The Pigeon Detectives--Wait For Me

Yet another face in the growingly crowded pack of English post-punk, The Pigeon Detectives’ debut full-length effort Wait For Me features the stereotypical Futureheads-esque guitar riffs and playfully brash British vocals. Formed in 2002 and made up of five near-life-long school mates, The Pigeon Detectives started their recorded career in 2005 with their 7” I’m Not Sorry. Wait For Me is their first LP, and comes in the wake of Maximo Park’s Our Earthly Pleasures, Razorlight’s self-titled sophomore effort, and The Futureheads’ News & Tributes. As all of those releases were (generally) well-received, so too will The Pigeon Detectives, who offer minimal variations on the British indie post-punk method. Achieving pop-pleasure along with antagonistic aggression, tracks like “Caught In Your Trap” are enjoyably fast-paced packages of English accents and distorted guitars. Matt Bowmans’ vocals are more easily digested than The Futureheads’ Barry Hyde’s razor-edged singing, which adds to the catchy atmosphere found within Wait For Me. Nowhere is this clearer than in their original single, “I’m Not Sorry.” A damnably catchy melody composed of whirlpool guitars and rhythmically repetitious vocals create an effect similar to that of The Arctic Monkeys, and one that could just as easily be applied to a dance floor. While like any album there are pockets of humdrumity in Wait For Me, the majority of tracks could be featured on any Apple commercial (“Stop And Go” and “You Better Not Look My Way” in particular inspired this thought). A melodious composure of pop, punk, and indie, The Pigeon Detectives’ Wait For Me is an light-hearted collage of the current British indie scene, picking and choosing influences like ingredients to some delicious stew. To any fan of the Arctic Monkeys, Razorlight, Maximo Park, The Futureheads, or even The Sunshine Underground—give The Pigeon Detectives’ Wait For Me a taste. It’s a stew that won’t disappoint.

(Published at ComfortComes.com)

Fireflies

Meet Lisle. He plays music. Good music. In his Portastudio. I fucking adore Lisle and his Portastudio. It’s as simple as that.

Under the moniker Fireflies, Lisle has produced some of the best lo-fi ‘80s inspired indie rock I’ve heard—like Belle and Sebastian on some marvelous ear-drug. This is the sort of wonderful MySpace find that comes along once a year, and I’m letting you in on my one big find. Born and raised in New England, Lisle played classical piano before moving to California where he began to record. Since then, he has moved to Chicago where he remains the premier best-band-you’ve-never-heard.

In every song Fireflies (interchangeable for Lisle himself since he is the lone member) crafts “a tiny snow-globe-sized universe” combined with influence from his classical days. Tracks like “Your Secret Code” are a perfect example, melding ethereal piano instrumentals with classical instruments like flute, all blended into a catchy yet haunting indie melody. I could be overflowing with joyous adjectives over the instrumentals alone, but the real capper is Lisle’s vocals. His graceful, soothing, introspective, whispered singing style could not be better suited to his tracks. These really are tiny snow-globes of sonic landscapes, lazily drifting below your dangling feet as you recklessly sail above the tundra below.

Touching, heart-breaking, and chilling all at the same moment, Fireflies’ lullaby “Les Belles Étoiles” could make you weep, quietly reflect, or simply cry out in joy—a quality most of his songs convey. These are the songs of lovers, deep dreamers, and escapists. Other tracks like the quiet love-story “Cherry Blossom Girl” travel through fascinating sonic landscapes while remaining humbly introspective, as if journeying throughout your own body. Fireflies is thus a very personal experience. Not a choice for dance-floors or get-togethers (unless your get-togethers compile sitting quietly and pondering the mysteries of the universe), this is the soundtrack of lonely nights, when rain and stars patter against your windows.

Beyond the tracks he has posted on his MySpace page, Lisle has a 7” single in the works. He has several previous releases of which he has limited copies, and carefully guards them until you ask nicely. Eternally modest and blisteringly amazing, Lisle and Fireflies will be your next lo-fi dream band. It’s as simple as that.

