•August 27, 2012 • 2 Comments
Glacial | On Jones Beach
It’s sad when people don’t “get” records. When something is challenging, they tend to write it off as a waste of time. That’s pretty much every review, that I have read, about the new Glacial album, On Jones Beach. What’s even more sad is the fact that it will be looked at as “The other Lee Ranaldo band” and while I suppose it is, its also saying nothing about the other two members of the group, bagpipe player David Watson ( co-founder of Braille Records) and Tony Buck ( a founding member of Australia’s, The Necks), on drums. I was shocked to find out it was recorded over the course of several years (think Sonic Youth’s Rather Ripped, forward)
On Jones Beach consists of 4 tracks. The opening title-track is a monster that weaves in and out clocking in at almost 50 minutes. The first real “it” moment comes in 14:33. The sprawling landscape becomes more condensed, melodically. Rolling drums over a repetitive Ranaldo jam that sounds like it could have been an Unwound out-take circa Fake Train. Hidden inside are moments of pure soul, anger, and complacency. The bagpipes add to the confusion. It’s wholesome skronk at its finest moments.
The remainder of the jams is less focused than the first. At times it almost feels like filler. They meander endlessly trying to find a groove but nothing will match the prowess of the first. I didn’t waste an hour listening to this. On Jones Beach isn’t going to be a classic drone record but you will hardly waste any time listening to it.
•August 27, 2012 • Leave a Comment
Drawing the proverbial in the sand. Something has to give.
•July 23, 2012 • Leave a Comment
You’ve been in my head a lot as of late. I spent the better portion of the weekend explaining who you are to me and how I miss you. I know you’ve moved on and that’s all I ever wanted you to do. You were always something more than any title could ever give. I never looked at you as a “girlfriend” or anything else. When I met you I realized that you were a part of me. You always had been. Everything I loved, you loved twice as much. Your heart was huge and forgiving. You could save the world. I’m still convinced you can.
I walked away from you NOT because I didn’t care. Actually, it was the opposite. I cared too much. I cared too much to want you to be around the stupidity and drama that my life was about to become. All I ever wanted was for you to find happiness. I knew it wouldn’t be me and I had to accept that. I have, to an extent. I still struggle. You are everywhere I turn. Everywhere I wanna be and everywhere I am. I dream about you. I ask myself if you’d like kim-chi on your dog. What your drinking or if you went to that show.
Everything you have thought about me is nothing worse than how I feel about myself.
The bottom-line is I miss you.
•July 5, 2012 • Leave a Comment
Lars Finberg is name that has followed me for the past several years. I first saw it in the band listing for the A-Frames Black Forest album, released by Sup-Pop in 2005, in which Finberg laid down solid drums for. Later that year I picked up a copy of Icky Baby. I was surprised to see that Lars had stepped out from behind the drum kit and into the “spotlight” as a singer/guitarist. After repeated listening I came to the conclusion, Icky Baby > Black Forest. While A Frames had mastered the art of post punk, The Intelligence had a sloppy loveable quality about it. Kinda like The Fall.Not so much a sonic comparison but in the quirkiness that band has. Always, always, always root for the underdog.
The opening track, I Like LA, is a jaunt into that quirkiness. Over top a premade Casio keyboard beat, Lars starts to count. By the time the song ends you are transported back to a simpler time. Straddling a line of balls out punk with 60’s sensibilities (re: garage punk), The Intelligence walks that line well. By the time you are half way through the album it starts to feel familiar. Not in the sense they ripped off the sound, contrary it sounds as fresh as most of this genera does. (They Found Me On The Back of) The Galaxy is a scorcher, leading right into the best 1-2-3 punch of the album. The words are slurring by the time you get to the Del Shannon cover, Little Town Flirt, You know this song. You love this song. God bless anyone for singing it again. What’s more is they do it justice by bringing Shannon Shaw from Hunx/Punx fame into the fold.
Everybody’s Got It Easy But Me isn’t going to break any new ground. It wasn’t supposed to though. It’s supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be sloppy. That’s what this is supposed to be. Treat it that way.