Berated

Although many industry professionals may have a tendency to disagree, there is nothing wrong with the audible expression of youthful exuberance. An immediate assumption would associate this expression with experience, which is a vastly premature notion that is prompted by the same stereotypes that plague mainstream pop artists. Society has grown so accustomed to seeing boy bands and pop idols being coddled by restless music execs, paid-for-hire songwriters, and millionaire choreographers that insist on implementing generic ideas in order to appeal to the general public. Consequently, there is not even a shock factor involved when one of these glittery wunderkinds starts attempting to write songs on their own. Instead, denial is the most prevalent feeling amongst former fans that feel somewhat betrayed by their idol’s decision to actually relay their OWN emotions and talents. Execs tend to avoid this maneuver, predicting a lack of success based primarily on the fact that sex will sell better than “childish” anecdotes and the acquisition of experience. They are right too, but this is not to say that showing one’s child-like enthusiasm for music should be deemed industrially dangerous just because there are no vetted supervisors. My main issue with mainstream pop is this, that one is criticized or immediately disregarded for thinking outside the box and, in doing so, showing their commitment to an art that truly relies on innovation at this point in its history.

As a result of this, it is safe to say that Kinetic Stereokids will never be the darlings of the mainstream pop world. Their music sounds much too improvised, unpredictable, and stylistically fused for that. How dare they attempt such creativity within the realm of pop music! It almost sounds as if the five guys in Kinetic Stereokids are friends in middle school, getting into music performance for the first time simultaneously. Who the hell would give someone with that description a chance? Well, any fan of Beck, the Beastie Boys, or the Avalanches already has, as these are just a few examples of acts that defied the typically corporate format of pop music with groundbreaking stylistic fusions and engrossing thematic concepts that were able to cater to both fans of innovation and popular music. Their names remain trademarks of the ‘90s and ‘00s as this decade comes to a close, allowing neither their enigmatic enthusiasm nor initial lack of experience to prevent them from selling millions of records and, more importantly, attaining respectability in a genre that is overly selective when it comes to something new and different. Kinetic Stereokids look to continue a similar trend in a new era, one rampant with technological differences that could prove to be a benefit or detriment to the creation of music in the coming years.

Preparing a sophomore album is always a sensitive topic. It is the band’s first exposure to a world of expectations, regardless of whether your album went gold or sold ten copies. Criticism tends to be taken more prominently for the most mature artists, as these eventually come to be perceived as free constructive criticism rather than some blowhard lamenting his biased disdain for a style he personally does not enjoy. That Kinetic Stereokids have released an epic for their second album seems like a gesture of sorts, perhaps to the critics that found their 2007 debut, Basement Kids, too inconsistent for their tastes. Sometimes it was too flip-floppy, while other times it was consistent but too mundane. The impressive qualities certainly outweighed the bad ones, but it struggled like most debuts do in attempting to capture a cohesive feel throughout the album. This often relies on thematic and melodic consistencies, which are two qualities that Kinetic Stereokids’ new album, Kid Moves, accomplishes with relative ease. Its length spans over 70 minutes, but the consistent focus on recapturing youth results in some of the freshest and most inventive material you are bound to hear this year. After all, the enthusiasm of childhood is something that many adults attempt to reclaim. Kinetic Stereokids make this a bit easier.

Kid Moves is not an album that is particularly easy to listen to; most albums that attempt dozens of genres over a 70-minute span are not. But this release is impressive for several reasons, the most blatant being how they are able to seamlessly imitate a multitude of styles while retaining the youthful expression that makes their music so irresistibly fun. The opener, “Free Money”, sounds like one of those summer jams from the ‘90s with its infusion of hip-hop percussion and chirpy vocals corresponding excellently with the near-improvised distortion of several electric guitars. As the band personally clarifies, fusing the sounds of Sonic Youth and the Beastie Boys is not the worst idea in the world. “Twisted Thoughts” is not as intricately interwoven but it still packs a similar punch, contrasting an automated robot voice with naturally sweet acoustics and a natural croon that shows Kinetic Stereokids as supremely talented musicians with a great knack for melody. The robot seems to be describing some sort of acid trip too, which makes the serene progressions even more comforting. That it is followed by the psychedelic hip-hop of “Drugs Is a Drag” is no coincidence, as Kid Moves is an album that flows with surprising precision despite its daunting stylistic diversity. “Drugs Is a Drag” later flows into some Avalanches-like mash-up that leaves me thoroughly impressed; the incorporation of guitar solos over the samples of an operatic tenor, hazy percussion, and warbled vocals make this an effort of extreme innovation, just like the album it is included on.

I could go on all day about how more tracks, specifically “Assisted Living” and “Planes with Teeth”, are groundbreaking in several ways, but this is an album designed for listeners willing to enjoy surprises. The eight-minute “Planes with Teeth” incorporates scratched samples with haunting alt-rock theatrics reminiscent of Radiohead and whimpering acoustics that recall either Jeff Buckley or a stripped-down Modest Mouse. You can even find some free-jazz if you listen closely, reminiscent of Talk Talk’s later material. These all gradually grow into one another, eventually resulting in a fusion that should leave any appreciators of various genres with their jaws wide open and their ears begging for more. I rarely come across a band with such a grasp of both natural and electronic concepts. Usually it is difficult to find an artist with esteemed talent for just one, but Kinetic Stereokids have defied expectations and churned out an album that is truly one of 2009’s best because of their ability to cohesively and seamlessly incorporate the best of both worlds. Contrary to their name, Kinetic Stereokids are anything but kids when it comes to their musical ability. They just possess a similar passion and ambition, one that will eventually be fulfilled if they keep releasing epic triumphs like Kid Moves.