(Published at Shut Up Magazine)

Re-Smashing the Pumpkins

With all this talk of upcoming Smashing Pumpkins shows, and the new (awesome) track (“Tarantula,” found here), I’ve been breaking out all my old Pumpkins’ CDs (and there are a lot), and re-falling in love with the (arguably) best alternative band of the ‘90s. A play-by-play (or album-by-album) run-through that will maybe get you excited enough to break open your personal collection:

Gish (1991): To truly love this album, you have to understand the context around which it was released. Another (arguably) impressive album was to be released this same year. Nevermind would come out later in 1991, unfortunately shadowing Gish, which had more potential than would come to realization. A mix of grunge-era guitar grime, the buddings of the Pumpkins’ classic guitar stylings, and of course Corgan’s trademark soprano vocals. On the way to what we all think of when we think of the Pumpkins, Gish is an interesting look at what came before they were THE Smashing Pumpkins. Track picks: “Siva,” “Rhinoceros,” “Suffer.”

Siamese Dream (1993): This is THE album that made The Smashing Pumpkins who they are (or were, depending on your thoughts of the reunion). After succumbing to horrible depression, Corgan worked himself out of the hole by basically crafting this album by himself (and drummer Jimmy Chamberlin, so take that all you nay-sayers who don’t think Jimmy and Corgan can make a decent album). Debuting in the Top 10 charts with singles “Disarm” and “Today,” this is the album that let the Pumpkins take the headline-spot at 1994’s Lollapalooza—the tour that put even more pressure on an already dangerously unstable bond between band members. More drama was to come. Track picks: “Cherub Rock,” “Rocket,” “Mayonaise,” and “Geek USA.”

Pisces Iscariot (1994): Released to keep fans hanging on during the agonizingly long recording process that would give birth to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, this was an album of B-sides and discarded tracks from Siamese Dream. Track picks: “Hello Kitty Kat,” “Landslide.”

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (1995): Where Siamese Dream secured a spot for the Pumpkins in the current music scene, this blockbuster two-disc album placed them in a spot among the rock greats of all time. 28 tracks cover almost every human emotion possible, from rage/relationship woes (“Tales of a Scorched Earth,” “An Ode To No One (Fuck You),” “x.y.u.”), to youthful nostalgia (“1979”), to stalker-tendencies (“Lily (My One And Only)”), to simple melancholy (“Galapagos,” “Thirty-Three,” “Muzzle,” “Porcelina of the Vast Oceans”). Led by singles “Bullet With Butterfly Wings,” “Zero,” “Tonight, Tonight,” and “1979,” this removed all doubt as to the Smashing Pumpkins’ importance, and made a fan out of me. Track Picks: Everything I’ve mentioned, plus “Cupid de Locke,” “Bodies,” “Love,” and “Here Is No Why.”

Adore (1998): The album missing drummer Jimmy Chamberlin (who was recovering from a nasty drug/alcohol addiction that had taken the life of tour keyboardist Jonathan Melvoin and sent Chamberlin to the hospital), I truly believe Corgan saw this absence as an opportunity to experiment. Thus we have Adore, a soft, electronic-threaded album that was a perfect picture of a band moving on – past its former styles – much to the disappointment of those who wanted more of the Pumpkins on Siamese Dream and Mellon Collie. Adore died on the charts (at least compared to the rousing successes of the two previous studio-albums) and is now viewed with different opinions. To some it is the first step for Corgan on a road to bad music, to others (like myself) it is refreshing. The tracks are wonderful (albeit not as smashing as Mellon Collie) but most importantly it proves that the Pumpkins would never be stagnant. Despite all obstacles they would always be changing and experimenting. Just because Mellon Collie and Siamese Dream were hits didn’t justify playing that sort of music forever. (Keep this in mind when Zeitgeist is released). Track Picks: “Ava Adore,” “Pug,” “Crestfallen,” “The Tale of Dusty & Pistol Pete.”

MACHINA/The Machines of God (2000): What the hell is this album about? It’s a concept album if there ever was one, but Corgan didn’t stick around long enough to explain what the heck he was aiming for. Perhaps its better that way (perhaps). The album art included with this release is gorgeous and thought-provoking, as is the music. Again, not as cataclysmic as their previous chart-toppers, MACHINA/The Machines of God saw the departure of bassist D’Arcy Wretzky and the introduction of her replacement, former Hole bassist Melissa Auf der Maur. With this album Corgan also decided to end the Pumpkins. A good, mysterious album to end with, MACHINA will always sound a bit crazy and it will be interesting to see how they patch up the gap between this 2000 release and the coming 2007 one. Track Picks: “The Everlasting Gaze,” “Heavy Metal Machine,” “Raindrops + Sunshowers,” “I Of The Mourning.”

