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The music industry has a funny way of rooting out irrelevancy after a short period of time. One-hit wonders occasionally pop up on VH1 or the occasional radio station, but there is little veneration for artists that do not show an ability to make their work either enduring or consistent. Many artists these days are lucky to remain in the spotlight two years after their peak of recognition. And even if they still maintain a following, most of them can be found touring tirelessly and playing fan favorites in order to keep their fan base and themselves afloat. Jarvis Cocker and Steve Albini are both names that seem synonymous with the ‘90s, one as a musician and the other as a producer. They also serve as one of the rare cases of enduring recognition among music figures that were active in the ‘80s and ‘90s; Cocker was one of the integral figures of the vital Brit-pop movement in the mid-‘90s with Pulp, and Albini has produced dozens of classic albums by artists that include Nirvana, the Pixies, and the Auteurs. That Cocker and Albini will always receive royalty checks and festival invitations is irrelevant to their current standing though, as they have both shown no urge to settle down and cease their level of production. Cocker jumped right into a solo career after Pulp was put on hiatus in 2001 and Albini has averaged producing dozens of albums each and every year; it is simply indication of their shared commitment to music, which is an appreciation that fame has taken away from many artists.

Considering their similar musical ideologies and years of experience, one would assume that collaboration between Cocker and Albini would be ideal. Sure, Cocker’s fashionably witty Brit-pop is not the usual, gritty style of rock that Albini is accustomed to, but he has proven himself to be an eclectic producer on more than one occasion with a diverse resume that includes albums by Low, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, and Smog. Also, his excellent work with Plush does not stray far from Cocker’s stylistic territory, as it features sweeping orchestral arrangements over deeply reverberating British vocals that tend to subtly incorporate more pop elements than anything else. 2008’s Pitchfork Music Festival was the meeting point for Cocker and Albini, with the two finding common ground immediately due to their plethora of experience. The duo headed to Albini’s Electrical Audio recording studio and began work on what would be Cocker’s second solo album, Further Complications. Predicting what this one would sound like before its release was a common practice despite the fact that Cocker has held a consistent style throughout his entire career. If anyone were to adapt to a new style, one would assume that it would be Albini as the producer, right? Surprisingly, Cocker is the one who appears to have adapted more to Albini’s guitar-based approach, rather than vice versa. Consequently, the album is filled with gems and miscues that appear to sway dramatically either way, which unfortunately enables the album to lag behind Cocker’s other material due to his previously accustomed consistency.

The collaboration between Cocker and Albini on Cocker’s second solo album, Further Complications, is reminiscent of another interesting one-album partnership that took place in the summer of 1977. When Leonard Cohen and Phil Spector came together for Death of a Ladies’ Man, it marked the partnership between one of the greatest songwriters of the era and a producer whose reputation within his occupation was practically unmatched at the time. The result, as most critics agree today, was hardly a disaster and featured a handful of great songs, but Spector’s producer role actually ended up becoming too influential on the album’s sound. Cohen had an individualistic style with his poetic lyrical approach and minimalistic musical content that was true to his own persona. Spector sacrificed Cohen’s trademark ability for a sound that was more depictive of his own interpretation of success, which was his densely layered “Wall of Sound.” In a few decades or so, after Cocker gets properly recognized as one of the most important songwriters of the ‘90s, the analysis of Further Complications may be resoundingly similar. Albini’s strengths are occasionally Cocker’s weaknesses, as one of Cocker’s appeals has derived from idiosyncratic lyrics that were simultaneously witty, erotic, and analytical. His music – a flashy display of glam, Brit-rock, and synth-pop – supplemented the approach well with its ardent flexibility, making this transition to a harder vein of rock on Further Complications very suggestive.

The title track alone is indicative of Cocker’s somewhat awkward transition into heavier material. Clouded in a haze of distortion, a repetitive electric guitar rings out menacingly as Cocker emits his familiar swagger. The straightforward guitar riff and basic rhythm section are fun the first time around, but the lack of intricacy or even a decent hook makes concentrating almost a chore. The chorus is simply a slight variation of the chorus with some ooh-ing and ahh-ing in the background, providing little reason to listen beyond the first or second chorus. Cocker’s vocals are flamboyantly exceptional as usual, but there is little to supplement his lovable demeanor here. “Angela” suffers similarly, regurgitating a similar song structure with a lack of variation that eventually sounds more discordant than captivating or angsty, as was the probable intent. The difference between songs like “Further Complications”, “Angela”, and the monotonous “Fuckingsong” to previous hard-rocking Cocker solo efforts like “Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time” and “Fat Children” is the lack of melodic sustainability and lyrical wit. The lyrics, structure, and musical content contain no surprise or durability; these songs play more with the audible emission of angst than anything else, lacking substance in all the necessary places. Cocker has always been a songwriter who has been receptive toward mood as much as lyrical content and instrumentation, so lackluster efforts like these should come as a surprise to any fan of Pulp. While fun for the first few go-arounds, even the two instrumentals in the psychedelic “Pilchard” and brassy “Homewrecker!” lose their appeal due to an overemphasis on one singular style or structural theme. Even if we were to push comparisons to Pulp aside, there is no denying that some of the songwriting here is lazy.

Fortunately for the album, it would be hard for a leading man of Cocker’s caliber to create a complete disaster. In fact, once some of the clutter is pushed aside, Further Complications actually boasts one of the best songs Cocker has released to date in the infectious “I Never Said I Was Deep.” This is where the Cocker-Albini collaboration shines with the trickling guitars, sporadic keys, and bursts of brass. The songwriting is exceptional as well, plying on a chorus that separates itself distinctively and a verse that develops throughout with precise additions on both an instrumental and lyrical front. Cocker’s lyrics are introspective, satirizing the romanticized sensitivity of songwriters in humorously invigorating form. When he proclaims the song’s title during the exceptional chorus, it becomes apparent that this is one of Cocker’s best, including both his solo work and with Pulp. The eight-minute “You’re In My Eyes (Discosong)” is also notable for its insatiable melody and stylistically precise build-up, hearkening back to Pulp’s enjoyable fascination with funk and disco as displayed on tracks like “F.E.E.L.I.N.G. C.A.L.L.E.D. L.O.V.E.” “Hold Still” salvages the album as well due to emphasis on Cocker’s lyrical imagery, a skill that has not faded even slightly since his days with Pulp. The problem with nearly half of Further Complications is that Cocker’s delivery seems too forced as he relies on forcedly volatile distortion and repetition more than memorable melodies and interweaving song structures, which is in stark contrast to his previous material. Further Complications stands out decently enough on its own, but for Cocker it is a disappointment considering the past quality of his releases. 6.5/10