——————————————————————————————

Kinetic Stereokids – Planes with Teeth

Download audio file (kkids-pla.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Kinetic Stereokids – Twisted Thoughts

Download audio file (kkids-twi.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Kinetic Stereokids – Drugs Is a Drag

Download audio file (kkids-dru.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

Attempting to juggle two musical projects is like being forced to decide between two best friends. Each one provides great collaborative moments and a level of comfort, but the subtleties are often what determine the final decision. How durable the relationship has been, the amount of changes undergone to maintain relations, and even accustomed tones of voice are all subtle components of a friendship that devise the strength of a relationship’s backbone. Since music is often a process that is undeniably collaborative for most of today’s artists, the decisions regarding who to work with and what to work on are grounded in a very similar decision-making process. And like friendships, there is often pressure to focus all of one’s energy into a singular force. No one enjoys being a spare tire. For Brent Knopf, one-third of the creative power behind acclaimed indie-rockers Menomena, his ambitions are much too lofty to exist in a musical world full of singular demands and mind-numbingly consistent expectations. Menomena’s third album and Barsuk debut, Friend and Foe, was released nearly three years ago to glowing reviews, most of them praising the trio for taking accessible indie-rock into uncharted fusions of punk, noise-rock, and funk. Knopf has been with Menomena since the beginning and from their unknown status into one of prestige, leaving a sort of allegiance that is hard to shake off even if your fellow band members are supportive of a solo side project.

As Knopf attempts to simultaneously juggle his primary project (Menomena) and solo project (Ramona Falls), one cannot help but imagine how he is able to produce quality work with the pressures of both projects looming over him. Menomena have been in the studio for nearly three years preparing the follow-up to Friend and Foe, while the debut release from his new solo project contains 11 tracks that contain the depth and focus that fans of Menomena are accustomed to. To say that he has been busy over the past two years would be an understatement, as the development process for an album is grueling and time-consuming (unless you can whip a classic out in a week or so, like The Beatles did numerous times). But Knopf has kept his focus despite the struggles involved in simultaneously being a force in both projects, the struggles being not just the actual physical tasks of songwriting and recording but also the stress that one must feel if friends or band members are not supportive. However, even by simply listening to their music, it becomes fairly evident that the members in Menomena are all mature enough to respect the songwriting process and one’s own individualistic means of expression. For an artist like Knopf, this support makes his solo material flourish even more.

It takes a mature artist to admit a preference toward one specific project. It is always difficult to though, almost like telling a good friend that there will always be someone more reliable and fulfilling than them. But music is not always like life; music is much more flexible. Knopf admits that he initially kept his stronger material saved for Menomena, primarily because he believes in the power of collaboration. It only took a matter of time for Knopf’s own solo material to reveal otherwise though. While Knopf remains true to Menomena and continues to work on their new album, he has transformed his solo output into something of equal effort, satisfaction, and time. With his solo alias being named after one of his favorite childhood hiking trails, Knopf’s Ramona Falls has released a debut that is reflective of Menomena’s innovative tendencies while remaining completely original in style and tone. Like his initial work, Ramona Falls’ Intuit reveals a sophisticated vein of Knopf’s pop music that is enriched by everything from delicate piano progressions to the screeching of synchronized samples. He remains a pop songwriter at heart, but his interweaving and acoustical and electronic components are a gift for all listeners, especially those that are already Menomena fans.

Intuit sports plenty of guest appearances (The Helio Sequence, Mirah, Loch Lomond…) but Knopf is clearly the main audible force. What is amazing about this album is how polished he makes something sound with such little means; the majority of Intuit was recorded in DIY fashion with little aid from the studio. “I Say Fever” boasts a messy arsenal of interweaving guitars that seem to enjoyably crash and burn over the delicate twinkles of keys, while “Salt Sack” takes advantage of edginess by constantly alternating the rhythm section in accordance to Knopf’s melodic variations. These do not sound like DIY efforts, but Knopf’s ability to turn even the simplest of ideas into something extraordinarily grandiose should be unquestioned by now. Even the tracks that do sound lo-fi – like the build-up of acoustics in reverb in “Bellyfulla” or the stripped-down “Diamond Shovel” – are excellent additions to an album reigned supreme by constant innovation. “I Say Fever” is not quite minimalistic, but its evolution from a bluesy guitar progression into an epic with roaring guitars and squealing brass is boisterously impressive. Rarely has the birthing of stylistic fusions been so enjoyable.

With a croon that possesses the same nasally excellence and sincerity of a Michael Stipe sound-alike, Knopf also delivers a countless number of hooks in tracks like “Melectric” and the astonishing “Russia”. The constant use of keys makes this comparison even more apt, as the warble of acoustics and keys in the opening “Melectric” paves the way for brilliant bursts in rhythmic and vocal content that are quite reminiscent of similarly influenced ‘80s alternative-pop acts, even recalling Celtic folk in the process. “Russia” may be the best thing he has written, featuring musical snippets more abundantly than a conventional structure. They all combine to form something beautiful though, complete with string arrangements and revolutionary percussion. To say the least, it is the most epic three-minute song you are bound to hear. Knopf’s talent is extremely evident throughout Intuit but one must not forget how important his gifted support system and multifarious focus was toward this outstanding album’s final result.

——————————————————————————————

Ramona Falls – Russia

Download audio file (rfalls-rus.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Ramona Falls – I Say Fever

Download audio file (rfalls-isa.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Ramona Falls – Melectric

Download audio file (rfalls-mel.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

Like most stylistically unclassifiable acts, the sheer oddity of Cold Cave can only be explained by dissecting each member’s role. And when each collaborator’s presence is already shrouded in a unique enigma because of creative and somewhat intimidating content from their past projects, the supplied expectations surrounding the lack of conventional focus tends to make the unpredictable and unclassifiable more fun. In Cold Cave’s case, each member’s preceding fan base has come to expect their material to be filled with startling innovation. Consequently, there is no pressure to become increasingly accessible. Rather, with a new project comes a new opportunity to tweak an original formula and work with new collaborators to devise a sound that captures previous fans from all parties while remaining gripping enough to attract new audiences. One of Cold Cave’s main members hails from one of the most acclaimed experimental-pop groups of the decade, Xiu Xiu. Another, under the alias of Prurient, is renowned for his ability to turn even the most conventional of household appliances into a full-blown orchestra. The leader, Wesley Eisold, has dabbled in everything from punk-rock to experimental noise while working with everyone from Karen O to Eric Paul. When attempting to understand which influences and ideas inspired Cold Cave the most, their cumulative experience makes coping with the occasional complexities easier. With a group as diverse as this, it is hard not to appreciate the fusion of creativity found on their debut album.