MACHINA II: The Friends and Enemies of Modern Music (2000): A final screw you to Virgin Records, The Smashing Pumpkins released this online album for bootleg download in September of 2000. Easily found today for download, it is compiled with new songs, reworks of MACHINA/The Machines of God tracks, and a few B-sides. Perhaps even better than MACHINA (perhaps), MACHINA II only adds to the mystique of the Pumpkins’ departure. If this is the first time you’re hearing about this album, you can pick it up here. Track Picks: “Cash Car Star,” “Lucky-13,” “Saturnine,” “Dross,” “Here's to the Atom Bomb (New Wave Version).”

Maybe I’ll get around to recommending some good singles and B-sides later, but this is probably enough to chew on for now. Pass the time between now and July 7th with the old albums you love. And if you’re missing any of these (especially MACHINA II), what are you waiting for?

White Rabbits--Fort Nightly

This reviewer has some competition. No matter what the quality of my writings and combination of words, I have been surpassed. Under the “Press” section of the White Rabbit’s website awaits fifteen reviews, all finely crafted and well-thought out—to an insane degree even. They are by Mrs. Doyle’s 8th grade class. Presented with two tracks from the White Rabbit’s debut album Fort Nightly, the 8th grade students were invited to write a quick review of the tracks. What they consist of is a harsh, fragmented sentence declaring that the tracks have “good rythm” (ah, our wonderful school system) but they “did not like the lyrics.” They are quite harsh, except for the indier-than-thou child arrogantly declaring that he/she has “definitely heard this song before.” Well, the New York group’s eerie take on indie rock may not be made for 8th grade ears, but they were surely made for mine. Not quite achieving the “honky-tonk calypso” style the group alludes to on their MySpace page, their music is none-the-less a deceiving mixture of creeping shadows and shouting ringmasters in a dirty 19th century circus. And you totally get what I’m talking about right? Tracks like “The Plot” are damnably catchy, but send a shiver down the spine. Whether it’s the scratchy yelps of the vocals or the unassuming instrumentals, the White Rabbits never quite let you feel comfortable within their den of rhythm. Like a non-drugged Ad Astra Per Aspera or more perky 20 Minute Loop, the White Rabbits reference some calypso influences in “I Used To Complain Now I Don't.” Their song titles allude to Decemberists (“March of the Camels,” “Navy Wives”) albums, but their music is a clear departure. Off-kilter, seemingly unplanned and always a delicious surprise, the White Rabbits’ debut Fort Nightly is a romp through dirty 19th century streets, elegantly decked-out whore houses, and Mrs. Doyle’s classroom of harsh 8th grade critics. What more could you ask for?

(Published at MusicEmissions.com)

Great Lakes Myth Society--Compass Rose Bouquet

Well known for their folk-rock-that-actually-rocks style, Michigan’s Great Lakes Myth Society has garnered a substantial fan base from their self-titled debut in 2005. Just as their first release delved into Midwest mythology and folklore utilizing a blend of folk, rock, and classic instrumentals, so too does their sophomore release Compass Rose Bouquet waltz through one’s ear. Much like The Elected or Band of Horses, Great Lakes Myth Society carries with them a folk-mentality and country-air influence, while still cranking out songs that lodge themselves inside your brain. Such is the case for “Heydeys” and “Debutante”, both composed by Timothy Monger whose tracks lean more heavily towards ear-pleasing pop. Blended in nicely with these bouncy tunes are James Christopher Monger’s folk tunes (i.e. “Summer Bonfire” and “Days of Apple Pie”) which sound more like a brighter Iron & Wine. By no means is this composure division set in stone, and the line between them is very blurry, yet this blending of styling’s separates Great Lakes Myth Society from other previously mentioned folk-rock indie acts. While their track titles and lyrics remind one of a Decemberists’ album (the folk sea-chantey “The Gales of 1838”, tales of whiskey and woe in “Queen of the Barley Fool”, and a Shins-like melody of love’s awkward beginnings in “Nightfall at Electric Park”), the vocal and instrumental styles are different throughout. Also, like their earlier debut, Compass Rose Bouquet is laced throughout with the presence of Midwestern forests and sleepy lakeshore plains. “Raindrops & Roses” plays with these themes brilliantly, and is a wonderful microcosm of the entire album. Folk vocals sing of “dew drops” and “going down with the rest of the mast”, all layered over instrumentals which blend classical elements of brass and acoustic guitar with electric guitar solos and catchy licks. It’s a delicate dance, but one Great Lakes Myth Society excels at. A fascinating step forward from Michigan’s Great Lakes Myth Society, Compass Rose Bouquet features well-developed songs with mystical lyrics that will certainly take their place as some of the best folk-indie of 2007. A must-have for fans of The Elected, The Decemberists, Band of Horses, Iron & Wine, and British Sea Power.

