Minus the Bear - 'Omni'

Omni finds Minus the Bear with a new label (Dangerbird Records, which is cool) and a new sound (which is bad; more on that later). This time out, the group embraces their inner Boz Scaggs, blending blue-eyed soul with their own prog/dance/rock style to form something pretty unsatisfying. A major pendulum swing from the stellar Planet of Ice, Omni comes off limp and lame. For a group that’s dropped plenty of groovers over the years, one would think moving into a more danceable direction would be a welcome change. It ain’t.

As an MtB album, Omni is neither a rocker nor a mover. Lead guitarist Dave Knudson still gets in some neat-o tricks and keyboardist Alex Rose sounds damn fine here, but the songs are often middling. There are some decent ideas, like on the ’80s synth jam “My Time,” an opening track that announces right away that the band is exploring a new introduction. “Secret Country” has a gnarly bridge. But these moments won’t make nearly as big of an impression as the hammy lyrics. Frontman Jake Snider keeps dropping stupid come-ons like “I’m gonna steal you like a pearl” (“The Thief”) and “I don’t know you that well / But I like your energy” (“Animal Backwards”). Dude needs to get slapped. Hard.

The new sound is going to turn off a lot of kids. Cokeheads can still do coke while listening to MtB, but non-douchebags looking for the fun, pop-tastic comforts of “Pachuca Sunrise” or the epic rocking of “Lotus” are going to be disappointed. Personally, I’m not opposed to the group’s new direction – I love Scaggs and Hall & Oates – but MtB can’t quite integrate the soul style, resulting in something more akin to Maroon 5’s white guy faux-funk, albeit played by the guys who wrote Menos el Oso. Maybe, in time, the group will indeed drop its own Silk Degrees. Minus the Bear’s previous output demands I call this one more of a faux pas than a failure, but either way, it’s still a pretty crappy album from an otherwise pretty good band.

Mean Jeans - 'Tears in My Beers'

Fresh from their super catchy, super fun Ramones tribute Are You Serious, pop-punkers Mean Jeans return with a two-song seven-inch for Trouble in Mind. “Tears in My Beers” and “Cool to Drive” are probably as close to a concept album as the band is ever going to make. When I say the songs show little artistic growth, I really mean the group succeeds in yet again whipping out spitfire surf punk for pogo enthusiasts.

“Tears in My Bears” is exactly what the title suggests: Dude gets bummed, cries into his beer, then drinks his beer. I suppose there are worse bodily fluids to put in your drinks.

“Cool to Drive” is the better song, even if it does kind of endorse drunk driving, but the hook that propels the chorus “I don’t care if it takes a hundred years / I’m gonna drink a million beers” is undeniable. My drankin’ buddies have a slogan: “Beers for years.” I like to think “Cool to Drive” could be our unofficial anthem, but I’m not sure how well sloppy hands and vinyl grooves will work together.

The Mountain Goats - 'The Life of the World to Come' DVD

Considering how prolific he is with his studio albums, it’s surprising how many quality rarities John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats drops. Recent releases like Black Pear Tree and Moon Colony Bloodbath saw some of his best songs of the decade, yet were relegated to limited edition, tour-only, vinyl-only releases. Obtaining these items is a rush – it’s like being in on a wonderful, beautiful, secret truth – but losing out can be maddening.

I’m glad I reserved a copy of The Life of the World to Come on DVD. Originally screened on a brief press tour, it finally saw a physical release for Record Store Day April 17. Limited to 1,500 copies, the film features Darnielle playing songs from last year’s album of the same name on piano or guitar, with the occasional supporting vocal from former TMG bassist/vocalist Rachel Ware. I already own the album on CD and limited edition purple vinyl (74 of 777). I declared it the best album of 2009. I fall under the designation “super fan” and am quite stoked on watching TMG Classic perform in such an intimate setting.

But you don’t need to know the significance of the venue (Pomona College, where Darnielle had his first piano recital as a wee lad). Nor do you need to know the significance of Ware’s return. Heck, you don’t even need to know the tracks or the Bible passages they reference or that the first song, “Enoch 18:14,” isn’t even on the album. Sure, it helps, but it’s not completely necessary.