Despite his original ideas, Eisold has found collaborative consistency to be a struggle. He has fronted numerous projects, all attaining some form of success, but has not yet found durability in a working group. His various projects and aliases, ranging from American Nightmare to Ye Olde Maids, have primarily focused on a mixture of punk-rock and noise-rock. His most popular project was one of his first, Give Up the Ghost; the Boston-based punk group retains its cult following in Boston and many of its members have gone on to form successful groups like Head Automatica and the Hope Conspiracy. Eisold’s recent work has involved more noise and general experimentation, and his most recent foray with Cold Cave shows a dramatic shift in composure for the songwriting veteran. Like a cross between the dance-pop of this decade and the explosion of new-wave and electro-pop in the ‘80s, Cold Cave sits between complexity and accessibility by featuring a style that borrows the unconventional noise-based experience of each member and an infectious grasp of electro-pop that makes it all go down easier. Xiu Xiu’s Caralee McElroy and Prurient (Dominick Fernow) also make their presence known with vocal performances, production ideas, and general song composures. Fans of either Xiu Xiu or Prurient will certainly notice their subtle additions on varying tracks, whether it is prominent like the angelic vocals on “Life Magazine” or the Prurient-like minimalism of “Youth and Lust”.

Despite the individualistic creativity of their past output, Cold Cave serves as one of the most accessible projects for Eisold, McElroy, and Fernow. Nothing suggests it is a cheap shot at recognition though. Industrial dance is hardly a genre filled with eye-catching innovations, but Cold Cave uniquely refine a style that many consider to be still lost in the surplus of ‘80s glamour. Their debut full-length, Love Comes Close, seems to configure the most enduring aspects of ‘80s electro-pop and integrate them into the world of contemporary production where noise, IDM, and ambience are all accepted music genres. Cold Cave’s primary source of uniqueness comes from the variation on Love Comes Close, with each track possessing a different feel and melodic arsenal. “The Laurels of Erotomania” channels evolving IDM with its simplistic synth riffs being backed by aromatic keyboard chirps and deathly croons. Its emphasis on dance-tinged minimalism certainly echoes The Knife with Cold Cave’s vocoder tactics being the most blatant reason for comparison. Similar progressions are found on the eerie “Hello Rats” and “Heaven Was Full”, both tracks that feature quivering vocals with a seductive baritone. The incorporation of ominous synths and booming vocals make both somewhat reminiscent of Dave Gahan and Depeche Mode in general, the latter being present in the mood and overall tone of the track. As the legendary electronic band proved throughout the ‘80s and as Cold Cave do now, sounding undead over the sound of ominous synthesizers can be oddly invigorating.

Tracks like these certainly establish the feel of regret and forlorn loss that dominated ‘80s electro-pop, but Cold Cave go beyond simple imitation with tracks like “Life Magazine”. This one plays like a more upbeat Black Box Recorder, complete with the seductive female vocals and accompanying synths that make this more bubblegum-pop than electro-pop. The vocals repeat themselves in a very distant echo, with the overdubbed reverb acting appropriately as a durable manufacturer of various hooks. In addition to the gloomy industrial tracks and the chirpy allure of “Heaven Was Full”, efforts like “Love Comes Close” perfectly capture the grace and ability of ‘80s revolutionaries like The Psychedelic Furs and Felt. The vocals sometimes seem dry and awkward, but this actually plays off like a benefit because it brightens the impressive arrangements even more with a more personable connection in the vocals. “The Trees Grew Emotions and Died” certainly looks to have a hand from Prurient, mainly because of the unconventional range in pitch and prominent percussion. Like his previous work, the track is unpredictably filled with concise samples and odd rhythm sections that cling and clang over the main arrangement. The difference serves as a stylistic expansion due to the parts of Eisold and McElroy, both of whom contribute an electro-pop edge to his inaccessible yet oddly captivating material. Cold Cave’s debut full-length is definitely worth a look for fans of noise-pop, contemporary dance, and ‘80s electronic. It can occasionally border on mocking a genre that many deem outdated, but for the most part Love Comes Close is a successful debut that showcases the unique talents of the three primary members.

——————————————————————————————

Cold Cave – Life Magazine

Download audio file (ccave-lif.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Cold Cave – Love Comes Close

Download audio file (ccave-lov.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Cold Cave – The Trees Grew Emotions and Died

Download audio file (ccave-tre.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

MySpace

BUY

An appreciation for film is arguably the most common first step in uncovering and eventually admiring the arts. Contrary to the conventional uses of music, photography, or painting, children are exposed to both educational and entertaining films at an early age in order to maximize their general perception of morals, social interaction, and social norms. At this early age, art is hardly an afterthought. Guardians use film to make their children more socially aware, and mainly to safely occupy them without putting much effort forth. The same could be said for something like finger-painting or children’s music, but kid-centric films remain the norm in introducing children to media for the first time. The others do not have the capacity for upheld interest when the child is older. When they grow of age and begin to examine the audible and visual creations around them, film is naturally the first form of art that many gravitate towards. Complex intricacies involving camera angles, music theory, and color schemes are not found within the arts until further investigation regardless, but to capture an essence of childhood in-depth is perhaps more rewarding than an interest that peaked around one’s pre-teens, which is most often the case with music or painting. There are always exceptions, which are what most of us like to call prodigies, but there are few truly talented artists that undervalue the function of film, whether it is used to complement their music or paintings, or simply enjoyed as a hobby.

I have featured dozens of artists that got their start by scoring music for low-budget films; The Western States Motel, Camphor, and The Leisure Society are just a few that come to mind. Apart from producing stellar music, they share a common bond in the narrative appeal of their songs. All of their recent albums have been at least slightly conceptual, whether it was The Leisure Society’s fascination with occupied time or Camphor’s infatuation with wabi sabi (a Japanese conceptual belief that true greatness exists in the inconspicuous details of our world and true beauty can only be discovered in life’s imperfections). Neither of these thematic approaches relates to film, but as groups with experience in both film and songwriting they have an increased capacity to interweave various experiences to result in an enhanced narrative for their music. For filmmakers this could result in more effective sound design for their films. These artists have found the proper divide in differentiating and unifying the uses of audible and visual art, leading to results that are more frequently successful than those with a minimal externally artistic influence. Although their appreciation for film is only found through their name to the naked eye, Noah and the Whale possess the same narrative prowess that most songwriters seem to foolishly neglect.