(Published in Soundcheck Magazine)

The Arctic Monkeys--Favourite Worst Nightmare

It really is hard to believe this is only the Arctic Monkey’s second album. With the monumental heaps of hype thrown upon these South Yorkshire boys, I was thoroughly tired of them before even placing Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not in my CD player. However hard NME may push the Arctic Monkeys as some sort of second coming, their music could never live up to the amassed publicity and buzz that preceded it (not to say Whatever People Say I Am was bad, it just fell short of preconceived notions). Now take it one degree further: add in the infamous sophomore-release complex. An unexpected, wildly popular debut is one thing, but backing that up with another fully digestible and well-liked release is tricky work. Did the Arctic Monkeys pull it off?

Yes…with a but, and a warning.

Favourite Worst Nightmare is more explosive than their debut from the word go. “Brainstorm” is a bitterly fast-paced guitar-laced dance-floor hyphen-fest, only pausing to grant Alex Turner and your ears a well-deserved breath before plummeting back into a indie-pop guitar thrashing. Back are tales of dance-floor romances youthful exploits, and (sort-of) farfetched dreams (“The kids all dream of making it / Whatever that means”). Tracks in general feel stronger and more abrasive. “Teddy Picker” has a very definite roller-coaster beat that interlaces much stronger Franz Ferdinand-like dance rhythms into the classic British pop-rock Whatever People Say I Am was riddled with. Yet again too, the songs are loaded to the brim and further with riddling lyrics, overwhelming instrumentals, and a rushing attitude that leaves one out of breath.

After a few introductory tracks, perhaps intending to prove that the Arctic Monkeys have lost none of their pop (of which “D Is For Dangerous” is included, a snappy scathing attack on “Favourite worst nightmares”), the Monkeys move into slower territory with “Fluorescent Adolescent” and the Shins-like “Only One Who Knows.” Just like the increased dance-influence, Favourite Worst Nightmare also includes such allusions to The Shins’ Wincing the Night Away (see “Phantom Limbs) which shows some welcome development in the Arctic Monkeys’ sound. These slower patches are only a bump in the road of guitar-filled thrillers such as “If You Were There, Beware” and “This House Is A Circus,” before ending with the damnably catchy bass of “Old Yellow Bricks.”

Favourite Worst Nightmare sounds enough like Whatever People Say I Am to still be the Arctic Monkeys everyone crooned over, but contains new punches as well—most of which redubs the group as even catchier than before. This could be dangerous, just as their triumphant debut was blasted out of the water with over-hyped praise, so too may this be killed in the minds of many before ever reaching their CD players and iPods. “Brainstorm” and “Old Yellow Bricks” are wonderful tracks to wrap your ears around and hit the dance-floor with—but not if the radio is cranking them 24/7.

The Arctic Monkeys out-do themselves in Favourite Worst Nightmare, will the media?

(Published at ComfortComes.com)

David Karsten Daniels--Sharp Teeth

I have a horrible case of judging books by their covers, or – more specifically – judging music by the artwork on the album case. For weeks I put off popping David Karsten Daniels’ new album Sharp Teeth into my CD player, only because the cover had a naked cartoon cave-man ripping the intestines out of a naked woman and stuffing them like so many sausages into his mouth. So…can you blame me? Well, whatever your opinion of cartoon cannibalism advertising music, this album was not what I was expecting from this particular cover. Soft and moving with an Iron & Wine mentality about it, Sharp Teeth is anything but…well, sharp. Introspective, emotional, contemplative, and modest, David Karsten Daniels’ fourth full-length since his 2000 The Mayflower debut is a soundtrack for quiet evenings. Tracks like “Universe of No Parts” and “American Pastime” are waltz-affairs, slowly sauntering across sonic landscapes with bittersweet instrumentals riding beneath Daniels’ (and a whole assemblage of other vocal talents’) eerily melancholy lyrics. Quirky at times, deeply thoughtful at others, Sharp Teeth feels purely organic and intimate, without layers of studio-work separating the listener from the raw songwriting talent of Daniels. “Jesus and the Devil” is a simply-spun tale with deeper ramifications, hinting towards religious confusion and misdirection—perhaps becoming a commentary on the modern Christian church by the end. Other tracks like “Beast” and “Scripts” have a distinctly southern-taste to them, almost like a simpler Iron & Wine, or slower moving Jose Gonzalez. Impressive instrumental landscapes are crafted by the long list of musical talents credited for aiding Daniels in the production of this album, including instruments from trumpets to mellotran. Most prominently though, is Daniels’ wonderful vocal abilities and songwriting skills. Sharp Teeth is a somber collection of intimate tracks. They burrow into your mind and bring you with, even if at times you feel dragged along by the pace of it all. So overcome the barrier that is the feasting figures on the cover of Sharp Teeth, and sink your own incisors into David Karsten Daniels’ newest work.

