Vampire Weekend--Contra [2010]

In their follow-up to their eponymous 2008 release, Vampire Weekend have conjured up their delicious blend of lycanthropy for Contra, their latest project.

There's something so deliciously infectious about Vampire Weekend's music. The sound is playful and celebratory, yet still manages to feel decidedly left-field. The new album opens with "Horchata," one of my instant favorites. Vampire Weekend have gone all-out with their instrumentation on this album, and among other odds and ends, you can make out marimbas, xylophones, synths, and strings all over "Horchata," which appropriately enough, really makes me wish horchata were easier to find in space. I'm not kidding, either. Major Tom would kill some horchata right now.

"California English" gets extremely playful both lyrically and musically. During one vocal break, vocalist Ezra Koenig hams it up: "Sweet carob rice cake / she don't care how the sweets taste / fake Philly cheese streak / but she use real toothpaste." It's a bit reminiscent of Anthony Kiedis' nonsensical vox, but hey, VW are all about being a little playful.

"I think Ur a Contra" certainly stands out as a personal favorite, and as other reviewers have pointed out, it may function as an ode to The Clash. In a rather "mature" VW moment, the instruments settle down to let Koenig's vocals soar. Midway through this cut, Koenig croons: "You wanted good schools / and friends with pools / you're not a contra."

"Diplomat's Son" narrates what's been described by Rolling Stone as a "boarding-school story." The speaker croons: "That night I smoked a joint / with my best friend / We found ourselves in bed/ When I woke up he was gone." Again, I'm not sure that in this case that it's important to know the full context. This track might prove VW's most successful appropriation of island/reggae influences (and certainly these guys are hugely-influenced by The Clash).

The conclusion I've come to is that if you want to enjoy Vampire Weekend, it's best not to over-think anything. "Holiday," for instance, isn't going to change your entire existential ethos with its poignant lyrics ("Holiday, oh a holiday / and the best one of the year"), but it will by Jove make you dance!

For this reviewer, the band's greatest success remains its daunting command of instrumentation. Somehow Vampire Weekend produce something which sounds paradoxically polished and rough around the edges at the same time. The instruments on this album are masterfully played, yet the sounds aren't over-produced (perhaps partly because VW choose to record independently?)

Memorable line: "In December drinking horchata/ I look psychotic in a balaclava."

Buy Some Horchata-Themed Greatness!

--Major Tom

Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra--Kollaps Tradixionales

We should count our lucky stars over Canada each time our northerly neighbors from A Silver Mt. Zion offer a new release. Pardon me--each time Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memoial Orchestra offer up a release. Kollaps Tradixionales heralds ASMZ's first release since 2008's 13 Blues for Thirteen Moons and stands as the orchestra's sixth L.P. under Constellation Records. It's always a bit frightening to see a great band suffer a lineup change (ASMZ have lost three members and gained drummer David Payant). While similar lineup shifts have Munson'd many a popular band, I honestly don't think ASMZ have lost a step due to these exclusions/additions.

Defining the "Silver Mt. Zion sound" is a fool's errand upon which I have no great desire to embark. Sure they dish up hints of the instrumental swells typical of the current "post" bands, yet ASMZ's instruments have always conjured a sound that I can only describe as distressed. It's beautiful and sparse and ugly and reminiscent of the sorts of projects genius obscura Bill Frisell might show up on. The Constellation website even struggles the articulate the album's voice, resorting to such tags as "afrobeat," "bazouki," "bop," and even "Anglo-Saxon folk." No matter what you choose to call them, ASMZ remain one of the freshest and most daring prescences in music. Unlike the litany of post-rock coattail riders, ASMZ seem to locate the perfect ratio of instrumental breaks to lyrical passages. Meanwhile, Efrim Menuck's dark genius smolders as keenly as ever. Menuck doesn't just support ASMZ--he is the sound.

Now maybe it's the twelve vacant "tracks," maybe it's the overdriven blues figures, or maybe it's the ham-fisted polemics, but something about 13 Blues just doesn't sit as well with me as releases like Horses in the Sky or Godspeed's f#a# (infinity). Despite considerable upheavals within the band, the music on Kollaps Tradixionales feels strangely "truer" to ASMZ.