Like the best concert films, The Life of the World to Come succeeds by avoiding the genre’s pitfalls (delusions of grandeur, bad audio). Credit for that goes to director Rian Johnson (Brick) and his crew. They filmed two takes for each song using a simple set-up – single portable camera with a dolly for quick movements when needed. Yet the crew captures numerous special moments – that grin when Darnielle starts getting into “Enoch 18:14,” or the way his voice quavers only on his ode to his deceased mother-in-law, “Matthew 25:21.” There are mistakes, but none of them derail the songs. If anything, they enhance the performances.

Supplementing the film is footage of a Q-and-A from Darnielle and Johnson’s press tour, as well as extensive liner notes. Both get funny and/or cryptic at times, as Darnielle is wont to do, but they’re appreciated. My only complaints against the film are minimal – I wish the DVD’s release was wider, and I wish it lasted longer than is probably reasonable on my part. Ninety minutes is a decent running time. Originally used for promotional purposes, Life affirms that the Mountain Goats’ songs work even when stripped to their barest bits, and in doing so stands up as a companion to and independent entity from last year’s album.

The Menzingers - 'Chamberlain Waits'

The Menzingers have steadily built a fan base since the release of their debut, A Lesson in the Abuse of Information Technology. Occupying space somewhere between the Clash and Billy Bragg, the group’s live shows are frequently filled with anthems, humor and positive vibes. Sophomore album Chamberlain Waits shows the group’s knack for penning passionate political missives is still burning. During the 30 minutes the record occupies, everything in the universe is A-OK.

Chamberlain Waits is the logical follow-up to Lesson, in that A) the tunes are still folk-tinged punk gems, B) the production got better and C) this stuff makes me choose life. The group still knows when to toss out a Bragg-style solo number (“Male Call,” in this case). Dudes could drop their own Talking With the Taxman About Poetry and I don’t think anyone would object. And they still capture the Clash’s spirit. Not so much the sound – there’s not enough bile or Jamaican influences to directly capture that group’s various sounds – but the furious playing and vocals that alternate from barking to harmony at every turn certainly recall Joe Strummer and Mick Jones.

There are differences, of course, but they’re subtle. The recording quality shot up a bit thanks to Matt Allison (Alkaline Trio, Lawrence Arms). The lyrics sound wearier (especially on “Home Outgrown,” with its realization of “My heroes / I have forgotten them”). The hooks take slightly longer to bury themselves…by which I mean it might take two spins instead of one to realize that this is the punk album to beat in 2010.

Most listeners will probably get on board during that first listen, though. “Who’s Your Partner” opens with chugging guitars and a hypnotic 4/4 bass drum ‘n’ toms beat. By the time the group sprinkles on a pinch of feedback, heads will be bobbing. Some fans might even vow to let “these simple songs get caught in our heads” before the band says the same thing. “Who’s Your Partner” is just the opening salvo in a long line of triumphant jams. “I Was Born” should be familiar to those who picked up the group’s digital single last month. “Home Outgrown” is a sad song that’s really, really catchy, so it evens out.

The album keeps dishing out the hits after that. From the dance-punk-y “Deep Sleep” to the closing title track, Chamberlain Waits is a fat-free throat-scraper, and yet another reminder to catch the group’s live shows.

The Cold Beat / Movers & Shakers - split

Here’s a DIY story for ya: The fellows in the Cold Beat and Movers & Shakers paid for their seven-inch split by shoveling snow. Given that they all hail from the Boston area, they probably moved a ton of crystalline water ice. Their status as good neighbors warrants a spin or two for their split.

Cold Beat kicks the four song collection off with “Absolute Zero” and “Tracks” with all the flair of early Thursday (circa Waiting) mixed with Piebald. It passes by well enough, but could use more punch considering the band’s style. “Absolute Zero” starts promisingly only to peter out. “Tracks,” though, comes off more fully formed with its dirty, slinking bass groove guiding the listener through the atmospheric verses, driving choruses and guitar solo.

Movers & Shakers take over the B side with “Movin’ On” and “An Original Idea.” Both tunes are in the Replacements/Lucero vein – jangle-y punk rock that’s earthy enough to appeal to those outside of the mosh pit. The music is assured and steady, although charmingly laid back compared to the Cold Beat’s side.