Taking their name from Noah Baumbach’s excellent 2005 film The Squid and the Whale, Noah and the Whale profoundly express an appreciation for film’s ability to simulate dramatic real-life experiences into a comforting, occasionally humorous depiction. This is what Baumbach’s The Squid and the Whale did so gracefully, which is perhaps why the London-based quartet chose their name as an ode to its flawless approach. Their sophomore album, The First Days of Spring, also plays with a funny little thing we call human emotions in a way that relieves the heartbreak, loneliness, and general sullenness of a life without authentic fulfillment. This is also a common theme among the films of Wes Anderson, another filmmaker that Noah and the Whale have publicly displayed their adoration for. The four-piece has already caught the attention of Baumbach, so I would personally be shocked if these guys are not featured in a film by the end of next year. The First Days of Spring clarifies this sentiment entirely, as it plays like a feature film from beginning to end. It is almost like a soundtrack to one of the quirkiest, but also ardently effective, films of the year. That sounds like a film by Baumbach or Anderson to me. You can expect them to be proclaimed the next big thing when either of them features the group in a movie… it seems pretty imminent at this point.

The group’s debut, Peaceful, the World Lays Me Down, last year was undoubtedly impressive, but when listening to The First Days of Spring and looking back on it the debut seems like such a menial affair. This is such an expansive, mature release that it only vaguely resembles the group that put out one of last year’s more impressive debuts. The fascinating thing here is the album’s progression, shifting from barren folk tracks like “Our Window” to the cinematic orchestras in “Instrumental I” and “Love of an Orchestra” with precision. It does not sound forced nor desperate, but rather an example of how this is a group that clearly values conceptual themes. For a track like “Our Window”, lead vocalist and songwriter Charlie Fink puts on his best Matt Berninger impression by mumbling subtly brilliant lyrical progressions in a deep baritone that resonates with elegance over his evolving folk melodies. “I Have Nothing” and “My Broken Heart” are in the more single-worthy category with their soulful accessibility. The former is particularly reminiscent of the acoustical, pop-minded tracks of the group’s debut, recalling the melancholic practice of unfaithfulness as Fink pleads for his beloved to walk with him on “a new spring morning”. Rebirth, reconciliation, and rejection are all common occurrences in Fink’s work. “Come back to me, my darling,” he pleads. “I’d do anything to be at your side.”

“My Broken Heart” is perhaps the album’s shining moment, not wasting a moment over its five-minute span with a perfect mixture of guitars, strings, and a voice that is powerful enough to make anything sound convincing. “Broken hearts are a fickle thing and complicated too,” Fink sings. “I thought I believed in love but I’ve never seen it through.” After lamenting that he never married the girl he loved, he resorts to a technique that most songwriters in the indie-folk genre are reluctant to use: the power of optimism. “But I’ll be laughing again,” he sings before the emergence of a triumphant horn. The track picks up into an expansively rewarding evolution here, leaving room for the gracefulness of strings and eventually a guitar solo that wraps this gem up beautifully. This ingenious use of additional instrumentation, particularly the emergence of brass, is particularly reminiscent of Andrew Bird, another immensely gifted songwriter with a knack for narrative bliss. But comparisons are insulting for a band that has released something as memorable as The First Days of Spring. For as the name of this album entails, Noah and the Whale have experienced a rebirth in which their music resonates with a sense of emotional authenticity that is only believable from the mouths of children. But with music as heartfelt, genuine, and excitable as this, no one can doubt the progressive talent of Noah and the Whale.

——————————————————————————————

Noah and the Whale – My Broken Heart

Download audio file (noah-myb.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Noah and the Whale – I Have Nothing

Download audio file (noah-iha.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Noah and the Whale – Love of an Orchestra

Download audio file (noah-lov.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

Distinction will never be an issue for Wild Beasts. With a voice like Hayden Thorpe’s, it almost seems as if the English four-piece could put any arrangement under his dramatic delivery and the result would sound great. A stylistically distinctive vocalist can bring a new group soaring to great heights, as a natural ability like this tends to compensate for musical richness and cumulative innovation among critics that are satisfied by stylistic ambition alone. Luckily for new artists like these, the rampant tendency of critics to proclaim an artist as the next big thing based on stylistic accomplishments alone leads to recognition that is often undeserved (though this plight is common in the music industry regardless). There is often a disregard for the effectiveness of songwriting and cohesiveness of the respective release, prompted by a certain characteristic embedded in the artist’s sound that drastically separates them from their influences and contemporaries alike. In music, compensation for the insufficient is a manipulative process that results in artists either reaching their pinnacle or becoming forgotten by any indication of a fan base. Certainly there are some artists that dabble in perfection and never need to undergo this developmental process, but in this day and age where creativity is dampened by an excess of influences it is hard to look past a style that either creates feelings of extreme detest or excitable captivation among its listeners.

Unlike most other indie-rock newcomers, Wild Beasts probably were not the most desperate for a fan base right away. Most groups that successfully hearken back to a nostalgic style hardly are. It would be easy to slide Wild Beasts into a grouping that includes British Sea Power, Glasvegas, and perhaps even Franz Ferdinand. While Wild Beasts are generally darker and more distinctive in tone, these are all acts that wear their influences on their sleeves, showing no reluctance to bring out theatrical vocals in the vein of Queen or Sparks over eerie guitar progressions deriving from ‘80s post-punk. Classifying British Sea Power and Franz Ferdinand in this niche may be a slight reach though, as their roots tend to be more reflective of this decade’s art-rock push than the somberness of post-punk. Their voices though, whether it is Alex Kapranos or Yan, tend to emit a similar croon that is both deep in its audible and figurative meaning. The difference between these groups and Wild Beasts is quite simple though. The groups like Franz Ferdinand have lately striven for commercial access, releasing perfectly capable material in that regard but hardly breaking through any stylistic boundaries. Wild Beasts are so impressive because they are devoid of this pop-fueled desire, instead opting for the teary-eyed dramatics that made legendary post-punk acts like The Chameleons UK, Joy Division, and Billy Mackenzie so memorable. This authenticity is one of the reasons why their songwriting may be overlooked, which would be positive if they were generic songwriters. As it turns out though, the work on their new album is exceptional.