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Jarvis Cocker - I Never Said I Was Deep

Download audio file (jcoc-ine.mp3)

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Jarvis Cocker - Hold Still

Download audio file (jcoc-hol.mp3)

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Belle & Sebastian have always been one of the finest examples of how simplicity and intricacy are not exclusive entities in music. The Glasgow-based group’s melodies have always been extremely accessible; the arrangements feature consuming assortments of keys and orchestral elements that are smoothly integrated under Stuart Murdoch’s wistful, choir boy-like vocals. His delivery is filled with a harmonically satisfying touch of innocence, making his elaborate lyrical content catch many first-time listeners off guard when they come to expect stories of generic romance. Murdoch’s accessible exterior is upheld by a thought-provoking interior that has done extraordinary justice on the common perception of Belle & Sebastian. Murdoch is a gifted songwriter and most of his content exceeds indie-pop contemporaries by a long mile, but it is his subtle ambition that has made Belle & Sebastian one of the most recognizable groups of the indie-pop era. Murdoch’s touches of conceptual and metaphorical brilliance within an instantaneously accessible vein of pop music has earned them rampant comparisons to Simon & Garfunkel. They were responsible for bringing an accessible but poetically invigorating form of folk-rock to the masses in the late ‘60s, and Belle & Sebastian did similarly in the late ‘90s with their blissful interpretation of indie-pop. Their success has continued this decade, and a new project from Murdoch is further indication of his willingness to fuse a simple concept with enjoyable intricacies that are quite easy to overlook.

It is almost painful for music fans to recognize that there are thousands of songs written by legendary artists that will never be uncovered, all because the artist deemed the material not suitable enough for a certain album or style that was synonymous with them or their label. Murdoch has released seven albums and numerous EPs since 1996, so his work ethic is of no question. It also means that, like many other musicians, he likely has a bunch of songs lying around that will never see the light of day. Belle & Sebastian’s remarkable consistency shows that they comprehend quality though, so I doubt Murdoch could go without releasing something worthwhile if he has it on his shelf. Murdoch revealed his initial intentions surrounding his new project, God Help the Girl, in August 2007, stating in a blog entry that he was looking for three vocalists (two girls, one guy) to help him with it. Contestants submitted a self-portrait and a recording of their vocals over instrumental versions of two Belle & Sebastian songs, “Funny Little Frog” and “The Psychiatrist Is In.” Belle & Sebastian are typically seen as rather low-key in their recording methods, rarely reaching for the grandiose or overly spectacular. But this method, while different, coincides with the group’s personable music in that they do not need big names to achieve success. In fact, one of the main stars on God Help the Girl is making her first major appearance.

For God Help the Girl, the style of music may be a tinge different, but the level of quality remains the same. The official web site coins God Help the Girl as a mixture of “musicals, sixties’ girl groups, eighties’ indie and, most of all, classic pop records.” The charm of Murdoch’s songwriting and the Belle & Sebastian band’s background instrumentation is familiar and constantly refreshing, but the additional emphasis on the girl-group pop ideology provides a fascinating flux toward Murdoch’s chirpy indie-pop or acoustical tales. Catherine Ireton won the user-submitted grand prize and is the lead vocalist on most of the project’s album, presenting an extremely powerful voice that is ardent enough to fit both in the girl groups of the ‘60s and the fashionable indie-rock of the ‘80s. If her voice sounds familiar to Belle & Sebastian fans then that is because she provided backing vocals on The Life Pursuit’s “White Collar Boy.” It is not all Ireton and Murdoch on the album though, as Belle & Sebastian’s fame has admittedly awarded them with some privileges. A 45-piece orchestra directed by Rick Wentworth (Withnail & I) appears throughout the album, and The Divine Comedy’s Neil Hannon lends his orchestral-pop chops on the highly amusing “Perfection as a Hipster.” Hannon and Murdoch, both brilliant songwriters in their own right, provide for a fantastic collaboration that capitalizes on both of their oddball pop appeal. In addition to the excellent collection of songs on God Help the Girl, it eludes to several potential collaborative successes; Hannon-Murdoch, Murdoch-Ireton, and even Hannon-Ireton (as shown on “Perfection as Hipster”) are all successful collaborations, which serves appropriate on an album that shows collaboration as an excellent practice when under the watchful eyes of someone as talented as Murdoch.

In regard to the correspondence between Murdoch, Ireton, and their shared girl-group fetish, the self-titled track plays with the clichés of girl groups while maintaining originality, modernistic relevance, and the majestic pop songwriting that one could come to expect on any great Belle & Sebastian album. “There is no way I’m looking for a boyfriend,” Ireton begins the track, her vocals prominent over a poppy bass line and a combination of subdued guitars and keys. In typical ‘60s pop fashion, the strings kick in during the chorus as Ireton unveils the song’s hook in excellent fashion. The lyrical content is more straightforward than one would expect from Murdoch, but one has to keep in mind the track’s resemblance to girl-group pop. If there were any interpretable tangents, it would have been a detriment. Also, since God Help the Girl is designed to serve as the basis and soundtrack for a Murdoch-written movie by the same name, one would have to assume that all the content is precisely crafted here. The film starts production in 2010 and though no one can say for sure whether it will be good or not, the one certainty is that the film’s soundtrack will be great.

“Musicians, Please Take Heed” is another stroke of excellence, being more brooding and developmental than most of the tracks on the album. The transition in mood is reminiscent of how The Shangri-Las were able to infuse a girl-group delivery into songs that were bleaker than the ‘60s pop stereotype suggests. The elaborate explanation of hallucinogens and drug-induced hallucinations is more indicative of Murdoch’s usual intricacies here, and the sweeping strings over the steady woodwinds and brisk bass line provide excellent support for a track that serves as one of the biggest stylistic successes on the album. Upon my first several listens though, God Help the Girl shows that it certainly has what it takes to rank among Belle & Sebastian’s finest material, even if Murdoch claims it too be different from his usual material. Regardless, it succeeds tremendously and echoes the similar sentiments of consistency, melodic appeal, and replay-ability that have made Belle & Sebastian household names in indie-pop. If one is a fan of either girl groups or Belle & Sebastian, this one is definitely worth picking up when it is released on June 22nd. And if you are a fan of both, this may end up being one of your yearly favorites.

