MONDOmagazine

N.E.R.D.
Seeing Sounds
Interscope, 2008

By Sajae Elder

In 2002, when N.E.R.D. released their debut album, In Search Of…, for the second time, it was damn near flawless. The reworking with live instrumentation by the band Spy-Mob gave it a new edge, since the core members (Pharrell Williams, Chad Hugo and Shay Haley) stated they didn’t have time to play live for their debut album. Unfortunately, the group stumbled through their sophomore release, Fly or Die, to much less critical acclaim.

Luckily, the former high school band geeks have been working on their playing chops for Seeing Sounds. While Pharrell provides lead vocals and piano and shares the drums with Shay, Chad plays lead guitar and a pretty mean saxophone. Also, aside from their usual hip hop/rock/soul/funk fare, the band did some crate digging in the drum ‘n’ bass section.

The album is based on the idea that when your sense of hearing is taken away, you can still understand music with your other four senses, though mainly with sight. Somehow this inspires songs that play out like three-minute stories and touch on subjects such as the state of the world, being a peeping tom, friends with benefits, and girls who can’t take a hint.

As with their previous work, the band steered clear of the formulaic synth and bassline-heavy sound perfected by members Williams and Hugo in their production work as The Neptunes, favouring a far more colourful and eclectic palette of largely rock-inspired songs. Standout tracks like “You Know What” channel lead singer Pharrell’s inner-soul god, and Chad’s penchant for producing funk-laden beats shines through. “Sooner or Later” is on the edgier end of the album’s spectrum, with guitar riffs lacing between Pharrell’s purposely off-kilter falsetto. The jazzy “Yeah You” sounds like somebody pissed off Thelonius Monk, with bitter yet brilliant results.

Lyrically, you either love the imagery or you hate it. Or don’t get it. While most succeed, the metaphors on “Love Bomb” sound like the awkward ramblings of someone getting high for the first time. But if the chorus of “Anti-Matter” doesn’t get stuck in your head, you have a brain made of Teflon.

Although Seeing Sounds has minor drawbacks, N.E.R.D. continues to seamlessly fuse genres into one all their own, and this album delivers. Gym Class Heroes, take notes.

Elephant9
Dodovoodoo
Rune Grammofon, 2008

By Allana Mayer

Elephant9, yet another side-project-slash-collaboration-slash-new-artistic-venture from the Rune Grammofon collective, is a trio gone wild on organ and LSD. Dodovoodoo, their first recording after a few years of live touring, managed to capture (on tape, no less) the sweat-flinging exuberance their performances reportedly consist of. As you can probably imagine, jazz plus live improv plus tons of energy plus a reputation for the unconventional equals a continuous stream of music with many variations on the same theme, rather than an album of concretely separate tracks.

The first and title track is a tossup of Beefheart, Acid Mothers Temple, and other Grammofon influences (Supersilent, The National Bank, and Shining are represented by keyboardist Ståle Storløkken, bassist Nikolai Eilertse, and drummer Torstein Lofthus, respectively). The band explodes out of the gates with Shining-like energy, improvised organ bits, ridiculous cymbal use, and a bizarre, jerky, groovy refrain. The second, “I Cover The Mountaintop,” slows everything down to a Supersilent tempo, with Supersilent’s machine wail and abstract drumming to boot. Rather than build into the trademark doom-knell, it develops into a fairly well-structured jazz tune and brings back that psychedelic energy.

Elephant9 works in this general area with moderate success until the sixth track, “Doctor Honoris Causa,” when they slow back down to more minimalist territory for thirteen minutes of wicked dynamics and impressive self-control. The sound gets more intelligence: stronger refrains get used as launching points for more interesting bits of improv. The album fades out on this note, as closing song, “Directions,” adds another seven minutes of guitar-feedbacking, pitch-twisting, wave-riding soundscapes.

You can tell that Dodovoodoo is but a foreshadow of yet more amazing live shows, less an album than a calling card. And once again I’m pouting, because I can’t afford to fly overseas to catch the full intensity of this group before they inevitably embark on new projects.

By Quincy Jones

I first crossed paths with Evren a couple years back at a friend’s place —  a low-key Friday night of spinning records. He was passing through on a mission: to walk around Queen West with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a camera, trying to get people to reveal their most embarrassing moments. He got mine.