The most quirkily enjoyable thing about Wild Beasts is the juxtaposition of their varying influences. Thorpe’s lead vocals are strongly reminiscent of the quivering cries for help that Billy Mackenzie made famous in the realm of post-punk, but their music often hints at lights of optimism that are rare in a genre that encompasses such an enjoyably sullen haze. But while Thorpe makes post-punk the most oblivious practice on their second album, Two Dancers, but their tendency to use unconventional practices like chirpy guitar progressions or exhilaratingly anthemic choruses is what creates their signature sound. They are able to reach into the depths of sadness without coming across as melodramatic, just as they are able to scale the dizzying heights of pop elegance without coming across as too desperate for fame and fortune. These tendencies result in a sound that borrows neither too much from the past nor excess from the present, resulting in a sound that is fresh and engaging without being classified into the ridiculously flexible genre of art-rock. Two Dancers is a tremendous growth in development from Wild Beasts’ 2008 debut, Limbo, Panto, that sees the four-piece expanding upon a nostalgic sound that is revitalized by fresh pop hooks and an unforgettable voice that reminds us of a few musical treats from the decade of greatest excess, the ‘80s.

Falsettos have recently been tied to comedy or musical spoofs, with most artists too afraid of the delicate tactic to actually implement it into their sound. It seems to come natural for Thorpe though; he flawlessly flaunts it on practically every song. Like Antony and the Johnsons though, it is perfect for the style. “Hooting & Howling” contains just enough energy to show off Thorpe’s ability, but maintains the lush and relaxed composure of the general album with steady percussion and sporadic piano additives. Thorpe retains a sort of seductiveness that pertains more to the revolutionary performers of the ‘50s, even if the African-inspired percussion and thick guitar progression sound distinctively from within the past 25 years. This is him at his most upbeat, effortlessly eluding the stereotyping of melodramatic post-punk with a youthful, finger-snapping impression that prepares their style for a generation full of romanticized drama kings and queens. “When I’m Sleepy” or “All the King’s Men” is more apt for that sort, being more direct in their respective descriptions of death and desperation over mumbled vocals that weep and yelp over anguished guitar lines. The bass lines are subtler than typical post-punk, but the dramatics of the distorted guitars and weep-y vocals are still there, stuffed with pop-oriented theatrics that make the style more accessible for those somewhat opposed to the dramatics of Joy Division or The Cure. “We Still Got the Taste Dancing on Our Tongues” finds Thorpe’s most theatrical crooning uplifted by guitar tremolos and sprinkles of haunting keys that coincide with his vocals to craft a sound that is as elegantly uplifting as it is haunting and serene. And this is what Two Dancers is; it serves as phenomenal album that quickly follows up a debut to prove that Wild Beasts are more than clever stylistic imitators. Most importantly, it shows that they are great songwriters and producers in their own right, leading to the credibility of all forthcoming recognition.

——————————————————————————————

Wild Beasts – Hooting & Howling (video)

Download audio file (wbeasts-hoo.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Wild Beasts – All the King’s Men

Download audio file (wbeasts-all.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Wild Beasts – We Still Got the Taste Dancing on Our Tongues

Download audio file (wbeasts-wes.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

It is nice to see a talented artist receive recognition, even if it is in one of the dullest forms of advertising. Car commercials are possibly the most repetitive line of advertisements on television, with it being difficult to differentiate between brands due to their similar presentations: a car is driving along a road with some “hip” background music, usually followed by text or a booming voice attempting to sell its allure. The purpose seems driven toward audible and visual compatibility more than anything, so its generic tendencies are usually dominated by eye candy. As a result though, music plays an important role as it does with any form of visual-based advertising, having the potential to attract viewers that are not drawn to the repetitive visuals that encompass most car commercials. This is the single reason why the new Volvo XC60 commercial caught my eye, or more appropriately my ears. Over some simple footage, I heard a song that sounded familiar yet fresh and exciting. The vocals were so distinctive with their nasally elegance, lamenting over twinkles of synths and bursts of orchestral brilliance that sounded too irresistible for me to pass up. Its familiarity caused me to look up the song in the commercial, only to found out that it was someone who I had featured over two years ago. Not only had Volvo made me remember the name of a product I would have otherwise disregarded, but it also allowed me to stumble upon a new album from an artist I had featured, loved, and foolishly neglected following up on two years later.

As I wrote two years ago, Salem Al Fakir’s debut full-length, This Is Who I Am, was one of the most enjoyable albums of 2007. It was a debut that sounded like it was crafted with decade’s worth of experience, staying true to the clever vein of Swedish pop that the native Al Fakir appeared to flawlessly grasp. Even in that accessible realm though, the album showcased a wonderful display of worldly influences as Al Fakir successfully integrated soul, blues, and psychedelic-pop into a sound that could be most aptly described as orchestral chamber-pop with dabs of nostalgic throwbacks. Retro-y synths and showtune-like orchestral accompaniments often set the stage for large presentations that Al Fakir’s soaring voice and confident presence fit perfectly in. With most Swedish pop, the hooks were unavoidable and the style was appropriate. It is a difficult debut to follow up on, as there is such little to improve. But, unsurprisingly in regard to a musician of Al Fakir’s talented nature, he has accomplished something extraordinary by becoming more stylistically ambitious without sacrificing the accessibility of his earlier material. Al Fakir has cut off his last name from the release, but Salem’s new album, Astronaut, is unmistakably from the same talented artist that put out one of 2007’s best.

As Salem explores territory uncharted to him and most surveyors of pop, Astronaut is a fitting choice for a second album that finds Al Fakir resorting to a fuller sound that showcases his pop intellect more precisely and without hesitation. Also in accordance with the album’s title, Astronaut features many songs that are futuristic in their composure, whether they pertain to the evolving genre of dance or orchestral-pop. Since Salem already showed he could successfully interpret the ‘70s and ‘80s on his debut, it only makes sense for him to gravitate toward the future. Perhaps this is why Volvo was so enthused with his music. The song featured in their commercial, “It’s Only You, Part II”, blends minimalism with full-bodied orchestral experimentation, the former being present in the constantly rhythmic use of keys and the latter arriving in the song’s explosive chorus. Here, Salem beautifully erupts “I need to figure out how this can be so hard for me when it shouldn’t be,” over a boisterous chorus of strings. “To get you off my mind, it’s only you I think about.” The track seems to sparkle in grace as it plays, constantly evolving from its minimalistic basis to an intricately woven gem.