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God Help the Girl - God Help the Girl

Download audio file (ghelp-god.mp3)

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God Help the Girl - Musicians, Please Take Heed

Download audio file (ghelp-mus.mp3)

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God Help the Girl - Perfection as a Hipster

Download audio file (ghelp-per.mp3)

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Official Web Site

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Matador Records

With the ample amount of Swedish artists featured on this site and other music blogs, I would not be surprised if many of you have developed an indifference to the allure of a foreign musical product. Exotic originations often make any topic at least slightly more fascinating, but it has come to a point where I am featuring nearly as many Swedish artists as American or British artists. I aim to expose quality though, so the country of origin is irrelevant when I listen to an artist. However, whatever appeal is derived from the foreign and unknown may be lost for Sweden. It does not require such extraneous allures though, so I doubt that such outlooks will hinder the country’s production of quality music. What continues to amaze me is how so much quality material is derived from a country with a population of under ten million people. Although the census would never implement such a statistic, the percentage of successful musicians out of Sweden’s overall population likely eclipses all other countries significantly. A fantastic arts program and a rich musical history are a few reasons for Sweden’s astounding musical success, but it is the shared interest in music among Sweden’s population that is truly the cause for such consistent imported quality. A love for music practically seems unavoidable since running into a performer, producer, or songwriter in Sweden is going to happen eventually, probably more times than one.

The high number of musicians per every hundred miles or so in Sweden has affected two things most prominently: the public perception of music-related occupations and the accessibility of the entire scene in general. The latter is evident in the talented Anna Järvinen, a Swedish songwriter and chanteuse who is finding success through the seamlessness of collaborating with other artists and producers in Sweden. Well, her undeniable talent also plays a large role, but she certainly is indebted to the ample number of musicians in Sweden that are happy to lend a hand to someone with talent and artistic vision. For her debut album, Jag Fick Feeling, she attracted a prominent Swedish name with her talent and ardent pop-based delivery. Mattias Glavå has proven himself to be a great judge of talent before, as he produced Håkan Hellström’s debut album, Känn Ingen Sorg för Mig Göteborg, in 2000. As many fans of Swedish pop know, Hellström is now a household name and his enthusiastically eccentric vein of pop music has attracted success both in Sweden and overseas. Like Hellström, Järvinen honed her experience as the lead songwriter in a rock group (Granada) before undertaking a solo career. Hellström’s Broder Daniel achieved significantly more recognition than Järvinen’s Granada, but they both paid off similarly in providing the artist with the background, experience, and commitment necessary to construct a solo career. Also like her native contemporary, Järvinen’s true talent has begun to shine its brightest with the commencement of her solo career.

Although it did not make a big splash in the US or UK outside of the blogosphere, Jag Fick Feeling provided Järvinen with what she needed to become a recognizable name in Sweden. A Swedish Grammy nomination and winning the Stockholm City’s music prize certainly helped as well, setting Jag Fick Feeling up for ample exposure and consequential anticipation for Järvinen’s next release. There were never any questions about her ability, but some wondered how she would respond to a different producer after Glavå left the project. Well, I suppose it did not hurt to get one of the most talented artists in Sweden to produce her second album then, did it? Gustav Ejstes, the man behind Dungen, became interested in the project after hearing Järvinen’s debut. “Nobody has, like Gustav, silently and immediately understood my music,” she told a Swedish magazine. “I wanted to try and leave the songs with him so he could put his mark on and in them.” Ejstes is one of several Swedish artists that are very recognizable in the US and beyond, so his reputation will likely bring Järvinen some international attention upon the release of her second album, Man Var Bland Molnen (“One Was Among the Clouds”). Even more importantly, Ejstes’ eclectic production proves aptly fitting for Järvinen’s broadly classifiable interpretation of pop music.

Behind Järvinen’s angelic voice and soft-spoken demeanor lies a tactful talent for songwriting and stylistic ambition that surpasses many of her Swedish contemporaries, which is a bold statement considering the amount of talent that the Nordic country produces on a regular basis. Her mixture of orchestral chamber-pop, piano-laden ballads, and occasional guitar-based rockers should sound familiar to fans of Swedish pop, but it is the consistency of songs within this schematic that sets up Järvinen for success. The opening “Låt Det Dö” uses the traditional Swedish-pop assortment of twinkling keys, sporadic string arrangements, and backing vocal harmonies to establish a great introduction to her approach. The novelty here is enduring, as Järvinen’s voice has the same delicate approach as Lykke Li and it stands out well over the melodically concise guitar licks and abundance of hooks. Although faster-paced, “Här Är Du Ett Hån” is similar in its approach with its dependence on keys, occasional guitar licks, and backing vocal harmonies. Ejstes’ presence is certainly evident in the uses of guitar on “Låt Det Dö” and “Här Är Du Ett Hån”, as they fit unconventionally within a flurry of keys and strings and somehow end up sounding absolutely brilliant.

“Är Det Det Här Det Hela Handlar Om?” shows Järvinen’s edgier side with fuzzier guitars and a more intricate rhythm section, and it succeeds despite taking too long to execute some sort of melodic or instrumental variation, which is only present after three minutes or so. Once it arrives though, the hooks are led solely by a rhythm section that should wow listeners in its excellence and precision. “Boulevarden” is an excellent ballad that builds upon a light piano progression to eventually result in accompaniments by strings, bass, and percussion. The frail beauty of the track is apparent from the get-go as Järvinen quivers as a low string accompaniment subtly enters the picture. Each verse is supplemented by something new, whether it is a clever detraction or a beneficial addition. When the bass line emerges over Järvinen’s vocals and a light acoustic guitar clears the way for budding percussion, “Boulevarden” establishes itself as one of the finest efforts on an album that achieves more than just accustomed Swedish-pop excellence. Man Var Bland Molnen is an effort that transcends many limitations of pop music due to Järvinen astute grasp of orchestral accompaniment, heartfelt balladry, and even some rock ‘n’ roll.