But let's get down to brass tacks: what about the new album? Firstly, prepare yourself for the slow-burning intensity that ASMZ are known for. The track titles are nearly as compelling as the songs themselves, especially titles such as "I Built Myself a Metal Bird" and the corresponding "I Fed My Metal Bird the Wings of Other Metal Birds." It's interesting to see these bird metaphors--which often work to symbolize hope within the ASMZ catalogue--sustaining more inauspicious implications. The opening track, "There is a Light" feels like an immense and stilted waltz, ending with the repetitive refrain "Tell me there is a light." Despite those who brand Menuck a seething pessimist, the track seems to at least call for some ray of hope in the postmodern wasteland. Whether or not this hope/redemption will ever arrive is another matter. "I Built Myself a Metal Bird," with its surging 7/8 time signature, is perhaps the closest ASMZ have come to a straight-out rock number. The album carries a theme on "collapse" divided into three movements, the last of which, "Kollaps Tradicional," strikes me as an outlier with its somersaulting tribal drum tones. It sounds cool, but perhaps these rhythms feel a bit (too?) polished for ASMZ. Maybe I just miss Eric Craven and Scott Gilmore. No matter--even ASMZ's more "mainstream" moments fall light years beyond the realm of radio rawk, and I suspect the orchestra's sound to evolve further with time.

Unfortunately, lyrics for Kollaps Tradixionales are tougher to locate than Jeremy Piven's hairline (even in space I can hear people booing). The lyrics that I can make out reinforce my contention that ASMZ are Canada's answer to Radiohead--and perhaps ASMZ delve into deeper and even more obscure territories than Radiohead, especially in light of more accessible releases (ahem, In Rainbows?)

Bottom line: in this spaceman's humble opinion, Kollaps Tradixionales doesn't seek to reinvent the wheel--err, the mountain. But why should it? These avant garde virtuosos have already established a distinctive and provocative voice that, try though some might, simply can't be replicated. Now kill the lights, sit back and enjoy the bazouki, or the afrobeat, or the techno-billy-bop, or whatever the hell we're calling this fine tapestry.

Sell Me That Noise Right Damn-Now, Son!

--Major Tom

God is an Astronaut - God is an Astronaut [2008]

Wicklow, Ireland’s God is an Astronaut are stocking up on guitar picks for what will in all likelihood become their most successful album release and tour schedule to date. The pride of Wicklow’s newest self-titled LP, God is an Astronaut, promises to follow up 2007’s Far from Refuge with more of the band’s trademark spacey guitar wails, seamless instrumentation, and even brief doses of electronic beat-box magic.

To GIAA’s credit, I’d argue that few cuts within the post-rock canon compare to the sheer celebratory and melodic gusto of Far From Refuge’s “Beyond the Dying Light.” For this reviewer, the track defines the GIAA sound. Fortunately, we get more arrangements of this ilk on the newest release, such as “Post Mortem,” which builds upon a familiar stratospheric guitar chord hurled over a lush-sounding snare drum pattern.

“Echoes” is a stirring and dynamic piece, building from melodic key strokes into a pitch-perfect air raid siren and finally punching out a series of proggy “hits” for the outro. “Snowfall” blends together a more stark and austere mixture of musical themes. You can almost see the bright flakes tumbling down, almost see the dark underbellies of winter clouds as they scrape across the landscape. GIAA don’t let the mood become too bleak, however. Perhaps uncomfortable with the risk of boring listeners, they quickly vault into another tried-and-true blissed-out rock groove.

Originality within post-rockdom seems increasingly rare, what with the legions of shameless clone bands. God is an Astronaut do their part to resist the insidious post-rock factory sound, ladling up a rich and sophisticated sound and an upbeat spirit which remains distinct throughout. As musicians, they’re also gifted technicians, attempting much more challenging rhythms and orchestrated lock-ups than many of their ilk, who opt instead for slow, ponderous simplicity.

For this reviewer, none of the cuts on God is an Astronaut seem quite as arresting as “Beyond the Dying Light.” Regardless, this album offers up its share of highlights and also manages to wander into some slightly riskier territory on tracks like “No Return” and “Zodiac.” This brings me to my only real criticism of the album: it sounds polished—maybe a little too polished. After a few years of tuning (detuning?) my ears to obscure records bankrolled on shoestring budgets, God is an Astronaut sounds a bit too sterile, a bit too “Pro Tools.” True, they’ve never been a band to attempt that raw, visceral sound—a la Godspeed You! Black Emperor—but something about the newest album makes this especially apparent, leaving me hungry for some grit and dissonance.

Bottom line: over-produced or not, God is an Astronaut plays like gospel for devoted space cadets, and it’s surely worth a listen, especially for those of who who would just like a chance to "bliss out" a bit.

Buy the record!

Visit God is an Astronaut on Myspace

—Major Tom

Major Tom Interviews September Malevolence

A few months ago I reviewed September Malevolence’s After This Darkness, There’s a Next for Captain Obvious’s fine blog. This week, The Astronaut Farm interviews Martin Lundmark, September Malevolence’s front man. Hope you enjoy the interview, and please pick up a copy of this album. The music and the artwork are excellent!

Major Tom interviews Martin Lundmark

MT: Your band hails from Gothenburg, Sweden. How would you describe the Swedish music scene for those of us who are not familiar with the area?