(Published at MusicEmissions.com)

Praise the Twilight Sparrow--Praise the Twilight Sparrow EP

Praise the Twilight Sparrow is an act misted in delicious mystery and intrigue. Playing in the strain of “any truth teller” and imitating the sound of “self-made mythologies,” the DIY vibe practically gushes from the band. Made up of a fluctuating number of members from nations as diverse as France, the Netherlands, and the US—the group’s sextet core comes from Europe and most recently ripped out their other-worldly folk at SXSW. The Texas music-fest is no new ground for Praise the Twilight Sparrow either, the Dutch members played there in 2003 under the guise of Templo Diez, and then in CMJ 2006. Indeed, while Praise the Twilight Sparrow is a new name on the indie scene the faces behind the getup are well-worn veterans. That quality can be felt on their first EP, a forerunner to a promised full-length later in the year. The four-track self-titled EP is graced with eerie spoken vocals, pacing about in the backdrop of ghostly acoustic instrumentals. Pascal Hallibert’s calmly seducing vocals are the perfect crown to Praise the Twilight Sparrow’s style, singing in a near-breakdown cantillation. Even the acoustic twangs in the opening track “Get There If You Can” ring with an ethereal smack, spinning about Hallibert’s half-drunken lyrics. The intergalactic quality of the instrumentals remind one of Brightback Morning Light, which share the dreamy, half-dazed effect Praise the Twilight Sparrow use so brilliantly. A lo-fi, Mountain Goats-like recording style is revisited in “The Ghost Tonight,” which opens with an Armageddon spewing preacher before descending into melancholy acoustic rhythms. “South of No North” and “On Our Way” close the EP, the former more straight-edged country/American tracks in which Hallibert sounds more focused, the latter an acid-trip in itself. Deliciously dark – like an acoustic Pink Floyd hiding a body in the closet – Praise the Twilight Sparrow pull the listener in with the grimy mystique of their sound. Polished enough to hold meaning, yet rough enough to entice the DIY-lovers (and allow much room for improvement), this hodge-podge of European and American artists have crafted something dazzlingly beautiful. If Praise the Twilight Sparrow can further evolve upon this sound, their coming full-length will be a must-own of 2007.

(Published in Soundcheck Magazine)

The Domus

Sweden is the location of the new music gold rush. That much is clear from bands like Peter Bjorn and John, 120 Days, The Concretes…the list goes on. Add The Domus to that list. Named after Sweden’s Wal-Mart (Domus), the quintet comes straight out of Eskilstuna, Sweden. Like a downbeat Hellogoodbye or an upbeat 120 Days, The Domus combine electronica grooves with radio-friendly themes and lyrics, much in the same way as The Postal Service or Broken Social Scene. Interestingly, Domus was originally an acoustic backdrop for vocalist Stefan Juhlins’ song-writing capabilities back during their 2003 genesis. Instead, we’re left with an electronica style that – when combined with Juhlins’ pop-friendly vocals – is deliciously digestible. After this pre-life identity crisis, Domus quickly gained a loyal following in their hometown, eventually play 50 shows in 2005 with the likes of Jettie, We Are Scientists and Karl Larsson. Their recently-released debut Fractures, much like Phoenix or Genesis, tout incredibly catchy tracks like “Pull Your Strings” and “The Observer,” both of which contain an irresistible youthful mood. Awkward romances, summer nights, driving nowhere as fast as possible—the sunny days of youth unfold before the blips and beeps of The Domus. Wonderfully mixed stringed instruments are layered in over the electronic effects in songs like “Arkansas.” Working as-if with a chip on their shoulder, The Domus constantly remind their listeners that they have literally stumbled upon this style, and they are by no means pretentious Europeans. Even if they were, I wouldn’t care. Their music is damnably catchy, no matter what kind of personalities lie behind the angsty lyrics and bittersweet melodies. Relentlessly harsh on themselves, Fractures

