Monthly Archives: November 2011

Monotonix – Not Yet

Clocking in at just 32 minutes, Monotonix’s second full-length combines the frenzied, tour-ravaged vocals of singer Ami Shalev, the fuzzed-out chug of guitarist Yonatan Gat and manic tempos of drummer Haggai Fershtman into a cyclone of screeching rock. Energy is in no short supply here; start to finish the tempos of Not Yet barely ever drop below break-neck, and no track is ever disguised as anything less than fodder for the fire-starting drink-stealing chaos of their fabled live shows. Let there be no confusion: this is music for throwing parties, kicking over garbage cans and spilling beers. Thankfully, the Isreali trio is wise enough to never let the chaos get in the way of songwriting. Each track is a controlled burn, and the illusion of hectic monotony (hah!) quickly gives way to an array of strong riffs and scream-able choruses (“Before I Pass Away” is in my head, and it isn’t going anywhere). Not Yet is truth in album-art advertising: three bearded guys playing stripped down garage rock that’s clever enough to know when to quit and unpretentious enough to leave the audience happily exhausted.

B+

Originally published in The Peak, February 2011. 

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Gorillaz – The Fall

Unbeknownst to the public and most of their fans, a new Gorillaz album has arrived! Hooray! Damon Albarn’s merry band of anonymous musicians is foolproof, right? Well, sort of. Gorillaz have built their name on dub-steeped (yes steeped) electronic beats and a finely-honed ear for pop songwriting, little to none of which shows up here: The Fall sees Gorillaz apparently playing away from their strengths.

The Fall was recorded over 32 days while touring between Montreal and Vancouver and was crafted entirely via iPad, with an extensive suite of apps, on a bus. While the novelty is exciting, the shine quickly wears off: when Bobby Womack ad-libbed his feature on “Stylo”, it was enthusiastic and awesome. When Damon Albarn paints his travel-worn loneliness and feelings of alienation over the blurred countryside for 43 minutes of expansive electronica, the improvisations turn out significantly more tepid. Frankly, they’re a little boring: this is music that was composed on a bus, while bored, and it sounds like it. Make no mistake, however, this is the Gorillaz we know, complete with 2D’s jaded musings (“Revolving Doors”), but it sounds tired. Their signature home-run guest spots are reduced to Womack’s return in “Bobby in Pheonix” and the rest is mostly instrumental and strangely barren, despite some starkly beautiful moments (likely the album’s overall intention). On The Fall Damon Albarn has certainly captured the exhaustion and monotony of the North-American road trip, but was that experience ever enjoyable? 

C

Originally published in The Peak, January 2011.

Yes, it actually is that boring. I urge you not to test it. There is stark beauty, as in Boards of Canada, and then there is staring-out-the-window-because-you-are-bored monotony. This is the latter. 

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Cee Lo Green: The Lady Killer

He’s finally done it: the man that famously counseled André 3000 to unleash his crazy side has produced a work as cohesive, enjoyable and bizarre as he always promised. Comparisons to The Love Below are as inevitable as they are warranted – where André gave us Prince and jazz-steeped sex-anthems, Green takes the revivalist route, channeling neo-soul and homage-laden Motown into fourteen of the most economical songs he’s ever written. The Closet Freak isn’t known for his restraint (past albums were brutally creative, but dreadfully messy), nor will he ever live down Gnarls Barkley, but here Green comes into his own, limiting guest spots to two fantastic features. Not a single verse of The Lady Killer is hip-hop, a bold decision but a successful one: Green’s a showman at heart, and channels all that same energy and contradictory, metaphorical imagery into his crooned vocals. The Lady Killer himself is an alter-ego, a Casanova that just might be actually murdering the women he seduces, as in the chilling starkness of “Bodies” and the tear-jerking (necrophiliac?) balladry of “Wildflower”.

This review didn’t have to mention the colossal success of “Fuck You” for a reason: Cee Lo hit this one out of the park.

A

Originally published in The Peak, November 2010. 

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