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Anna Järvinen - Låt Det Dö

Download audio file (ajarv-lat.mp3)

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Anna Järvinen - Boulevarden

Download audio file (ajarv-bou.mp3)

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Anna Järvinen - Här Är Du Ett Hån

Download audio file (ajarv-har.mp3)

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Häpna Records

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When Burial emerged in 2006 with his self-titled debut album, the attention appeared to be split between the excellent content on the album and the persona of the artist who crafted it. Despite glowing reviews, the figure behind Burial never provided background, interviews, or even a photo indicating their existence. For all listeners could have known, Burial could have been made by a robot. But even if the ingenious sampling and haunting allure of the dubstep release sounded more reminiscent of otherworldly beings or intelligent robotics, the emotions that the album infused left traces of human ardency that gave the elusive figure behind Burial an even more prominent sense of ambiguity. When Burial’s second album, Untrue, was released a year later to eventually become one of the best-reviewed albums of 2007, the elusiveness continued to hang over the project even more prevalently. As Burial’s prominence grew, audiences began to grow frustrated at the lack of identity. But this contributed to the music’s allure, as many fans of Jandek could likely tell you. For Burial specifically, his modernistic take on dubstep aptly fit this mysterious demeanor. Heavily reverbed vocal samples played like the echoes of ghosts, while frantic percussion created a sense of anxiousness that juxtaposed itself brilliantly over eerie samples and calming synth pads.

When you combine Burial’s stylistic demeanor with his elusive persona, it seems as if both are partners in an elaborate scheme for the utmost musical compatibility. This compatibility happens to contribute to the acclaim and consequential recognition of the material, as the ambiguity and lack of non-musical information leaves nothing but the music as the means for recognition. Electronic music appears as the genre that most seamlessly integrates itself in this approach, as the material is often rooted in more individualistic methods than other genres like hip-hop or conventional pop music. There are an abundance of overly flamboyant artists in electronic music (look to the ‘80s), and resisting the urge to make one’s personality as prominent as their music can actually prove beneficial in this case. The man behind Burial eventually revealed his name, but William Bevan remains as low-key as before. He claims to be a person who simply values privacy, but to his benefit such ambiguity contributes immensely to the effectiveness of his music. Neon Indian are a very young duo, but it is apparent already that they may benefit from the same sense of elusiveness that proves effective for music in a creatively electronic vein.

Little is known about Neon Indian, but imminent recognition will certainly play a role in whether or not that will stay the same. An anonymous male and female from the respective locations of Austin, Texas and Brooklyn, New York comprise Neon Indian, but little is known about their personal identities apart from the fact that the guy is a musician and the girl is a video artist. Their picture-less, video-less appearance online disallows me from viewing any of their video aspects, but their inventive music clearly shows that video compatibility should be excellent when implemented. The reason for this is the atmospheric ability that the group conveys, evident a style that strays on the borders of dream-pop, italo-disco, and psychedelic electronica without fully committing itself to one specific niche. The approach is consistent throughout their debut EP, Psychic Chasms, though and results in one of the most promising releases of the year. In addition to using sparkling synths and hazily reverbed vocals to construct their style, they hold something in common with Sweden’s Air France. They released an EP, No Way Down, in 2008 that brought their radiant electronica to the masses due to widespread acclaim. Psychic Chasms is nearly identical in length and overall quality, providing listeners with a sample that should have them excited for the duo’s promising future.

Critics can be an unpredictable group of people due to the value of opinion in art, but I would be shocked if Psychic Chasms does not attract the same sort of attention that artists like Air France and Wavves have garnered in the past year. “6669 (I Don’t Know If You Know)” shows how their music is both innovative and accessible, blending in varying elements of pop and electronic. The vibrato-led bass line is reminiscent of italo-disco and dance, but the fusion of wavering synths and tranquil vocal melodies appears more indicative of dream-pop or even shoegaze despite its technological origins. The beauty of this track arises in its multiple layers, as they accentuate one another beautifully with a blissful style of production that capitalizes on the consuming flexibility of synthesizers while maintaining a lo-fi quality that it not hindered by forceful or overly elaborate components. Also, be warned: headphones or a good sound system should be used here. Enjoying the subtle bass line around 01:15 would be difficult otherwise, and it is in subtleties like this where the album reaches nearly incomparable heights.

“Local Joke” plays more with the clashing of glam and dance that others like MGMT have found success in recently, but Neon Indian’s inventive ability remains prevalent with the structural evolution that takes place throughout the song. “Deadbeat Summer” tactfully avoids repetition with the creative accentuation of a driving core beat, with a chorus that blissfully loses itself in the whirring of electric guitar licks as the vocals profess that “it’s just a deadbeat summer.” It is likely not for the case for this excellent new duo, as the release of Psychic Chasms should almost certainly show its appeal to the masses by then. Though Psychic Chasms is barely 18 minutes long, it shows enough to provide Neon Indian with the credibility they need to get their music deservingly exposed to an audience that does not have to work hard to enjoy it. This is the type of stuff that consumes and rewards the listener effortlessly.

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Neon Indian - 6669 (I Don’t Know If You Know)

Download audio file (nindi-666.mp3)

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Neon Indian - Deadbeat Summer

Download audio file (nindi-dea.mp3)

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Neon Indian - Local Joke

Download audio file (nindi-loc.mp3)

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Even though it sounds painstakingly obvious, a great album must have something that appeals to the listener it so desires to captivate. Whether it has to do with the listener’s stylistic preference or simply some great songwriting on the artist’s part, the definition of a “classic album” encompasses characteristics that are universally receptive enough to result in a consensus that classifies that album as enduring, worthwhile, and groundbreaking in some form. One’s favorite album can alternate every few days or so and erratic taste certainly plays a large role in this classification, but most albums that are regarded as classics do not appeal to everyone. It is not that they contain major flaws, but everyone’s tastes are different and these varying tastes have an undeniable  impact on our personal perception of music, film, or any form of classics in art. Classics tend to have a universal conception among fans and experts alike though. A fan of strictly contemporary hip-hop may not carry even a single Beatles album on their iPod and it should not matter because everyone’s tastes are different, but if that person attempts to discredit something like The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and its influence and tactical brilliance, then fan-based chaos would easily ensue. Albums like these have a legacy to them that is indescribable in words; the music does the talking and people listen. If there was one common aspect about albums that are generally classified as masterpieces though, I assume it would be the ability of listeners to relate their own lives to the music, whether it is through the melodies, lyrical content, artwork, or all of them combined.