The narrative allure of “Astronaut” and “Black Sun Black Moon” retell similar stories of orchestral heartbreak, but apart from that Astronaut is a pretty excitable release that is dominanted by pulses of synths, heavy percussion, and even glam-rockers. “Twelve Fingers” mixes arena-rock with synth-pop, sporting an excellent bridge where an exotic synth line cohesively ushers in the subsequent guitars. “One of the Others” and “Bluest Eyes” both succeed in the realm of blue-eyed soul tremendously, with the latter’s country-ish twang being one instance of Salem’s tendencies to unconventionally mix and match different genres. Unlike most of the other tracks on the album, “Cold Shower” has no counterpart in its piano-pop. The dominance of keys and Salem’s flamboyant demeanor awakens comparisons to Elton John, and Salem’s undeniable ability causes “Cold Shower” to sound like a lost hit from the ‘70s. Just try and listen to the reggae-inspired chorus without grinning in delight. Another interestingly rewarding track is the phenomenal “Purple Lady”, a sprawling beauty of an effort that is also the most downtrodden on the album. The sheer darkness and oddness of the track seems to bring out a Stravinsky influence, either that or film music if Disney ever made a horror movie. One has to commend Salem for including a track this dark on an album full of excitable oddities in pop; this is a track that epitomizes Al Fakir’s ambitious strides.

Apart from the brooding orchestral ballads, blue-eyed soul, and synth-pop minimalism, Astronaut is even an album that contains some stylistic mockery. Its second single, “Roxy”, seems to take pride in its cheesiness. “I feel a burning sensation in the region below,” is how Salem begins the song, establishing its purpose in being more humorous than musically impressive. If you can remember how The Darkness spoofed ‘80s hard-rock then this should sound familiar, complete with the falsettos and predictable choruses. I am not sure why the weakest track musically on the album is being chosen as the second single, especially since showcases style that is distant from everything else on this fantastic release. The dramatic charges of synth in “Twelve Fingers” or the infectious indie-pop of “Mirror” would be more appropriate, as would the graceful “It’s Only You (Part II)” or the irresistible “Cold Shower”. Regardless, the only track lacking in complete and utter infectiousness on Astronaut is one that is intended purely as a mockery, providing indication of this album’s greatness. Al Fakir has followed up one of the best debuts of 2007 with an album that is undoubtedly one of 2009’s best. This is a must-buy for any fan of pop music; there is something on here for everyone. 8.5/10

——————————————————————————————

Salem - It’s Only You (Part II)

Download audio file (salem-its.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Salem - Cold Shower

Download audio file (salem-col.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Salem - Twelve Fingers

Download audio file (salem-twe.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY: iTunes, Ginza

——————————————————————————————

I don’t even know how to use it yet, but Obscure Sound is on Twitter here. Same thing as a RSS feed, I guess.

Another day, another elusive electronic artist from Sweden. It seems like I have come to expect the small country to dominate the realm of innovative electronic-pop, mainly due to its roster of impressive acts that show no hesitation to incorporate sampling and stylistic multifariousness into gorgeously intricate, yet accessible electronic music. Some Swedish artists, like Sally Shapiro and Pacific!, chose a throwback approach that capitalized upon the italo-disco explosion in Europe during the ‘80s. Others, like The Tough Alliance and The Knife, churned out a more modernistic style of electronic-pop that found its sentiments more rooted in updated techniques like sampling, genre manipulation, and the glorification of youth. I classify these groups rather broadly due to their separable enigmas; their success is independent of one another due to styles that are undoubtedly their own (even if they are occasionally indebted to styles of the past). One of the most buzzed-about Swedish groups last year was Air France, a group that took sampling and electronic-pop to extraordinary heights with an EP that retained its summer-y vibe similarly to that of another landmark electronic album from this decade, Avalanches’ Since I Left You. Its ability to incorporate sampling, irresistible pop hooks, and unconventional production techniques was echoed in Air France’s No Way Down EP, serving as an indicator of just how great Sweden has treated the emerging genre of sample-based electronic-pop since its emergence.

Despite consistent successes that range from Sally Shapiro to Air France, there is often a divide between throwback electro-pop artists and those that opt for modernisitically stimulating techniques like sampling in their sound. Both types of artists have shown tremendous staying power in Sweden and abroad, but there are not many artists that are able to simultaneously capture heartfelt nostalgia and contemporary sparkle in Sweden and elsewhere. To successfully infuse these two styles together would undoubtedly result in something big, as the buzz surrounding artists like Air France and Shapiro was big enough alone to warrant their reputable statuses. Perhaps it is a coincidence that most of these Swedish electronic artists play the shy card, leaving little personal information for fans to swallow and enjoy. A simple discography is often the only thing that coats their official site, as is the case with JJ. I admit that I have little information regarding this Swedish whiz, but what I can offer are a few tracks that show JJ as one of the supreme forces in current Swedish electronic-pop. With that in mind, it is no surprise that JJ sits aside similarly entitled artists like The Tough Alliance and Air France on one of Sweden’s best and most consistent labels, Sincerely Yours.

One aspect that artists on Sincerely Yours seem to share is a vibe that is distinctively reminiscent of summer. The Tough Alliance’s infusion of reggae into electronica on tracks like “Looking for Gold” or Air France’s sampling of ocean waves and childish laughter over spright synths certainly attributes to this, but both artists’ sense of capriciousness within an accessible and determinably innovative style is more responsible for this enjoyable vibe. JJ unsurprisingly captures similar sentiments, leaving little room for balladry or rockers with a presentation that sits in between the throwback pop of Sally Shapiro and the contemporary electronica of artists like Air France or The Tough Alliance. JJ’s new album, JJ N° 2, also explores territory that shows an appreciation for world music, evident in the African percussion in the aptly titled “From Africa to Málaga”or the twinkling allure of Afro-pop inspired vocal minimalism over the fluttering acoustics and keys in “My Love”. The expansion of horizons is one reason to enjoy JJ N° 2, but its primary allure is in the cumulative stylistic brilliance presented on the album. The vocals are almost always present, more reminiscent of throwback electronic-pop than . Here, though, it works wonderfully with female vocals that are lush enough to echo the Cocteau Twins but ardent enough to resonate within fans of Sally Shapiro or even ABBA.