ML: Well, despite the fact that Sweden is a small country, we are actually the world’s 3rd largest music exporter after USA and the UK. So, there’s a lot of bands here and there has been an interesting underground scene going on for years. I’ve always listened to a lot of Swedish bands and artists and been inspired by them.


MT: SM almost sounds like a band with roots in the realm of “post-rock,” yet unlike bands such as Mogwai, Mono, or Explosions in the Sky, your music is lyrical. Was SM originally inspired by instrumental band, or is your sound more the result of a natural progression?

ML: Originally, we were inspired by instrumental bands, but none us really listen that much to post-rock anymore—in fact, most the new post-rock kinda bores me . . . so we didn’t want to do a record that sounded like our debut . We wanted to do something different when we made the songs for After This Darkness… and think I think that for the most part we succeeded.


MT: The lyrics of After This Darkness, There’s a Next are pretty dark (no pun intended), especially on tracks such as “Who Watches the Watchmen?” and “I Shut Doors and Windows.” What inspires you as a writer?

ML: I think it’s easier to write about “darker” themes. I mean, lyrics that go “The sun is shining and I’m happy yeah yeah,”—that doesn’t really grab my attention. Also, 2007 was a really shitty year with a lot of bad things happening to me, which I guess affected the way the lyrics came out. I also think it’s important that the lyrics fit the music, and “Who Watches the Watchmen?” and “I Shut Doors and Windows” has this gloomy and dark feel to them that I wanted to emphasize.


MT: Though the album’s lyrics often inspire a sense of desolation and brooding, the music itself is often full and powerful. What is the atmosphere like at a live SM show?

ML: If it’s a good show: pretty intense!


MT: How does the average SM song come about? Do the ideas develop organically or does the band attempt a more structured approach to songwriting?

ML: Most of the time me and Tobias has a melody, a riff or something and then we start building from that. We don’t really have a structured approach; we come up with ideas as we go along, so it’s definitely more of an organic approach. Me and Tobias have pretty clear ideas most of the time of how we want it to sound I guess, but as always, when you play in a band, your vision for a song might not be fulfilled the way you thought it would be. But the song might actually benefit from that.


MT: How did the recording process go for After This Darkness?

ML: Pretty smooth. We laid the basic tracks in about a week and then we did overdubs and vocals. Doing vocals and writing lyrics was the most time-consuming part of the recording process. For our next album, however, we’re not gonna enter studio with a more or less finished album; we’re gonna record the album over a longer period of time and, as soon as a song is “set,” start writing on the next song.


MT: What are your general feelings about the current state of mainstream music?

ML: Hmm . . . I don’t really know. I don’t listen that much to mainstream music. But I guess it’s safe to say, boring!


MT: Finally, if you were stranded in space, what would you take with you?

ML: A guitar!


MT: Thanks, Martin!

September Malevolence on myspace

Shop for September Malevolence via Tenderversion

—Major Tom

The Evpatoria Report - Maar [2008]

Armed with only two guitars, some drums, bass, a violin, and a keyboard, The Evpatoria Report accomplish quite a lot on their latest effort Maar, released courtesy of Get a Life! Records. According to Wikipedia, the band’s moniker references the Croatian city of Evpatoria, which broadcasts an “Evpatoria message” directly into space for any roaming aliens that might be bored enough to tune in. As an astronaut myself, I can assert with confidence that listening to The Evpatoria Report is much more engaging than listen to “the Evpatoria report.”

The album’s first cut, “Eighteen Robins Road,” builds like a prairie fire, beginning with only a tinkling of keys, building towards a full on assault of guitar distortion and heavy snare drum backbeats, and then dwindling to delicate cymbal notes and a recurrent organ melody . . . and then the process begins all over again. At its most intense, Maar carries a sense of crisis beneath its crescendos. It’s as if the next progression might turn the music loose from the confines of time and space, make it fly off the rails like a wayward locomotive.

Not to break musical character, “Mithridate” builds at the same tenuous pace, the drum groove punching in and out to match what sounds like e-bow guitar. This track leaves room for some space instead of gunning for the rather predictable instrumental swells. Between notes, an uptight British voice divulges a scientific-sounding status report regarding the effects of an unnamed drug on human subjects (cannabis?). Frequently, spoken word segments within the post-rock genre try too hard to be profound, and TER’s example offers a refreshing departure from pomposity.

Like “Mithridate,” “Acheron” feels a bit more organic than the first two tracks—a bit more jammy. When the groove finally does materialize, I dare say it borders on “jazzy.” But then comes the build, heaving us about like insignificant little beings riding the belly of an infinite and dangerous machine, cast in the shadow of its sublime wonder and horror. In an unexpected and delightful twist, the piece ends on a high-octave guitar melody that might have been at home on the credits of The Twilight Zone.