The debut release from Delay Trees boasts more than some attractive artwork. Apart from the excellent music (which I’ll get to in a bit) on Soft Construction EP, the Finnish four-piece have implemented an artistic component that reveals itself as both nostalgic and personally relatable even before one pops their disc in the stereo for the first time. Rami Vierula, the band’s songwriter and creative force, compiled photos from his family albums and decided to share a piece of his personal life with the listener; it is a technique that works very well with a sound that recalls the broodingly realistic fables told in shimmering ‘80s post-punk and the instrumental expansiveness present in contemporary indie-rock. Most of the photos consist of landscapes, but the shot behind the lyrics for “About Brothers” features a bunch of young males on a summer day with smiles that keenly express the carefree indulgences of youth. I cannot accurately say what the photo has in relation to Vierula’s personal life, but the song clearly is about the feelings of brothers that have drifted apart after childhood due to conventional excuses like marriage and conflicting interests. “I’m loving a robot – my brother has turned to steel,” Vierula sings over an enriching display of sporadic keys and distorted guitars. He likens robotic love to the childhood nostalgia of Japanese anime in the first verse, and in doing so establishes a direct relationship with his childhood self. Subsequently, when the track ends with a reaffirmation of an undying sense of familial love, the visible transition that Vierula made from childhood to adulthood is prevalent.

This correlation between artwork, lyrical content, and instrumentation is what makes Soft Construction EP so effective. The fact that it accomplishes this while being the first-ever release from this Finnish four-piece is impressive in itself, but the EP’s indication of what’s to come from Delay Trees serves as a hefty display of their songwriting ability, instrumental prowess, and thematic effectiveness. Vierula’s lyrics are often vague, using an assortment of hypothetical questions to construct a theme that does not come into focus until a song’s end. The slick “Moving” follows “About Brothers”, an appropriate transition considering the unified theme of both tracks. Like the eroding relationship between brothers in the latter, “Moving” capitalizes on the concept of time as an unparalleled force that can be the heaviest and most dramatic wrecking ball in destroying the stability of relationships. “I don’t want to see the time when I’ve lost my inner child along with my destinations,” Vierula sings in the first verse. Already, the longing for childhood and the yearning for experience is comparably balanced to that of “About Brothers.” A bouncy rhythm section gets this track going, as a series of guitar alternate between arpeggios and chordal accompaniments as Vierula works toward the eventual chorus. Vierula’s vocals recall those of Voxtrot’s Ramesh Srivastava with its light and airy demeanor, and the support of breezy melodies complement it beautifully. Their vein of indie-pop remains comparable to contemporaries like Voxtrot and The Shins, but a continued emphasis on ‘80s post-punk remains noticeable enough to make Delay Trees’ sound unique enough to shine.

The aptly titled “Coral Wind” serves as one of the mellower efforts on the album, in addition to the balmy, guitar-based beachside allure of “Replay.” The desperation for victory and fulfilled expectations stimulates “Coral Wind” and the collaborative effort between guitar arpeggios, chirpy reverb, and reverb that finds an enjoyable mid-point between psychedelia and surf-rock that eventually becomes prominent. The four-piece has a tendency for using bell-like keys to accentuate newly presented melodies, and “Coral Wind” is one of the finest examples with Vierula’s ooh-ing and aah-ing flourishing behind a series of acoustics, keys, and electric guitars. “Resurrection of Sonic Blue” hearkens back to David Axelrod with a bit of post-rock in the vein of Mogwai thrown in; it differs dramatically from all the other tracks on the EP, but does an excellent job of displaying both Vierula’s ability as a songwriter and the band’s cumulative sense of harmonic cohesiveness. “Tarantula / Holding On” shows how Delay Trees never appear to make one instrument overly prominent in a final mix, as the build-up here is presented in a way that sees each instrument gradually add on its unique tone and melodic progression to result in a grandiose conclusion that occurs during the concluding minute. I am shocked that Delay Trees have received such little press thus far in both their home country and overseas, but that should not last for long. Whether they choose to play for American, British, or Finnish audiences, their serenely melodic interpretation of indie-pop is fulfilling enough to achieve success wherever the four-piece chooses to take it.

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Delay Trees - About Brothers

Download audio file (dtrees-abo.mp3)

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Delay Trees - Moving

Download audio file (dtrees-mov.mp3)

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Delay Trees - Resurrection of Sonic Blue

Download audio file (dtrees-res.mp3)

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One hit wonders are certainly a fascinating concept. An artist with the fortune of executing one brilliant idea can live quite a luxurious lifestyle with minimal work, even if most artists who instead release numerous albums that are all enjoyable often end up barely scraping by. Sure, most of us can agree that the music industry does not reward its inclined occupants based on effort, but what is the deciding factor then? Most of the time, it seems to be based on chance and commercial reception more than anything else, which hinders the ability that independent music has to emit originality and selflessness. The effect may be indirect, but the hordes of artists that compete for the one breakthrough single that earns them a cool million or two inherit an ideology that proves detrimental to the values of artistry in general. Striving for monetary success is an ideal that has been firmly enforced in society, even if its tendency to overlap into business, sports, and the arts has caused aspects like effort, commitment, and morality to lower themselves within the hierarchies of success. Independent music, though, seems to retain selfless intuitions for success. It seems to prevail momentously in the arts, mainly because the results affect its followers on an emotional level.

Existing within this realm of independent music in a form that is too transparent for their evident talents, The Kingsbury Manx are a fine example of a group that have never been deterred by the allure of cheap ambition. Their four albums, all released this decade, have shown the North Carolina-based quartet to be a band that values consistency just as much as they do radio-friendly accessibility. It would be hard to select any of their four albums as their best, as their lush mixture of throwback pop and country (with tinges of psychedelia and rock) has remained a successful concoction that has never grown tiresome or uninspired on any of The Kingsbury Manx’s releases. The group’s history is pretty traditional, as they follow a long line of schoolmates-turned-bandmates that met in middle school, separated for a bit in college, and then reunited to infuse their artistic compatibility. For college, the four members all stayed within the boundaries of North Carolina, with half attending UNC-Chapel Hill and the other two studying at Wilmington. Both The Kingsbury Manx’s adoration for their home state and their unintimidating demeanor is indicative on their MySpace, where their celebratory response to UNC’s NCAA win is profiled in a plethora of photos. It looks like the MySpace for a high school sports fan rather than a professional band, but it fits surprisingly well with The Kingsbury Manx’s unpretentiousness and artistic values.

The Kingsbury Manx’s rise to success has been slow but steady, seeming to escalade slightly with each successive release. Their four albums came within the span of 2000 to 2005, demonstrating a rapid sense of workmanship in addition to the consistency that eventually resulted in a sizable fanbase by the release of their previous album, The Fast Rise and Fall of the South, in 2005. Four years has probably seemed like a lifetime to fans that were accustomed to The Kingsbury Manx’s quick releases of LPs and EPs, but it has certainly paid off with the release of their fifth album, Ascenseur Ouvert!. Their sound has always been accessible, mainly because of the influence that British ‘60s pop has had on them. The Kinks, The Byrds, and even Pink Floyd’s lighter fare have a prominent influence on The Kingsbury Manx’s fusion of blissful chamber-pop and ‘60s psychedelia. Beginning with their second album, Let You Down, The Kingsbury Manx have explored more ambitious moods and styles in addition to their accessible vein of pop. Each album has appeared to involve more modernistic styles like alt-rock or Americana, but their admiration of ‘60s British pop remains prevalent. On Ascenseur Ouvert!, the four-piece have used their decade-long experience and growing stylistic ambitiousness to present an impressive release that capitalizes on both their British influences and native American roots.