Evren’s rhymes are often politically charged; his beats and melodies often incorporate his Turkish roots. His work as an artist, writer, and producer has led to the release of two independent albums — Conflict of Interest (2002) and Unknown MC (2004) — earning him credits on many international compilations including with MGM Australia, Sony, and Universal Music Canada. He has also had enormous success writing and producing music for national advertising campaigns by Telus, Nike and Toyota, as well as developing original tracks for TV shows such as Instant Star, Degrassi: The Next Generation, and Billable Hours.

We caught up recently and he couldn’t resist the chance for an interview.

MONDO: So E, let’s just start at the beginning: what got you into music in the first place?

Evren: Definitely my mom. She had a vast collection of LPs: funk, soul, jazz, rock, and pretty much every genre available at the time.

MONDO: How long have you been at this, then?

E: I first started rhyming at the age of 13. I remember a DJ friend of mine who lived in our building at the time told me that he was gonna start making beats. He was almost seven years older than me, and had been spinning records for quite some time. I was a hip hop dancer then, dancin’ at parties and events and such, and I told him, if he starts makin’ beats, then I would start rhymin’ and soon enough he had bought a sampler, and shortly after that I wrote my first song called “Sad Song.” I made my first beat using his gear within two years of that, and have been writing lyrics and music ever since.

MONDO: So describe your style/vibe?

E: It depends. It’s kind of a hard thing to define as I do a lot of different types of music and projects. I write songs for other artists as well as for myself — but for my own songs, the ones I perform, I would describe it as hip hop for the masses. Music for all people — a bit of party, a bit of deep thought, a bit of humor —kind of a well-rounded style that remains true to who I am as a person and artist.

MONDO: How has your Turkish background influence your music?

E: I was born in the city of Istanbul, but came to Canada when I was ten-months old, so I pretty much grew up here. Musically, I’d say it has influenced me in a big way. Rhythmically and melodically, Turkish music has always been a big part of my life, lending itself to play a big role in a sound I would later define as my own. I used to sample my parents’ records, finding the best samples that no one else had access to. My friends used to be, like, “Lemme guess — another Turkish sample!”

MONDO: What’s you favorite place to perform in Toronto?

E: I’ve played at a number of places in the city. The Reverb, the Kathedral, Healey’s, Lee’s Palace, Super Market, the Gladstone and many more — to date, though it’s not one of my favorite venues, I’d say the sound, both on and off stage, at The Drake Underground was one of the best places I’ve played. I’ve had a number of great shows at all kinds of venues, but for T.O. I’d have to stick to the Minority/Rhymestone show at the Drake Underground.

MONDO: And who are your biggest musical influences?

E: Naturally hip hop — everything from ‘91 to ‘94 had a huge impact on me in regards to hip hop. I’m a huge Tupac fan — but there were so many wicked artists from the time. Tribe Called Quest, NWA, the Ghetto Boys, Eric B and Rakim, Busta Rhymes, Dr. Dre, Snoop, Souls of Mischief, the Fugees, and the list goes on and on. My favorite artist of all time, hands down, would have to be Bob Marley. Musically, his songs are complete to me. So to answer the question, anything with a happenin’ groove, including Marvin Gaye, Diana Ross, Led Zeppelin, the Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, the Meters, Gloria Gaynor.

MONDO: What annoys you the most about the Toronto scene?

E: I’d say what troubles me most with the hip hop scene in Toronto is how disconnected we all are as artists and producers. People are into reppin’ one part of the city and not the other, and that can only keep us divided as a unified music scene. There is so much talent here, yet crowds at shows can be so standoffish when it comes to supporting local talent. It seems people here only support there own once they’ve been validated in another city, like New York, or LA, or London — that will always be an issue that hinders our growth as a scene. Once we learn to support our own, only then will we begin to grow as a scene and create enough of an environment that makes people wanna stay here and become successful. That’s what bugs me the most about The Toronto hip hop scene.

MONDO: What do you love about rap?

E: I love all of it! The beats, the samples, the grooves, the rhyme and flows! All of it! I love the amount of info you can jam-pack into the lyrics and the way you can take any ordinary topic and make it sound awesome with the right rhymes. I love the attitude and energy you can express with it — the passion, the power, the anger, the love — I love how I can understand the lyrics to every rap song I’ve ever heard, like it’s another language. Seriously, I really do love it all.

MONDO: What projects do you have on the go?

