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)