As a whole, Ascenseur Ouvert! is accessible from the get-go due to an approach that uses both the group’s conception of familiar pop music and an album format that features short-but-sweet tracks that rarely exceed four minutes. These never seem to waste even a second of time though, as the lush vocal harmonies and melodic assortment of keys and acoustics make tracks like “If You’re on the Mend, I’m on the Move” and “These Three Things”. The infectious “Over the Oeuvre” is more brisk with its pulsating keys and trickling synth line, but the vocals of guitarist Bill Taylor and drummer Ryan Richardson are serene and whimsically delightful enough to make even chaos seem uncharacteristically relaxing. Save for the budding strings of “Minos Maze” and the subtle orchestral usage in “Shoulder Stories” and “Well, Whatever”, the album never strays far from a familiar and consistent stylistic territory. The aforementioned tracks with orchestral implementation tend to echo contemporary chamber-pop acts like Field Music or Belle & Sebastian in their approach, occasionally resulting in even greater heights than on throwback Brit-pop efforts. Even on those though, the album reaches sweeping heights that rivals all of The Kingsbury Manx’s previous efforts. They may not have reached household-name status yet, but their consistency should pay off after Ascenseur Ouvert! is warmly received. Not everyone needs a one-hit-wonder to achieve success; for The Kingsbury Manx and most enduring artists, their eventual recognition will arise from consistency and durability.

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The Kingsbury Manx - Well, Whatever

Download audio file (kmanx-wel.mp3)

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The Kingsbury Manx - If You’re on the Mend, I’m on the Move

Download audio file (kmanx-ify.mp3)

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The Kingsbury Manx - Over the Oeuvre

Download audio file (kmanx-ove.mp3)

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Odessa Records

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Psychedelia is rarely looked upon as the most intricate or respectable of genres. Throw in a little reverb here, add some overlapping vocal melodies there, and you have yourself a song typical of the style. The dismissal of psychedelia is usually rooted in one of two excuses, with one being the genre’s linear composure and the other related to the supposed target audience of deadbeats and hippies. Both are horrible stereotypes, especially in response to a genre that – if anything – is more overlooked than most styles of indie-rock that occupy the mainstream today. Although it is true that there have been many desperate psychedelia artists and fans that are tripping too hard to know who is on stage, I feel that the artists that utilize elements of psychedelia while maintaining an emphasis on other genres are being underappreciated because of this ridiculous generalizations. Spacemen 3 is the first group that comes to mind for me, as they prominently infused a new style of psychedelia that was previously interpreted as unconventional and devoid of focus. They were able to create beautiful melodies with heavy distortion and pulsing percussion, an aspect that captured fans due to the unique contrasting of different stylistic methods. Implementation of synths, one-chord jam sessions, and avant-garde production and structural techniques were prevalent, and the cult following they amassed was in result to a sound that was both incomparable and inventively brilliant.

Even if they are not exactly household names to casual music fans, groups like Spacemen 3 and The Jesus and Mary Chain are responsible for molding the current perception of psychedelia as a genre that is often unpredictable and inherently multifarious. Bands like Deerhunter, Wavves, and Crystal Stilts are all clearly indebted to this, as defining their music often is an inconclusive task that leads us somewhere between psychedelia, post-punk, and indie-rock. One could say that the newest group to emerge from this righteous philosophy has the potential to be the most eclectic of them all. Crocodiles have been building some buzz for the past several months, thanks to some help from a group of a comparable stylistic vein. They were propelled initially by the praise of acclaimed noise-pop duo No Age, who wrote on their site at the end of 2008 that Crocodiles’ “Neon Jesus” was one of their favorite songs of the year. A record deal with Fat Possum Records followed less than a month later, and Crocodiles soon enough found themselves caught up in an unavoidable stream of hype. That the two frontmen consist of a teacher and a butcher almost sounds like the start of a bad joke, but it is hard to blame a band at the middle-point between obscurity and renown for holding a steady job. Butchers and teachers rarely cross paths in the world of traditional occupations, but Crocodiles appears as an exhibit of one of the best songwriting partnerships of 2009.

While one would have usually found Brandon Welchez substitute-teaching in a classroom or Charles Rowell baking bread in a bakery instead of on stage or in the studio, they are both currently in the midst of a national tour that demands a show nearly every night for several months. It is hard to blame the demand for Crocodiles though, as it seems that they have emerged at a perfect time when fusions of psychedelia are accessible and familiar to many listeners of indie-rock. Crocodiles’ mixture of psychedelia, noise-pop, and post-punk has earned them comparisons to Spacemen 3 and the like, but there is a sense of modernistic ingenuity even on unavoidably nostalgic efforts like “I Wanna Kill” and “Here Comes the Sky.” It is their stylistic adeptness that carries them far on most occasions, as their display of wispy synth lines, roaring guitars, and alternating percussion show the duo’s most glaring strength. These contrasting elements prevail as surprisingly cohesive standards thanks to Crocodiles’ impressive songwriting and stylistic composure, one that achieves innovative greatness despite some enjoyably blatant influences. “I Wanna Kill” plays with the buoyant reverb of ‘80s indie-rock staples like Echo & the Bunnymen, while the jagged “Flash of Light” is highly reminiscent of the artsy yelps and spurting bass that is typical of contemporary noise-pop. Their debut album, Summer of Hate, feels like one accessible time machine; the duo appears with a seamless ability to either singularly focus on one period or fuse them together to create something extraordinarily unique.