E: I currently have a record what has just been completed entitled I Think Not, which will be available in the fall of 2008. Two of the songs on this album have already been featured in advertising campaigns, the song “The One” for a Telus spot, and the other song, “Do I Go,” which was featured on a Toyota Matrix spot. I’m really excited about this record and I hope that people dig it as much as we do. Many more records to make and I hope to keep working with artists as talented as the ones I’ve had the pleasure to work with.

MONDO: Cheers ya E!

E: Peace, Q!

Times New Viking
Rip It Off
Matador, 2008

By Beej

The NME gave eight stars out of ten to this mess of a lo-fi album. If nothing else, Rip It Off makes me wonder how out of touch I really am. Feedbacking guitars, basic drums, lacking vocals, and possibly terrible lyrics (the ones I can actually understand are pretty bad), all recorded through what sounds like a webcam mic, create this mindless swath of abrasive nonsense.

Think The Beatles Live at The Star Club recording quality with incomplete and uninteresting songs. Keep in mind, of course, that Star Club had very little major label interest at the time the owners were trying to release it, and that was The Beatles doing established hits. Sadly, Rip It Off makes me not in the slightest bit curious who Times New Viking are. I was obliged to find out, but you aren’t. My advice is to save yourself the energy.

Right from the opening “notes” of Times New Viking’s latest release, I knew I wasn’t going to like it, and I think you won’t, either. The opening track “Teen Drama” is structured around two notes and five words, none of which can be discerned easily, a badly organized mess of a song. “My Head” opens with what sounds like Noel Gallagher on rhythm guitar over the main hook of the song, which is sung by Times New Viking’s vocal duo of Beth Murphy and Adam Elliot. The vocal melody is similar to a schoolyard taunt (e.g. “nana nana na na you are a dumb-head!”) and its effect is every bit as hurtful to a sensitive soul.

“Rip Allegory” reminds me of DD/MM/YYYY with cheap mics, no writers, and a less talented drummer. No point in going any further. One minute and eleven seconds of junk. Fourth track “The Wait” has more of a “song structure” and shows a writer with promise, so long as they’re willing to invest in some recording time at one of Columbus’ many professional studios.

One track, titled “Drop-out,” is a surprise amongst the rest of the tunes. Great little melody, simple structure, and an energetic feel. I am in real danger of liking this song. Luckily, the rest of the songs add nothing to this momentary lapse in irritation. Overall this record is a terrible waste of a boombox’s external microphone and three unremarkable musicians’ efforts.

Bodies of Water
A Certain Feeling
Secretly Canadian, 2008

By Crow Winters

The Bodies of Water website claims that the band’s sound “draws from a number of disparate traditions, combining the metaphysical intensity of gospel, the primitive gusto of punk rock, the earnest idiosyncracy of American folk, the sonic inclusiveness of tropicalia, the planned jamming of prog, and the sincere melodrama of musical theatre.” Needless to say, that’s a mouthful, and, if the new record A Certain Feeling is any indication, a pretty big dressing-up of what is essentially simple 4/4 indie prog rock.

A Certain Feeling manages the alarming feat of sounding both overworked and technically unimpressive. Which isn’t to say that the band’s self-proclaimed trump card of gospel-inspired multi-tiered vocals don’t lead way to some disarmingly beautiful moments scattered throughout the record. Opener track “Gold, Tan, Peach and Grey” starts out with a bass-and-vocal choir that reminds me of a simpler spiritual cousin of “Autumn’s Child” by Captain Beefheart —certainly not a bad thing to be compared to. Unfortunately, as is the problem with most of the record, by the time the song’s true buildup starts, the band stops trying. Although all the songs move through several distinctive parts during their six-minute-plus running time (on average), certainly a feature of prog’s more complicated entries, nearly all of them are simple regurgitations of indie-rock clichés. It’s hard to even compliment the arguably gospel-inspired harmonies when they are so often shouted as anthems over forgettable chord rock.

It’s the kind of stuff that I’m sure makes for great live shows — the energy here is obvious, so it’s a shame that the poor songwriting detracts from the band’s enthusiasm. The songs that should cause a frenzied rush in the listener fall flat on record, due to a lack of editing and incredibly unimaginative production qualities. To balance out the “rockers,” the band has included some directionless dirges such as “Only You,” “The Mud Gapes Open,” and “Keep Me On,” which are the closest things to musical Xanax I’ve heard in a long time. I can’t even comment on the lyrical quality of most of the album because I lost hope after the female vocalist groaned, “In my eyes/Only you,” and variations thereof for four minutes.