Bottom line: The Evpatoria Report conjure an impressive body of music within just four tracks. Pull a few paperweights off the shelf and make some room for Maar.

The Evpatoria Report

Buy the album via Get A Life! Records

—Major Tom

Sleepingdog - Polar Life [2008]

There’s not a wealth of information circulating about Hoegaarden, Belgium’s Sleepingdog, which is one of the reasons we’re inclined to review Chantal Acda’s latest effort, Polar Life, released courtesy of Gizeh—home to other great Euro acts such as Glissando.

Defining Sleepingdog is a bit like trying play catch with a jellyfish—it’s not as easy as it seems. And Sleepingdog, despite her myspace profile’s “experimental” music tag, really doesn’t reinvent the proverbial wheel. Yet her sound is distinctive and elusive in its simplicity—the austere vocals, the distant, sparse key notes, the rare ambient throb of drums. The closest comparative analysis we can muster is that Sleepingdog feels a bit like a stripped-down iteration of Windmill’s Puddle City Racing Lights, although Chantal Acda is like a choir of angels to Windmill's asthmatic bridge troll (sorry, Windmill; we still love you).

Lyrically, Polar Life supports its moniker, evoking a cold and beautiful sonic landscape. In “The Sun Sinks in the Sea,” the speaker recounts the destruction of “My wakened day / my dreams.” Again, though simplistic, these words yield heart-wrenching results within the context of the music. “Sunshine Daylight” perks things up a bit with busier instrumentation, brighter vocals, and crystalline glockenspiel tones. “Alleys,” a deep cut, contains some of the most vivid images: “You drove me from your door / through white dark long alleys / with light shining on us.” The speaker narrates a journey through snowy streets and lost love before long organ notes thrust the music forward, only to die away. “Ardennes” throws a curve ball with the inclusion of Sufjan Stevens-worthy banjo twanging, beat-box percussion samples, and even a taste of Stars of the Lid-grade electronic drone. The final cut, “If Only (Sophia),” is arguably the most moving. Acda shares vocal duties with a male persona (Adam Wiltzie?) to tremendous effect. The speaker muses: “If only I could believe that tomorrow / when I wake from my sleep / that you’d still be with me.” Again—simple, yet effective.

In addition to her artistic merits, Chantal Acda claims to have recorded Polar Life at home with a dog named “Darko” faithfully sprawled at her feet. She’s also worked with Texas drone virtuosos Stars of the Lid, which leads one to wonder —what are the chances she’d go for an astronaut drummer?

Bottom line: Polar Life allows for a gratifying journey. It’s more acoustic than experimental, but this music still possesses enough depth and quirkiness to fly in under most radars.

Check out Sleeping Dog on Myspace!

Sleeping Dog's Website [under construction]

—Major Tom

Mooncake-Lagrange Points [2008]

Since we can’t just review bands from Austin, TX, our latest pick lifts us all the way to the Russian Federation’s Moscow for Mooncake and their latest instrumental release, Lagrange Points. It’s almost too obvious a choice for a place called The Astronaut Farm, but get over it.

Since I am an astronaut, I already knew the album's title references Italian-French math wiz Josef Lagrange's “Lagrange points." The points themselves have to do with enormous heavenly bodies in motion and gravitational fields and the alignment angles at which smaller orbiting bodies may (theoretically) remain in stationary orbits. Why am I telling you this? So you can better understand some of Mooncake’s obscure track titles, which reference each of Lagrange’s points (“L1” through “L5”).

The good news is that you don't have to have a PhD in astrophysics to enjoy Mooncake's music. If anything, I was actually hoping that this album would be a little less derivative of the greater post-rock canon. The instrumentation invites comparisons to a number of quintessential post-rock acts, including Explosions in the Sky, Mono, Mogwai, and perhaps even Russian Circles and Red Sparowes. This is especially apparent on tracks like “444,” which, though beautiful, does little to distinguish Mooncake from the litany of American post bands. “Novorossiysk 1968” inspires a sublime sense of wonder, and feels something like tumbling through space, watching the beautiful and volatile formation of new galaxies as light and stardust heave together. “Mandarin” follows suit with stratospheric guitar melodies and rich, emotive string arrangements which build, build, build and fade. “The Horizons” perks things up with a stirring string melody before a more foreboding guitar swell takes precedence. But the uplifting string theme returns as the piece progresses, maintaining a stable thematic device to tie the different movements together. This is the sort of conceptual detail that separates talented musicians from pretenders.

While Lagrange Points doesn't exactly turn instrumental post-rock on its proverbial ear, it will offer a fine addition to your music library and will make for an enthralling aural experience. That being said, I'd like to see Mooncake take some bigger risks on their next release.

See Mooncake's myspace profile for purchasing instructions.

Check Mooncake out on Myspace!

Mooncake's Website (coming soon)

—Major Tom