The unique craftsmanship of Summer of Hate results in an album that values consistency in a different light than most contemporary artists. Somehow, despite the fact that nearly each and every song sounds like it originated from a different time period, each and every song flows into one another gracefully with no force at all. “Soft Skull (In My Room)” touts vocal ardency with some impressive guitar work and utilization of synths, but a hazily ethereal demeanor still lurks in Welchez’s blithe vocals and Rowell’s light synths. As a result, the transition into the beautiful “Here Comes the Sky” succeeds without a hitch. Keys take on a similar rhythmic role as the synths on “Soft Skull (In My Room)”, but the duo’s psychedelic ventures are considerably more prevalent here with a single reverbed guitar and choir-like assortment of synth pads enclosing the track into thickly reverberating heights. The style reminds me more of Blur’s more psychedelic material (“1992”, the bulk of 13) than psych-rock shape-shifters like Spacemen 3, but this time it results in perhaps the group’s greatest achievement thus far. Summer of Hate is a distinctively memorable debut that achieves based on its own innovation, as it masterfully juggles the divide between audible influence and focused creativity.

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Crocodiles - Here Comes the Sky

Download audio file (croc-her.mp3)

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Crocodiles - I Wanna Kill

Download audio file (croc-iwa.mp3)

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Crocodiles - Soft Skull (In My Room)

Download audio file (croc-sof.mp3)

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Fat Possum Records

MySpace

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What artist doesn’t want attention? Many of them send out hordes of e-mails and MySpace invitations to the point where it nearly seems like spam. It may seem like a nuisance to even the most passionate music fan, but what separates these artists from the pseudo-corporations is their justification in doing this; they simply want someone to listen to their music, not deposit a couple grand into a Nigerian bank account. From hanging up self-printed ads on the street to the accessibility of e-mail, advertising without straining one’s wallet is vital to most independent musicians. Especially with this economy, most of their day-jobs just barely cover basic expenses. And if they have the choice to use their extra income on instruments and recording or advertising, most of these artists are going to go for the former. For a band of Clues’ high caliber, one would expect them to at least make an effort in self-promotion. Originating from the same Montreal experimental-pop music scene as bands like Malajube, The Dears, and Wolf Parade, Clues’ solid songwriting and unique approach make their chances of reaching similar heights quite likely. But if they have such blatant ability, one would likely wonder why they have no MySpace page or web site. It is humorous that this era makes the absence of either one seem deviant, but there is little denying the impact of such technological tools on independent music promotion.

Lack of experience is certainly not the reason for such an unconventional approach, as two of the group’s five members are from two groups that is synonymous with the Montreal music scene. In fact, one could make the argument that they are a few of the most important acts the Canadian city has had this decade. Brendan Reed was a member of Arcade Fire before they released Funeral, widely considered to be one of the best debut albums of the decade. Reed’s vocals and percussion work appeard on the album, and he later went on to join Les Angles Morts. Clues’ lead vocalist and other frontman, Alden Penner, co-founded of The Unicorns with Nick Thorburn in 2000 and remained with the group throughout its short but acclaimed career until late 2004, when Thorburn began his work with Islands and Penner started releasing solo material. The fusion of Reed’s multi-instrumental ability and the type of innovative songwriting Penner brought to the table in The Unicorns has some great results on Clues’ self-titled debut album, set to be released on May 19th through Constellation Records. Upon Clues’ initial formation in 2007, Reed and Penner played small-profile gigs around Montreal. After constructing the group’s approach, the duo expanded Clues in 2008 after Ben Borden, Lisa Gamble, and Nick Scribner joined. The additional instrumentation gave them what was necessary to create their excellent debut album, which should almost certainly achieve recognition without self-promotion.

Apart from their musical work on-stage and in the studio, the entrepreneurial Clues have devoted a large amount of time to VillaVillaNola.com, an online music store that features under-appreciated artists from Montreal and elsewhere. It is a clear indication of their love for the scene and the DIY ethic in general, also indicated by their non-existent promotional approach. Such tactics can prove admirable for a band of Clues’ stature, even if an ample amount of it was likely derived from sheer confidence. Reed and Penner have had plenty of experience with a few of the greatest bands to come out of Montreal this decade, and the three other members are honed as skilled musicians with plenty of ideas. This leaves little room for acquiring experience and ample room for producing some fantastic music, resulting in a debut album that sounds like it was created by a group that has been working together for over two years. Their approach is extremely eclectic, fusing influences of art-rock, electronica, and psychedelia that results in a sound that fits in the realm of Montreal-based experimental-pop music while maintaining the utmost originality. From the swaying, sitar-like effect throughout the exotic “In the Dream” to the excitable array of fuzzy guitars in “Remember Severed Head”, Clues is a debut that never seems tireless, unmotivated, or unfocused.

That Clues can maintain such a stylistic focus through an array of songs that generate hooks and awe-inspiring moments through varying styles of instrumentation and unpredictable structural tendencies is part of Clues’ charm. “Remember Severed Head” is under three minutes in length, but it is so brisk that it seems like several songs in one with its apt transitions. The distorted vein of post-punk in the verses grows into an ethereal, monophonic guitar melody before the thrilling verses arrive again. Penner’s vocals are excellent throughout, as is the instrumental works on all fronts; the guitars sparkle with intricately empowering progressions, while a flurry of keys and percussion combine to form a ceaselessly excitable backdrop. “Perfect Fit” takes an entirely different route altogether, allowing an old-fashioned piano to be run under Penner’s trembling vocals. “I have seen the most incredible light in your eyes,” he repeats, allowing the melody to grow upon itself with increasing percussion and an explosion of guitars and bass that concludes the song masterfully. “Crows” is also notable for its swanky mixture of guitars and horns, especially when combined with the high-pitched vocals that endure throughout. “Let’s Get Strong” is a light piano ballad that concludes Clues, serving as the most simplistic effort on the album. By this point though, Clues’ ambition is no question. Every track on Clues is a genuinely worthwhile journey with both excellent performances and songwriting. Expect this one to be talked about quite a bit.

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Clues - Remember Severed Head

Download audio file (clues-rem.mp3)

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Clues - Perfect Fit

Download audio file (clues-per.mp3)

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Clues - Crows

Download audio file (clues-cro.mp3)

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Constellation Records

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Seeing a rock band take the stage without a drummer can be like watching an artist try to paint without a canvas. The ideas and talent can be there, but the necessary materials may not be. Many groups have accomplished enough without the use of a bass, guitar, or vocals, but percussion is an element that is too unique to be mimicked or replicated without the use of technology. I was just reminded of the complications involved in missing an instrumental component last week when I featured The Mint Chicks, a New Zealand-based act that had to cope with the absence of their bassist after moving overseas to Portland. They conquered this obstacle by having guitars incorporate low-pitched, bass-like notes on their tracks, and they did so in such a meticulous manner that most listeners would be unaware of the absence. The case is less common for the absence of a guitar, but there are several artists like Ben Folds, Death From Above 1979, and The Dresden Dolls that have done just fine by using a mixture of keys, bass, and percussion to create a signature sound. Percussion is where it gets tricky though, as practically everything apart from classical pieces, ambient music, and a jazz solo here and there seems to utilize percussion prominently, regardless of how complex or simplistic the accompaniment is.