One of my favorite moments on the record is the breakdown near the end of “Even In A Cave,” because the band drops its self-important faux-gospel and focuses on the actual music, and the effort shows. In future releases I expect songwriting of this quality and interest, because in my eyes, they can only improve.

Odd Nosdam
Pretty Swell Explode
Anticon, 2008

By Allana Mayer

New album Pretty Swell Explode, of remixes and remakes, has given me the temptation to call Odd Nosdam the indie-rock cousin of Girl Talk. That is, he recombines and warps, but with much more obscure material. I’m not saying it’s a truly valid comparison, but I doubt anyone would fault me for trying. Sure, the world has gone remix-crazy, but not many DJs are quite so mad-scientist about the process.

Odd Nosdam, a.k.a. David Madson, originally paired up with Why? frontman Yoni Wolf and Subtle propmaster Adam “Dose One” Drucker to not only release albums as cLOUDDEAD but found Anticon Records, now a one-stop source for white-boy hip hop, breaks, and rap-pop. While the three no longer collaborate for cLOUDDEAD, they constantly compete for publicity by releasing album after album of innovative, mould-breaking music. Odd Nosdam’s previous creations range from two-instrument experiments, drone opuses, and found sound collages. Getting a remix album out of this dude is somewhere between an admission of guilt (“I can’t help it — I like pop music”) and a patronizing handout (“For once I will obey your sad little conventions of arrangement”). I’ll take it either way.

The intense, post-apocalyptic (or “blasted”) remix of Serena-Maneesh’s “Don’t Come Down Here” caught my attention first: the doomsday beats, pitch-twisted riffs, cello, and stretched-out vocal growls turn the pensive, hypnotic original inside out. He completely rips apart Hood’s oeuvre for the tribute “(Growin’ Up in the Hood) Four Thousand Style” and reassembles it, plus offers slightly less destructive reclamations of tracks from other Anticon labelmates Alias and Thee More Shallows. I’d consider it disrespectful if he hadn’t already won me over.

Several Boards of Canada tracks also make the cut, as does a cover of “Forever Heavy” by Black Moth Super Rainbow (I call it a cover rather than a remix because he actually recreates the song, with help from Jel and Jessica Bailiff). But original track “Hollow Me” is one of the strongest cuts on the album, showing that Odd Nosdam doesn’t really need to look further for sonic fodder than his own twisted imagination.

Ratatat
LP3
XL, 2008

By Bryan Hopton

With Ratatat’s third LP, the cleverly titled LP3, we were told that the music would be a little less reliant on riffing. For a lot of people that was like saying, “We’re not paying attention to the electronic music world right now and feel that we’d probably sell more albums if we sounded like Justice or something.” Thankfully for us, the boys seem to have forgotten about that little misstep. Or, at least, they’ve not yet walked away from the guitars entirely.

LP3 doesn’t use the guitar to the same effect that made songs like “Seventeen Years,” “Desert Eagle,” or “Loud Pipes” instant dance floor rockers. Instead, they employ quick bursts of noodling here and there to augment the music for a few seconds at a time. That isn’t to say that the album is without its fair share of awesome riffage, it’s just that the emphasis on said riffage seems to have been pushed back to make room for a more robust sound palette. This is all well and good, but the actual songs are what make this a good album, not the new sounds they were shooting for. The boys have moved on from their party-starting earlier work and are experimenting with more of their influences.

“Mirando” picks up with a jumpy dancehall beat, a plinking banjo, and ’80s-rooted licks backed by glittery, shimmering synths. The track stands out as one of the strongest on the album, and one of the best from their entire career. “Bird Priest” is classic Ratatat: with its thudding beat and dueling guitars, it’s another of the better songs on the album. “Shempi” is more or less guaranteed to find its way into DJ sets this year. It conjures up disco, French house and the current trends in dance music with its crisp percussion, heavily processed guitar, and glitzy keyboards.

“Flynn” is a short trip into reggae or ska territory that works well within its brief playtime, while the heavily Eastern-tinged “Mi Viejo” ends long before it has a chance to really pick up. There was room for something truly grandiose and epic; instead, they just kill it off.

I’ll stop here, but I could easily detail how good I think each track is. Ratatat has risen above the limitations of their past releases to produce what is easily the best album of their career so far. For those who were fearing that they were a one-trick pony with the release of Classics, here’s your evidence to the contrary. This is easily one of the best albums I’ve heard this year.