is an album of perfection—where every second of every song has been meticulously pondered over. The Domus are a band of hard-working professionals just finding their feet. Get on the band-wagon now, before it gets too crowded—because it will soon enough.

(Published in Shut Up! Magazine)

The Lonely Hearts

The oh-so-twangy snap in Will Holland’s voice says it all: The Lonely Hearts are pure Americana. Complete with squeaky sliding acoustic instrumentals and bittersweet-with-a-smile themes, this Nashville four-some are straight-shooting guitar pop. Originally dubbed Holland, the group played a pop-version of emo melodies in their 2003 release Photographs & Tidalwaves. While fans struggled to classify the blended sound (with descriptions as far reaching as Foo Fighters to straight-up nada surf), Holland switched monikers to The Lonely Hearts. Their Lonely Heart debut full-length, Paper Tapes, was released last year filled to the brim with earnest wistful pop melodies delicately complemented by Holland’s stereotypical Southern drawl. Just about everything composing The Lonely Hearts is stereotypical really. The vintage guitar effects, the sunny light lyrical content, not a lick of The Lonely Hearts is unique or brand-new…and frankly with a vast pool of other acts throwing new tricks into every other second of their music, it’s refreshing and relaxing to stumble across a band who stick to what’s tried and true. Paper Tapes is as tried and true as they come, featuring songs like the blistering country-track “Love Comes Quickly” and similarly styled “Good Intentions.” Much like The Wallflowers, Neil Young, or the Gin Blossoms (and Bob Dylan when Holland’s voice hits a particular cracked-twang), The Lonely Hearts play a well-worn version of Americana/country-rock, and come out smelling like daisies. Christian themes found throughout their music have also gained The Lonely Hearts a considerable church-rock following. While their self-comparisons to Neil Young and the Beatles may be farfetched, its clear The Lonely Hearts do deserve some credit for chasing after their influences ruthlessly, and sounding damn good in the process. They may be no Beatles, but the summery melodies and twangy guitar instrumentals make The Lonely Hearts a damn good pick.

(Published in Shut Up! Magazine)

The Killing Moon

Not quite ska, not quite emo, The Killing Moon edge the lines of genres—choosing to dip their toes into a variety of pools instead of committing to a swim in just one. Most obviously post-punk, the quintet from Hampton, Maine also adds in flavors of brass effects such as trombone (supplied by Dan Lafayette) and baritone sax (Chris Michaud). With slices of screamo vocals here and there as well, The Killing Moon clearly dabble with ska within their tracks. However, A Message Through Your Teeth – an EP teaser from Fearless Records released last year – has much more of a classic punk-pop feel. The songs are more accessible, and Ryan Hannan’s vocals keep the screaming to a minimum—preferring saddened angst ridden lines instead. Rousing, smooth, and passionate, The Killing Moon offer a delicious blend of ska and emo threads, with the punk influences dominating their melodies—much like Dynamite Boy, Less Than Jake, or No Doubt. For this, The Killing Moon comes off smelling strongly of mainstream post-punk. If weren’t for their injection of brass instrumentals, their tracks would explore over-trodden territory and come off dull. That said, the brass section tends to be left behind. Too often in songs like “Subject A” and “Postcard from Los Angeles” does the trombone and sax feel like afterthoughts, added in after the rest of the song was completed. Instead, the rousing guitars and Hannan’s despairing vocals take the show. And is that so bad? Well, if you’re looking for a scything ska experience, it is. If not, then The Killing Moon remains a vibrant and melodic experience in the spirit of Senses Fail. A Message Through Your Teeth was released March of 2006, with promises of a full-length later that year. Still no word from the Hampden rockers on that front, but fortunately they’re on the road playing occasional shows across the country. Let’s hope The Killing Moon get some new material out soon—there is a heap of potential within the tracks of A Message Through Your Teeth, and The Killing Moon have a chance to become a major name. (Published in Shut Up! Magazine)