Given that three out of the four tunes here are decent, perhaps you’ll reward the bands’ hard winter work with a listen?

The Mountain Goats and Final Fantasy at the Theater of Living Arts

John Darnielle of indie/folk masters the Mountain Goats seems to have a fondness for Philadelphia. He writes for metal mag Decibel, which is printed in Philly. Goats drummer Jon Wurster is from the area. He commands a fanatic cult, but isn’t afraid to play smaller venues like the North Star Bar or local college campuses. And when he does falter live, as any human is bound to eventually do, he makes up for it tenfold. So, obviously, the guy was gonna put on a great show for fans when he hit the TLA Sat., Nov. 28 with Final Fantasy. That’s pretty much a given. But the exact way he would do it – mixing crowd pleasers and deep cuts, playing some songs astonishingly softly for such a medium-sized venue while also going louder than he ever has before – could never be predicted.

See, the Goats have a lot of songs. Fansite Themountaingoats.net counts 525. The band has such a wealth of tunes that Darnielle is able to pull out obscure songs whenever he wants, much to superfans’ delight. That alone ensures that most Goats shows are unique. Throw in the band’s tendency to perform songs with their tourmates, as well the Goats’ recent swelling to a four-piece with the addition of guitarist Perry Wright (The Prayers & Tears of Arthur Digby Sellers; check out The Mother of Love Emulates the Shapes of Cynthia sometime), and the uniqueness of each performance is that much more assured. Nov. 28 was no exception.

The night began with Final Fantasy, a.k.a. violinist/vocalist Owen Pallett. Accompanied by a guitarist/percussionist, Pallett crafted polyphonic wonders using his violin, a keyboard, and enough loop pedals to fight whatever apocalyptic future awaits us. Calling his music orchestral pop doesn’t sound quite right since A) we’re talking about a one-man orchestra, B) Pallett’s tunes have a lot of dance and pop elements, and C) dude is too funny to be pigeonholed. The guy’s classical background shows – he’s clearly talented – but he didn’t come off as pompous while discussing his music at all. Ditto for when he called out some obnoxious, talkative non-listeners, wryly saying, “Were you guys talking this whole time? I didn’t notice because I was so into the music.” Overall, Pallett put on an entertaining show. I anticipate his upcoming 2010 record, Heartland.

By Pallett’s own admission, opening for the Mountain Goats is intimidating given his fervent fanbase (of which I consider myself a member). Pallett’s set wrapped up by 9:50 p.m., and by 10:10 I was losing my patience. I needed a Goats fix. When the houselights dimmed at 10:15, the crowd, and me, collectively lost its shit. The Goats hit the stage and tore into…

Wait, I don’t know this song. How do I not know this song? I just listened to 18 hours of TMG tunes. I should know this song. Think, think. This song is so awesome, with its boisterous arrangement. Wurster looks like he’s having such a great time. They’re singing about handball. How many Goats songs are about that?

That’s right, the Mountain Goats opened with “Hand Ball,” originally from the compilation Our Salvation is in Hand, later compiled on the rarities collection Protein Source of the Future...Now!. They did it with a full band too, which shows how much Wurster has integrated into Darnielle and bassist Peter Hughes’ dynamic. Darnielle has always had a knack for loud acoustic ditties – have you heard “Cubs in Five?” – but Wurster and Wright pushed that aspect harder on songs like “Palmcorder Yajna,” “This Year,” and “See America Right.” “Romans 10:9,” one of the poppier songs from new album Life of the World to Come, turned out surprisingly, wonderfully heavy. It was perhaps my favorite performance of the night. Of the five times I’ve seen the Mountain Goats, this was their most rocking set.

Of course, an ebb and flow can do plenty for a live show. The Goats added softer songs like “Deuteronomy 2:10” and Life outtake “Enoch 18:14,” after which Darnielle went solo for a bit, knocking out obscurities like a so-far-unreleased cover of the Chiffons’ “One Fine Day,” “From TG&Y,” and “Song for Dana Plato,” all of which went over well with the crowd. After that, Darnielle went even deeper with “Going to Michigan” by the Extra Glenns, a band he was in with Nothing Painted Blue frontman Franklin Bruno. Pallett came out to play the guitar part from “Going to Bristol” on his violin, and it was good. Damn good. There was a bit of respect and nerd love between the two performers, as Pallett would come back for performances of “Hebrews 11:40,” “This Year,” and “No Children.”