Skyphone
Avellaneda
Rune Grammofon, 2008

By Allana Mayer

Skyphone’s minimalist adventures are over. While the delicacy of their productions remains intact, the Danish trio has edged further from twinkly and moved closer to clunky on sophomore album Avellaneda.

Their looping melodies used to simply suggest rhythms, but now they’ve actually got rhythm tracks. By that I mean they’re incorporating traditional percussion sounds as a baseline, rather than just timing more organic sounds with inorganic precision. It’s most clearly evidenced on album opener “Cloudpanic,” but is less pronounced on the rest of the disc.

Skyphone teeters on the edge of what abstract means: always perfectly structured, almost too left-brain for the creative types. Tracks like “Schweizerhalle” incorporate a slow fade from guitar-picking to knob-twiddling over five minutes, like nothing could ever be so natural. It must be hard work making this look so easy.

Still, like a 200-pound man trying to pirouette, Avellaneda has an awkward and touching grace, a brilliant mix of acoustic and electronic, like what steampunk was trying to be before they got distracted trying to combine mohawks with top hats. The preciousness of their work competes for attention with your own awareness of the intelligence required to produce it. Even the uncompromisingly cheesy ending to “Dream Tree Lemurs” is endearing rather than annoying.

Though the press release states nothing about Avellaneda’s newfound sense of rhythm, and in fact plays up its digressions into more abstract territory, I think the result is a more coherent package, a more clearly defined idea of what Skyphone is and does. Their sound is undeniably theirs, and it’s a damn good one.

Wolves and Wishes

Dosh
Wolves and Wishes
Anticon, 2008

By Allana Mayer

Martin Dosh first amazed me with his one-man-band-ness, as I’m sure he did many, when opening for and assisting Andrew Bird on many tours. His energy and passion, when layering multiple instruments into complex songs, were a treat to witness, as though watching a child slowly put together a fantastical Lego city wherein all his fantasies would come to life. Dosh’s music is touching, almost family-friendly, while still maintaining an eclectic and curious vibe. As such, I was fully prepared to adore new offering Wolves and Wishes, especially upon first listen, when my brain immediately brought up comparisons to The Books and Caribou.

First track “Don’t Wait for the Needle to Drop” starts with off with the requisite bang, a driving shuffle, an urgency. “Capture The Flag” resuscitates that same beat as the album closer, with more nervous caged energy and some ticklish woodwind work. Yet two delicious tracks do not a great album make. What’s in the middle? A whole lot of forgettable, that’s what.

While I’m reluctant to talk shit about what I regard as Dosh’s scrupulous precision and attention to detail, I think he’s too indiscriminate about his instruments, choosing to let them collide into each other and sprawl in a mess, rather than prioritize a few and reduce others. And his dissonant and discordant sounds seem too much like token efforts to keep himself on one side of the pop spectrum.

Sorry, did you say there were famous people on this record? Sure, Will Oldham, the aforementioned Mr. Bird, some old friends from when Dosh drummed for Fog, and a handful of others puff up the album’s prestige. Yet their contributions aren’t often more than soft humming, quiet wailing, and shots of violin here and there — hardly distinguishable from the rest of the clamour.

Sure, it’s passionate and fascinating, but only for short bursts of time. I wouldn’t call it engaging by any means — it’s actually quite hard to write this review about it, because I know I have other new albums clamouring for my attention. Albums that might actually click. The ultimate fault of Dosh is not his own, because many reviews on this here interweb will disagree with me, but that Wolves and Wishes simply hasn’t clicked with me. It might with you, especially if you found it easy to digest his earlier work, or that of Four Tet and Caribou. I really hope it does click with you, in fact: I sincerely hope that Dosh’s albums don’t become the ones that everyone buys but nobody listens to.

But seriously, guys, it’s just layering.

Johnny Dowd
A Drunkard’s Masterpiece
Bongo Beat, 2008

By Brent Wilson

I’ve long believed that songs about love and lust — or whatever variation thereof you have in mind — are generally their best at their most direct. No matter how ugly the results when unveiled, they’re definitely more interesting to look at than when they’re disguised by flowery prose.