When one combines the lush but ardent vocal performances of JJ with each and every song’s grace and beauty, it results in an album that will undoubtedly receive praise as one of the most accomplished electronic releases of the year. I am hard-pressed to call an album flawless, but the album’s faultless style and short length leave little room for mistakes. The 27-minute run time makes it seem too short, even though the nine tracks pack enough punch to keep listeners captivated for quite awhile. The opening “Things Will Never Be the Same Again” shows this off quite well, sporting strings and African-inspired percussion over twinkling keys to establish a glittering glimpse into a tropical paradise where only the inspired roam. For the less serious, “Ecstasy” is a cover of Lil’ Wayne’s “Lollipop” that finds JJ turning an excitable track into an ethereal and subdued experience; this is the type of cover that does not detract from the album one bit though, exposing JJ’s style as one that does not require specific cliches within the genre of ethereal electronic-pop in order to be successful. The reflective “Intermezzo” is also a deserving standout, truly serving to its name in being an instrumental that gracefully represents JJ’s style and presence as one that cannot easily be forgotten.

——————————————————————————————

JJ - Things Will Never Be the Same Again

Download audio file (jj-thi.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

JJ - From Africa to Málaga

Download audio file (jj-fro.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

JJ - Intermezzo

Download audio file (jj-int.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Sincerely Yours Records

BUY

Artists that write from a retrospective view often do it for good reason. It is a characteristic that can carry into their music, since reflecting upon one’s experiences with a modernistic mindset can provide aid for their struggles in the present. In the case of songwriters, artistic difficulties are encountered rampantly throughout one’s career regardless of their natural ability. Plenty of them have astounding potential, but an emphasized swagger and impatience can cause a disturbance in their artistic development. If an enlarged ego prevents them from reflecting upon past failures in addition to the triumphs then they will never move forward and develop fully as an artist. The name Barzin may sound foreign to most of you at the moment, but their newest release shows an artist that is wholly receptive to tackling past errors and altering them for the better. A mysteriously vague songwriter from Toronto, Barzin H. has been active since his group’s self-titled debut in 2003. He actually began writing material in 1995, but perfectionism did not allow the results to flourish until the following decade. Their debut was generally impressive, showcasing a fascination with minimalism and classical folk that seemed to beautifully complement Barzin’s ethereal vocals. His potential was blatantly evident, but the album seemed to lack the emotional depth that was intended for it. But, with Barzin as a retrospective songwriter, slight deficiencies simply gave him more material to derive his current strengths from.

Like most gifted songwriters with a knack for reflection, Barzin significantly improved upon his debut release by expanding his style of minimalistic folk into an empowering blend of indie-rock, chamber-pop, and country. My Life in Rooms, his 2006 follow-up, was melancholic like the debut. But the improvements were evident; the results were more polished and the songwriting contained clever maneuvering that made the results more unpredictable and, consequently, rewarding in a sense that most sadcore indie-rock acts strive toward. This vein of sadcore indie-rock – occupied by acts like Low, Red House Painters, and American Music Club – rewards a certain amount of emotional unpredictability, as varying ardency translates as a more realistic depiction of tragedy than melodramatics and inaudible weeping. This, along with an implementation of varying styles, allowed My Life in Rooms to flourish as a possible indicator of Barzin’s future. The release showed that he might be one of those rare songwriters, the ones that are too genuine to exploit the common emotions involved in break-ups, deaths, or other tragedies.

Barzin released another EP, Just More Drugs, in 2007 that featured re-done versions of My Life in Rooms tracks like “Just More Drugs” and “Leaving Time, but it proved to only serve as an appetizer for the main course, this year’s Notes to an Absent Lover. While not completely devoid of the somber material on his earlier releases, Barzin’s third full-length manages to inject a bit of optimism in his work to provide a cohesive balance between tear-soaked pillows and chin-up ideologies. The album’s thematic focus is still bleak, as most albums that deal centrally with break-ups are, but Barzin never attempts to exploit the topic with over-production or lyrical gripes. It would be easy to over-produce an album like this, with its wide assortment of strings and vibraphones, but Barzin instead opts for quality over quantity in building each of his songs up until additional instrumentation is beckoned for. Also, unlike the stereotype that surrounds most sadcore music, Barzin is not hesitant to tie in interweaving themes into his work. Notes to an Absent Lover is not all moping, it is an emotional journey where Barzin personally acquaints the listener with his pulsing emotional vibrancy.

“Nobody Told Me” is an apt way to open the album, basically serving as a metaphor for Barzin’s artistic growth from the time of his debut to the release of Notes to an Absent Lover. It begins somberly with nothing more than an acoustic guitar and piano, but its expansion into a full-grown accompaniment of strings, percussion, and electric guitars finds Barzin repeating one key phrase throughout the track, altering his emotional delivery each time out. “Nobody told me forgetting could be so hard,” is what he repeats, solidifying the album’s theme as he says it first in somber fashion before sounding somewhat triumphant over the gradual additions of strings. Melissa McClelland’s backing vocals are also a wonderful addition, giving the listener additional solace in Barzin’s empathetic delivery. Unlike his earlier releases, a track like this shows developmental expansion; Barzin now builds like these with the whole picture in mind, rather than simply one good idea.

“Stayed Too Long in This Place” touches the elegant moods of groups like Cousteau, placing a balmy mixture of pianos and strings as Barzin laments over the blame issued in a break-up, singing “I’m always in love, some days in despair, it’s always the same” over violins, viola, and a double bass. A perfect atmosphere for some bleak thoughts, just as Barzin intended. “Soft Summer Girls” is delicate in its instrumentation like the rest, but provides a reprieve from the typical content as Barzin instead nostalgically reflects upon the positive effects of relationships. And although he sings of times being passed and gone, he acknowledges love as a force that can aid one in life’s hardest battles. “They take me away from the one I used to know,” he sings, perhaps eluding to the outstanding capacity that Notes to an Absent Lover has to comfort those in tragedy and take them away into a realm of acceptance, emotional comfort, and quality music.