The rest of the band came out to wrap up the regular set, concluding with rabblerousers “See America Right” and “This Year.” “This Year” gets a little bit louder and faster every time I see it live, which, given that it’s one of the most beloved, best TMG songs, is always welcome.

After a two-song encore of “Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace,” which featured Hughes’ bass at its heaviest, and “No Children,” I felt ever so slightly disappointed. See, I interviewed Darnielle a little while ago via e-mail. He dodged a few of my questions, one of which was a show request for his cover of “Dirty Old Town,” as my girlfriend and I have a lot of memories attached to that song. Since Darnielle didn’t outright shoot me down, I wondered, nay hoped, that maybe he really would play the song. He didn’t. But then the band came out for a second encore and played a full band version of “The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton,” which is, scientifically speaking, the greatest Mountain Goats song of all time. Some people might say “Going to Georgia” (which I’ve heard live, suckaz) or “Going to Maine,” but those people are wrong, and perhaps even insane. The show opened to strains of Dio and closed with raised fists and shouts of “Hail Satan!” Decibel, and a lot of Philly’s Mountain Goats fans, would’ve been proud.

Set list

Hand Ball
Old College Try
Cotton
Palmcorder Yajna
Romans 10:9
Deuteronomy 2:10
Enoch 18:14
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One Fine Day (Chiffons cover, went solo)
From TG&Y
Song for Dana Plato
Going to Michigan (Extra Glenns cover)
Going to Bristol (with Owen Pallett)

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Hebrews 11:40 (back to full band with OP)
Psalms 40:2
Song for Dennis Brown
See America Right
This Year (with OP)
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Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace
No Children (with OP)
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The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton

Interview: John Darnielle (The Mountain Goats)

[I've been sitting on this article for about a month. Now that punknews.org has finally run it, I'm happy to introduce to you my interview with John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats. It was a huge honor to talk to the guy, even if it was from the awkward distance of e-mail.]

For almost 20 years, the Mountain Goats have been turning out literate, evocative folk-rock. Their latest album, The Life of the World to Come, is among their best yet, coupling religious images with stories both personal and fictional. It's their, I believe, 434th full-length release, and the group shows no signs of artistic fatigue. I was able to secure some talking time with frontman John Darnielle during a break from touring, via e-mail. He was awfully coy in places - especially when I asked him some questions about his appearance on The Colbert Report - but pretty open on others. Here now are his thoughts on touring, Barbara Streisand, anniversary shows, and the Bible.

Hi. Hey. Hello. How are you?

I'm doing great! Got home from a short European tour the other day and have been working in the kitchen ever since, I really love to cook and bake so it's good times for me right now.

How long did it take you to write the songs for The Life of the World to Come? Did you decide going in to incorporate the Bible for every song, or did the idea spring itself on you? How did reacting to the Bible affect your lyric choices, as of opposed to, say, discussing your relationship with your stepfather in The Sunset Tree?

It sort of came together gradually throughout 2008, and by early '09 I was well into it - first there was this song on the Black Pear Tree EP, "Supergenesis," which was the first Bible-related song I'd written in a while, and I noticed while I was writing it that it kind of woke me up in a way other writing wasn't - I used to write a lot more Bible-driven songs, way way back when in the cassette days. So, around the same time, I wrote "1 John 4:16," and it was a pretty emotional song for me, and I thought, there's something going on here - keep looking at this. And then I learned about a Biblical translation I hadn't known anything about, Young's Literal Translation, and I get pretty excited when I think about translation generally speaking, really inspired. So at that point I was kind of off to the races.

You described your new album as 12 hard lessons the Bible taught you. “Matthew 25:21,” “Philippians 3: 20-21,” “Hebrews 11:40,” and “Isaiah 45:23” all deal with declining health. Are they all about your mother-in-law? Other people? Care to explain their meanings? How did the Bible help you deal with loss?