Half of A Drunkard’s Masterpiece, Johnny Dowd’s ninth studio album, seems to condone this “rip the band-aid off” philosophy, while the other half relies on hyperbolic surrealism to get its point across. The seeming opposition of the two ideas would make the album an interesting curio even if Dowd and his band didn’t do such a fantastic job of blending the two ideas together, musically as well as lyrically. Throw that bit into the equation and you’ve got an “album of the year” contender.

Johnny Dowd’s been kicking around in various small-time bands since the late ’70s, but since his first solo outing (1998’s The Wrong Side of Memphis), he’s carved a rather unique sound. His band has been slowly working towards an odd variation of Captain Beefheart’s fucked-up blues-rock, using old-style organ tones to anchor the rhythm section. Dowd often goes for broke with fierce shredding that’s never too over-the-top, with a voice made of equal parts Tom Waits and Mark E. Smith. On recent albums he’s added Kim Sheerwood-Caso, who does the lion’s share of the vocal work. She’s a much more limited vocalist than Dowd, but her lack of affect manages to work well with the material she’s given.

A Drunkard’s Masterpiece, structured like a long story rather than multiple short vignettes, features Dowd and Sheerwood-Caso as opposing parties in a dysfunctional set of adulterous relations, slowly realizing that there’s no going back to whatever stability existed before. It’s a well-worn story, and the theme isn’t twisted in any innovative way here. But there’s something about how Dowd and his cohorts present it, shifting seamlessly between gothic moodiness to rollicking blues-rock, between the serious and the ridiculous, between all the perspectives a tale like this needs, without hitting you over the head with what exactly they’re doing.

It may look pretty nondescript on paper, but in practice the way the elements converge is remarkable. Take album highlight “Infidelity / Gargon vs. The Unicorn.” Dowd and Sheerwood-Caso trade increasingly implausible scenarios in which they’d forgive each other’s infidelity; the strong organ-based motif slowly cedes to Dowd’s increasingly erratic soloing as the scenarios get more demented and absurd. The way the music mirrors the intensity of the lyrics throughout the album is one of the nicer touches, especially here, where you’ve basically got both a thematic and sonic summation of the album in about seven minutes.

There’s the occasional tangent (like the cautionary tale “Easy Money”), but the whole thing manages to be relatively streamlined, despite its nearly 70-minute running time. It’s the big moments — the epic surreal argument of “Infidelity / Gargon vs. The Unicorn,” the lonely lament of “Adulteress,” and the moody place-setting of “Danger / The Blind Painter Paints Black” — that are perfectly executed, bringing the whole album up to a level of greatness. There are no wasted moments, either: even the five-minute exercise in booty worshipping “Caboose” is a lot of fun, out of left field as it is. To top it all off, Dowd’s lyrics are as good as they’ve ever been, leavening the bleak moments with a healthy dose of surreal comedy.

It’s an acquired taste, to be sure: if you’re averse to Tom Waits or Captain Beefheart, this probably isn’t gonna be your cup of tea. But, if you like your blues twisted and bitter, this could work its charms on you pretty easily.

Feed The Animals
Girl Talk
Illegal Art, 2008

By Natalie Sylvie Plourde

One of my fondest preteen memories is of going through old issues of NME and Rolling Stone, cutting out my favourite pictures and sticking them to a record sleeve. I adore the art of the collage. Slapping and overlapping, only to end with products so fervent that (despite my mom’s opinion) I had to keep some of them even to this day, foreshadowing the road my tastes would take. A mashup, like an auditory collage, is a lot of small bits forced together until they fit, to create something new.

Enter Girl Talk. Beyond “versioning,” and well past “remixing,” DJ-slash-mastermind Gregg Gillis takes the idea of the mashup to new heights. Gillis’ most recent creation, Feed the Animals, features over three hundred songs in its thirteen tracks. This masterful album has, appropriately, something for everyone: “September” by Earth Wind and Fire mixed with the rap break in Fergie’s “Glamorous”; Nirvana’s “Lithium” mixed with Salt ‘N Pepa’s “Push It”. Music lovers rejoice: Girl Talk makes the Top 40s enjoyable, and highlights the fun bubblegum of charts past; his charm is his memory for the old and the obscure, while still staying current above and below the surface. Gillis goes as old-school as James Brown and as new as this year’s Radiohead, as mainstream as Flo Rida and as off-the-charts as Hot Chip [Ironically, I have no idea who Flo Rida is, whereas Hot Chip.... - Ed].