——————————————————————————————

Barzin - Nobody Told Me

Download audio file (barzin-nob.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Barzin - Stayed Too Long in This Place

Download audio file (barzin-sta.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Barzin - Soft Summer Girls

Download audio file (barzin-sof.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

June was an interesting month in terms of diversity. Not so much in the actual styles presented, but rather in the tone and polish of each differing delivery. This compilation was designed to present, in order, groups that show varying amounts of flexibility in their sound. Most artists here within the realm of indie-rock, but there are prevalent differences in their approach and philosophy. It begins with a polished psychedelic spectacle by Elephant Stone, followed by two similarly adjusted tracks by the excellent Mariage Blanc and the promising Mar Project. Caledonia brings listeners back to indie-rock normality, just like the breezy feel of Foreign Born’s effort. But before this pattern is continued, slightly more traditional efforts from Deer Tick (folk) and Lee Fields (soul) slow things down a bit in a satisfying way. Velan then brings us back to the summery indie-rock feel that Foreign Born previously introduced, and the compilation is concluded by two very young bands that specialize in lo-fi pop craftsmanship. These tracks differ in approach and method of production, but they also share a distinctive quality that makes them all quite memorable. The styles are present and effective, but it is the songwriting this month that should impress most prominently.

01. Elephant Stone - How Long (post)
02. Mariage Blanc - Marquee (post)
03. Mar Project - Stepping Stone (post)
04. Caledonia - Restless Year (post)
05. Foreign Born - Early Warnings (post)
06. Deer Tick - The Ghost (post)
07. Lee Fields & The Expressions - Ladies (post)
08. Chris Velan - Pauper in a Palace (post)
09. Let’s Wrestle - My Schedule (post)
10. Big Fresh - Large Crowds (post)

DOWNLOAD ENTIRE COMPILATION>>> (55.8 MB, .RAR)

There is a certain sense of stubbornness that, in some cases, can make a solo artist great. When gifted songwriters maintain their individuality, they tend to treat their influences as stepping stones instead of a basis for imitation. Unlike the band format, solo artists do not have to be held down by the vague intentions that derive from other members’ influences. The great bands blend their differences into one cohesive sound, but this is unfortunately in the rarest of cases. It is likelier that a band is torn apart by irrevocably subjective matters, like a preferred stylistic direction or the frequency of certain influences that may pertain to only one or two members. For a band to achieve greatness, the collaborative atmosphere must be open to new ideas and embracing toward each member’s taste. Otherwise, the quality will suffer due to indecision and the collaborative quality will be noticeably deficient. And then there are those artists that have ideas and influences so unconventional that finding a group of like-minded collaborators seems impossible. Consequently, they begin to pursue the music occupation on their own, with their high level of creativity and innovation actually serving as a detriment to their ability to successfully collaborate with other musicians.

This is a very common scenario that often decides whether a band without one driving force can be successful. Without one songwriter in complete control, it is a necessity to have members that are either similar in taste or intelligently receptive toward other ideas. The only way to avoid this is to ease oneself into a working environment with different members, gradually introducing new ideas as each member unknowingly acquires a new taste palette that allows them to work cohesively with the other members. Such is the case with Mariage Blanc, a six-piece from Pittsburgh whose ingenious collaborative tendencies are shown tremendously on their first release, Broken Record. They have been working on this seven-song EP since their formation last fall, and the result is nothing short of an extraordinary burst of creative energy within the generally recurring field of indie-rock. The group possesses two primary songwriters in Matt Ceraso and Josh Kretzmer, instantly demanding cohesive collaboration because of the split dynamic. Broken Record shows that they are both incredibly gifted songwriters with independent and collaborative ideas that serve as a representation of their gradual working relationship that is now complete and comfortable after some clever maneuvering.

Oddly enough, Mariage Blanc actually started out as a way to promote the separate solo projects of Ceraso and Kretzmer. Due to the difficulties of finding other members and slight artistic differences, the two Pitt graduates decided to release a split EP instead of forming a band together. The two had graduated from the same college, but had not began working together until after school through some mutual friends. The creative process surrounding this split EP was the fire that ignited the true form of Mariage Blanc, as Ceraso and Kretzmer grew more comfortable with one another’s taste, stylistic direction, and musicianship as the studio hours filled up. What was initially a way to split an EP together eventually became a full band with even fuller aspirations. Once the duo began learning how to truly work together, finding other members seemed easy. The others joined shortly thereafter, perhaps showing that it is a lot easier to find collaborators once one has already successfully collaborated with another that possesses ideas that are initially in slight contrast to one’s own. Mariage Blanc was put into motion from this point, and with the release of Broken Record they look to expand beyond the borders of Pittsburgh and into a national audience that should be very receptive toward their masterfully crafted indie-rock.

Mariage Blanc’s Broken Record shows a group that is simultaneously content with ‘60s pop and modernistic production. Wurlitzers, brass, synths, and strings complement the conventional indie-rock arsenal of guitars and rhythm to stir up a wonderful array of melodically rich songs, never lacking in hooks or fresh ideas. The overlapping vocal harmonies and big-time psychedelic choruses suggest a retro feel, but polished production and songcraft allow both the charm of nostalgia and preciseness of technology to exist within the same realm. “Marquee” starts off quite naturally with a rollicking guitar solo, tidied up into a simple progression once Ceraso’s serene vocals reflect a bouncy synth melody. The song often jumps between boisterous guitars and the quaint twinkling of keys and synths, the latter being best used around 02:03 when tremolos of strings signal an alteration in melody and stylistic direction (indie-rock exuberance to chamber-pop elegance). “Sunken Ship” is another excellent effort that features mariachi horns, strings, and guitars to a stunning effect, resulting in one of the most sweeping engagements on Broken Record. The EP’s opener, “Contrary to Popular Belief”, is mellower with its acoustic guitars, xylophone-like keys, and use of woodwinds, but it still packs the same emotional punch as “Marquee”. The vocals here whisper enticingly, creating an inviting atmosphere that succeeds because it attempts stylistic marvel without detracting from the substance. The cheery bursts of keys at the end are an excellent touch as well, wrapping up a gorgeous song that begins an excellent EP in Broken Record.

——————————————————————————————

Mariage Blanc - Marquee

Download audio file (mblanc-mar.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Mariage Blanc - Contrary to Popular Belief

Download audio file (mblanc-con.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

Mariage Blanc - Sunken Ship

Download audio file (mblanc-sun.mp3)

——————————————————————————————

MySpace

BUY