I try to avoid doing too much "here's what this song is about" stuff with songs, because once a song's writer does that, it kind of puts the song into a coffin and nails the lid shut - no more fun playing with this song and its meanings, listener: the Author has spoken, nothing more to see here, keep movin'! At the same time, I like to be a good sport, so I'll take one: "Philippians 3:20-21" isn't about anybody I knew personally - it's for David Foster Wallace, whose work I don't even know that well but who had such a profound and positive effect on so many people, who was one of those guys about whom, when you get exposed to how he thinks about people and their essential eventual goodness, you think, man, if there were a God, God would have to like this dude, because this dude is so full of goodness and love of life and love for other people, compassion for their struggles, insight into both the good and the bad about people, into the raw humanity that makes the whole world hum. So then he goes and hangs himself, and you think, you know, how could a kind God not give a guy like that the basic equipment needed - the right brain chemistry, I mean - to be able to even bear being alive? You know what I mean? Suicide, the fact that people get to that point of total despair and hopelessness at all, that's like the harshest interrogation of the concept of the Christian God there is. Born-again types have a very simplistic explanation of the whole thing that involves cartoonish concepts like tempting demons and so on, but of course that shit is just infantile. How could a merciful and benevolent and loving God create a good, talented, giving person with a time bomb in his head? How can a good God unleash Hell inside a good man's head? This has troubled me since I worked in mental health. Naturally, if you're an atheist, this one's easy, unless you're a more creative atheist who's able to say "OK, let's posit 'God': how do things work if we do that?" Unfortunately we kind of don't live in a time when people are really able to do a lot of "if x then y" thinking, which in my opinion is what punk rock was all about in the first place, but that's another subject.

What kind of reaction have the new songs gotten so far?

Pretty good I think! I think people hear that this is a pretty emotional record, for me, and I think for the band too - that there's something at the core of it that's kind of freshly-wounded and raw, something physical in the feeling we're going for.

Would you describe yourself as spiritual or religious? What are the top three things you’d change about the Catholic Church, if given carte blanche? What does the Bible mean to you?

These last two questions would require a little more space than I can really stretch out for, but - I mean, yeah, I'm as spiritual as a person who's not sure there's any such thing as "spirit" can be. I think I know what people mean when they describe their "spirit," whether that's actually a construct within one's personality or the essential part of one's self that you share with the world (or not) - the part of you that's uniquely you, that either never dies or which dies forever when you do - I think there is such a thing as that, whether it's an eternal thing or just the most adamantine aspect of your personality. And I think it's an important thing, that concept of The You Which Is Uniquely You. The Church - I mean - part of its charm is its resistance to change. I am not a practicing Catholic though I do go to Church sometimes - I can't call myself Catholic because I don't believe what they believe, but I think it's kind of lame for me to say to the Church "you must change!" in order to please me. I am free to worship or not as I see fit; if the Church doesn't share my beliefs, no-one's forcing me to stay in it. The whole question is a lot more complicated than that, obviously, because of cultural identity (esp. heavy with Catholicism) and how one thinks about doctrine (fluid or rigid? dogmatic or descriptive?), but I think at the end of the day I'm kind of Old School Catholic, which means I don't think the Church should change its teachings to make anybody happy. The Church should be who she is. If over time the Church's understanding of dogma becomes more inclusive of more people, then I think that's great, but the Church isn't the scene or anything. It doesn't have to change for anybody, and it kind of shouldn't.

How has having a steady three-piece affected your songwriting? I know you’ve been playing with Peter Hughes for a while, but do you write differently knowing that Jon Wurster will be around for tours? How much do Peter and Jon contribute to the music overall?

The songwriting process stays essentially the same, though we have tried a thing or two that involved writing the song in the studio - not the lyrics; the lyrics I write in solitude, usually, even if it's the dug-out solitude of whatever corner I can find in a dressing room. Peter and Jon write their parts and the songs grow and change in response to what they see and hear and feel in the skeleton I bring to the table - I write the chords and the melodies and the words, but there's more to a song than that stuff, and the "more" is what they do: sort of putting muscle and skin and spirit into the bones.