It has become somewhat customary for electronic artists to hone their percussive skills through technological means, even if their ability to play a real-life drum kit is limited at best. Some look upon this as a shameful practice, but I see little difference between that and hiring a drummer to put one’s songwriting into audible form. In fact, if one is able to construct unconventionally appropriate percussive beats in the realm of electronica like Junior Boys or Kelley Polar, it often sounds better than using a typical drum set. The allure of live percussion may be taken away, but some styles and songs within them utilize technological progression better than others. If rock bands were to utilize this technological approach though, the results would likely be catastrophic due to the flexibility that the genre demands on all instrumental fronts. Apart from their sheer melodic ability, one of the most impressive things about Two Door Cinema Club is how they appear to be defying such stereotypes with their crisp interpretation of indie-rock. The Northern Irish trio have enough slick guitar progressions, subtly infectious bass lines, and amiable vocal harmonies to come across as any first-tier indie-rock group, which should make their percussive absence surprising to any listener that is treated to their flavorful sound.

That three individuals craft such a memorable style with the aid of laptop-based percussion is impressive in itself, but the fact that their impressive songwriting and emphasis on production capitalizes on the percussive absence is what separates Two Door Cinema Club from many of their indie-rock contemporaries. In addition to being the lead vocalist, Alex Trimble is classified as the beat-maker with his percussive chops, even if his experience with drum kits is limited. Thanks to his astute ability - in addition to bassist Kevin Baird and guitarist Sam Halliday - Two Door Cinema Club end up sounding just as refreshingly infectious as groups like Phoenix, French Kicks, and The Whitest Boy Alive. Such acts exemplify a recent trend in indie-rock, which incorporates a wider embracement of electronica and dance. To be specific, Two Door Cinema Club’s incorporation of electronic music echoes the sentiments of Phoenix’s recent material, especially with the fast-paced and ambidextrous vocals of Trimble. Although the hazy synth washings of “Do You Want It All?” suggest a capacity for balladry, Two Door Cinema Club’s half-a-dozen or so released songs are often excitable with quick tempos and swift vocal accompaniments. This remains consistent throughout all of their songs, a steady indication that their eventual full-length debut will be something that attracts a significant amount of attention.

Two Door Cinema Club’s new single, “Something Good Can Work”, is also indicative of their probable success As their most polished effort yet, “Something Good Can Work” was the first track I heard from Two Door Cinema Club and I was hooked after the initial listen. What may initially appear to be a fusion of Modest Mouse’s swift angst-rock sensibility and Phoenix’s undeniable ability to craft a devastating indie-rock hook takes on its own original form upon repeated listens, as the trio’s talents evolve with each brilliant chorus. Although the guitar progressions and drum loops barely stray from their initial roots, the subtle melodic additives in the chorus alongside Trimble’s heightened pitch makes the single both danceable and incredibly radio-friendly. Knowing that their percussive capabilities are limited, the emphasis on guitars and bass are highlighted enjoyably, resulting in multiple layers of melodically invigorating progressions that supplement one another in natural and inventive form. For “Do You Want It All?”, Death Cab For Cutie’s tendency to originally incorporate indie-rock and electro-pop come to mind, but the lighthearted demeanor of the track once again places it in the realm of instantaneous enjoyment that only comes so naturally for Two Door Cinema Club.

“Hands Off My Cash, Monty”, while less impressive than the two preceding efforts, is worthy enough for the trio’s ability to simultaneous incorporate a vast array of guitar progressions. The approach is similar to late ‘90s indie-rock, particularly in relation to The Wrens and Broken Social Scene, but suffers from repetition despite a handful of satisfying ideas throughout. Considering that it is offered as a free b-side though, it is not surprising that it cannot stand up to “Something Good Can Work.” For further indication of quality Two Door Cinema Club, check out the two songs on their MySpace, “Cigarettes in the Theatre” and “Undercover Martyn.” They both benefit from the excellent approach exhibited on “Something Good Can Work”, which was a devilishly good incorporation of electro-pop and indie-rock. Since Phoenix and the like are finding such success with similar styles, one can expect the fantastic songwriting of Two Door Cinema Club to carry them to great heights. Now all we have to wait on is the full-length debut, which the trio promises is in the making. At the moment, they are shooting for a release date of late 2009 or early 2010.

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Two Door Cinema Club - Something Good Can Work

Download audio file (tdcc-som.mp3)

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Two Door Cinema Club - Do You Want It All?

Download audio file (tdcc-doy.mp3)

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Two Door Cinema Club - Hands Off My Cash, Monty

Download audio file (tdcc-han.mp3)

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MySpace

BUY (UK)

I often find March to be one of the dullest months of the year. Apart from the allure of St. Patrick’s Day and March Madness, there is little to get excited about. The weather sucks, the workload for classes is nearing its peak, and my inability to pick a decent bracket frustrates me to no end (damn you, Memphis and Pitt). But hey, classes are over about a month from now and baseball starts next week, so things could be worse. In a month where good music was vital in improving somber moods, several artists prevailed with some excellent material. From familiar faces like The Veils and Röyksopp to up-and-coming hype machines like Micachu, Tesla Boy, and Julian Velard, several artists made March a month to remember with a handful of releases that are sure to appear on my year-end list. The ’80s electro of Tesla Boy and the cabaret-pop of Julian Velard suggest some sort of throwback theme, but wildly successful attempts at innovation from Micachu, The Veils, and others make it a compilation that presents material derived from both nostalgia and contemporary innovation. I consider it to be an excellent fusion.

01. The Veils - The Letter (post)
02. Richard Swift - Already Gone (post)
03. The Deep Dark Woods - Polly (post)
04. Röyksopp - The Girl and the Robot (post)
05. Tesla Boy - Spirit of the Night (post)
06. Julian Velard - Jimmy Dean & Steve McQueen (post)
07. Micachu - Golden Phone (post)
08. The Mint Chicks - I Can’t Stop Being Foolish (post)
09. Chris Robley & The Fear of Heights - A Memory Lost at Sea (post)
10. Home Video - I Can Make You Feel It (post)
11. The Gift Machine - In the Middle (post)

DOWNLOAD ENTIRE COMPILATION>>> (45.4 MB, .RAR)