTapes

Artist: Hermit Thrushes

Album: Silent Fountain [2009]

Genre: Thrash / Folk / Experimental

MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/hermitthrushes

-Track List-

1. An Oil Fruit
2. Snowflake Heart
3. Ceci
4. Push
5. Golden Wounds
6. Broken Adze
7. Song From Boat
8. Black Cat
9. Older Trees
10. Headless
11. Found House
12. Gooseneck
13. Perla
14. A Good Dream

Try Album [Mediafire] | Hermit Thrushes – Slight Fountain