You’ve been known to put out high quality vinyl. All of your 4AD stuff has stayed in print, and you’ve released some incredible tour-only vinyl and color variants. What’s your favorite record find and why?

I am more of a pack-rat than a "seek out essential items" dude but this very, very obscure midwestern vanity pressing thing by a band called the Cause that my wife and I found at the Ajax store in Chicago years ago, when we were first dating - that's a huge find, because it's very much its own off-in-space thing. I have a near-complete original run of Man is the Bastard vinyl, much of it bought directly from Wood himself, I take some pride in that. Especially the Born Against split 8", one of my favorite records ever.

Could you talk about your experience on The Colbert Report? Do you get a lot of TV requests?

What can I tell you - it was fun, we enjoyed ourselves!

Is there anyone left on your short list for collaborations? Perhaps a Boz Scaggs duet?

Mostly classical musicians right now - I have a whole lot of ideas for strings and I am hoping to work more with Miranda Cuckson. I would like to work with the choreographer Trisha Brown - would like to write music for her to choreograph. That's a dream though, she's a titan in her field. Me singing with Boz wouldn't be a very good idea, I don't think. He is a truly great singer whom I admire tremendously. I'm good at what I do, but I'm not in his league. Like, at all.

Call it now: What is the best Mountain Goats record? What’s your favorite song to perform? Have you ever thought about performing an album in its entirety? Maybe do an All Hail West Texas tribute when it turns 10, or teach your newer fans the wonders of Sweden?

Well, OK, this is five questions - taking them more or less in order: my favorite record is always the new one, which is not because it's the one being promoted, but because I'm always most interested in what's newest, what's freshest - I mostly lose interest in an album once I've moved on to the next one, I sort of say "here are the songs I loved best from that record and here's what I learned how to do from writing them and playing them and recording them and touring with them, living with them" and then move along, keep goin'. Swim, shark, or die! you know? So, my favorite stuff is the newest songs that nobody's heard yet, and my second favorite is the new album, and after that -- I don't know; I mean, I have an affection for The Sunset Tree because it's meant a lot to a lot of people, and that means a lot to me, and it was hard to write, so I got something from the whole process. And I'm super proud that with Get Lonely, we did what we felt instead of trying to do "Sunset Tree II" or anything - we followed our hearts and I'm proud of doing that and of the record we made. I have no interest at all in doing a pat-self-on-back thing like presenting an old album in its entirety, to me that's "hi I'm an old man now dwelling on past glories," fuck that in my opinion, no disrespect to anybody who's into it. OK maybe a little disrespect because seriously, art is about growth, not K-Tel commercials for the great hits from when life was simpler and we were all in high school. I don't go to anybody's "playing their classic album" shows, I hate the whole concept, it's like very major label Las Vegas. Though I would go see Streisand do Je M'Appelle Barbra but that's different because it's a whole different world. I don't think good rock music should be about ideas like "classic." The idea is keeping it new.



You’ve dropped so many more non-full-length tracks since your trio of rarities compilations in 2002. Any thoughts on doing another rarities collection?

There really isn't any point in doing a rarities collection now that everything's free, I don't think. Back when we started putting together the three singles comps, people who really wanted to hear those songs couldn't, or had to work super-hard to get their hands on dubbed copies. That's not the case any more, so the utility of the rarities comp is questionable now.

Your entry in the 33 1/3 series, on Black Sabbath’s Master of Reality, doubles as a short story, in which a troubled youth describes the album in his vernacular while dealing with treatment in an adolescent psychiatric center in 1985. Have you ever though of writing/releasing more fiction?

Yeah I am working on another book.

Mean Jeans - 'Are You Serious'

Ramones Ramones Mean Jeans Ramones new album Are You Serious Ramones pop punk Ramones. The trio (Ramones!!!) tears through 13 raucous tunes in 25 minutes (’mones), calling to mind bands like Teenage Bottlerocket and Screeching Weasel (by which I mean, the Ramones). With song titles like “Lets Pogo B4 U Gogo” and “Total Creep,” Mean Jeans are keeping Ramones-core alive.