In this album, even more so than the last, he uses very current, popular samples. Most of the dominant lyric tracks are rap/hip hop/R’n'B songs, so while Gillis prepares a salad with a wide variety of ingredients, those with a taste for gangsta may gobble it up a bit faster. Feed the Animals also has “Oh my god, remember that one?!” moments woven in to it, like one-hit-wonder Len’s “Steal My Sunshine”. It’s just a glimpse, a wink, but it’s definitely there, and it definitely put a smile on my face.

Outlandish and goosebump-inducing song selection aside, Gillis has mastered the art of the transition. He has a teasing method, where he mixes the tail of the current song and repeats bits and pieces of the new song he’s introducing before he fully integrates it. He preps you for the bigger moments in the album, so you know when they’re coming.

At times, Gillis can lose his ear for what fits nicely. When “I’m a Flirt” by R. Kelly gets mixed with an early ’90s dance track, the notes don’t match up and Kelly sounds flat. These failings were conspicuous even on previous album Night Ripper, which hooked me on mashups. The great thing is that the bad parts only last ten seconds maximum, but that same quick tempo can lose some. It can be difficult to keep up with Girl Talk, because there’s so much information being delivered at once. Luckily on Feed the Animals, he slows everything down every once in a while to allow listeners to catch their breaths. This album, while still upbeat and dance-tastic, is slower but sweeter than his previous work. Gillis uses larger chunks of songs, occasionally giving the listener an entire verse and chorus as opposed to one or the other.

As an artist, Gillis does have political substance. For example, he hasn’t paid for rights to use any songs — there is a distinct possibility that execs and pop stars will not be pleased with his new popularity. Gillis also offers the “Pay What You Want” option for Feed The Animals on his website, which is, needless to say, a growing trend among independent artists. Upon downloading, prepare to feel a bit uncomfortable if you choose not to pay anything, because a window will ask you why you’re being cheap!

Hot Chip
Made in the Dark
Astralwerks/EMI/DFA Records, 2008

By Crow Winters

I’ve been trying to find a single word to summarize the latest Hot Chip release, Made in the Dark. From my first few spins with the album, I had settled with “uneven,” highlighting the albums highest highs and lowest lows. After repeated listenings, I realize now that there’s a much more apt word: “frustrating.” 

There actually is a very good album lurking within this CD’s unnecessary 53-minute running time. Album openers “Out At The Pictures” through “Bendable Poseable” all share a common thread and consistency that have become the group’s signature: creative use of disparate synth sounds, clanking unusual percussion, strong song writing, and a sense of humor and wit simply not present in most of their contemporaries. If this had been a road map for the rest of the album, this could have easily been one of the year’s strongest releases. 

Instead, the band veers off course into a series of cheesy , repetitive, and uninteresting attempts at ballads. “We’re Looking For a Lot of Love,” “Touch Too Much,” and “Made In The Dark” are the throw-aways that their titles hint at and, in the case of the album’s title track, it sounds like they were. It’s not the concept of the ballad that makes these innocuous love-and-breakup dirges fail so badly – ”Wrestlers,” one of the albums standout tracks, is a ballad that both is musically interesting and actually manages to have a sense of humor. The problem with these other ballads is their half-hearted arrangements: any of these tracks could blend into the background of your local soft rock stations. Let’s cut these tracks out and our new running time is 42 minutes. 

The album picks up again with “One Pure Thought,” which, while lacking a bit of the punch of the album’s opener songs, still stands very strongly on it’s own — particularly with it’s very fun stop-start breakdown in the middle. “Hold On” is the album’s true heart: a six-minute Talking Heads-esque opus of funky synth grooves and a provocative prechorus that easily dominates the rest of the song; “I’m only going to heaven if it tastes like caramel” will undoubtedly be the most quotable lyric from this album. 

“Wrestlers” appears next, twisting professional wrestling, sex, and love all into one delicious slow burn. The should-be album closer “Don’t Dance” provides a delightful raveup in it’s second half that shows the “Dance” part of Hot Chip’s dance-rock shtick at it’s finest. In that light, it’s a shame that the last two ballads, “Whistle For Will” and “In The Privacy of Our Love”, exist. It says a lot when the most interesting aspect of these is one of the song’s synth-fart percussions. If you bought the band’s previous release, The Warning, and liked it, then you should probably buy this one too. Just be prepared to either skip a lot of tracks, or make your own (shorter) mix.