While the Oregon act clearly goes out of its way to recall Joey’s vocals and Dee Dee’s bass lines (and count-offs), there are subtle differences, like guitar solos. “Slime Time” even segues into a totally random electronic slow jam. Closing track “Lets Pogo B4 U Gogo” clocks in at over four minutes in length, although it’s one of only two songs that exceed the 2:30 mark.

OK, OK, so these are small stretches. Are You Serious is a total Rocket to Russia tribute album. But it’s so got-damned fun. Here’s a band that thrashes through their instruments as quickly as possible while still executing stellar vocals. Give me a fast beat and a couple dozen “whoa-oh”s anytime. Songs like “Space Trash” and opener “Born on a Saturday Night” rip and roar to life; they cannot be denied.

Of course, it’s these same points that I triumph that some might loathe. Frontman Billy Jeans really does try to do a Joey Ramone impersonation, so much so that I wonder if I dig this album because it’s catchy, or because it reminds me of one of my favorite bands. The songs aren’t terribly deep – drinking, drugs, comics, and the occasional lady friend are the dominant topics. And, depending on which side of the fun spectrum you fall under, “Lets Pogo B4 U Gogo” is either pandering or deliciously cheesy.

But darn it all, these songs are glorious. “I’m a no brainer,” the band sings on the appropriately titled “No Brainer.” It’s true. With tunes this blistering, joyous, and awesome, I don’t have to think much about throwing on some Mean Jeans.

The Modern Society - 'The Beat Goes On'

“Competent.” That’s about the best I can say about the heartland rock of The Beat Goes On, the latest from Georgia rockers the Modern Society. The quartet serves up 10 adequate slabs of radio rock in the vein of Goo Goo Dolls and Switchfoot, or perhaps a piano-less, more rock-centric Fray. But while the Gaslight Anthem and the Hold Steady are my generation’s collective E Street Band, then the Modern Society must be my John “Cougar” Mellencamp. Take that as you will.

On the plus side, the album is arguably filler-free and fast-paced. 10 songs, 35 minutes, no frills. And producer Stacy Jones (American Hi-Fi) gives the songs a pretty good sheen. Simply put, these guys could open for Aerosmith or something. But there’s little here to push me to either condemn or condone the Modern Society.

Opener “Matinee” sets the record’s formula. Vocalist Woody Brown is at the forefront, and dude’s got a decent set of pipes. Little bit of a whine, little bit of a howl, but nothing too offensive in any direction. The chorus is vaguely catchy – dig the gang vox. “Paper Moon” is the same song but catchier; it’s arguably the strongest track too. But nothing really breaks out of the speakers, as song by bland song rushes by. “Tokyo,” a love song to a Japanese girl half a world away, only stands out because it A) features Japanese and B) makes me want to put on Pinkerton. “Cosmonaut” is kind of infectious, though sometimes I just think that it sticks in my head because of the title. Space!

Still, The Beat Goes On is by no means a failure. It’s just an example of how you can make a record that’s technically accomplished yet totally boring. Besides, the Modern Society definitely has enough hooks to deserve radio play and an opening slot on a big name tour. The beat goes on, alright, but I’m already on another tune.

The Mountain Goats - 'All Hail West Texas'

[This one was written to expand the Org's archives.]

Though he now enjoys a sizeable following thanks to anthems like “This Year,” there was once a point were the Mountain Goats, a.k.a. John Darnielle, were just a guy and a guitar. Supporting characters came and went (bassist Rachel Ware, the Bright Mountain Vocal Choir), but for the most part, it was just Darnielle, consistently turning out the best lyrics and stories ever. You like lo-fi? The majority of TMG’s records were recorded on 20-something-year-old boomboxes, and you can actually hear the tape turning round and round on the recordings. You like concept albums? Try All Hail West Texas, a loose collection of stories “about seven people, two houses, a motorcycle, and a locked treatment facility for adolescent boys.” Arguably his best record since he debuted on CD with Zopilote Machine (P.S. -- this guy used to be cassette-only. The early ’90s were different, man), All Hail West Texas is rife with vivid imagery and bombastic acoustic guitar.

“The best ever death metal band out of Denton…” I think the best way to sum up my high school years vs. my college years goes like this: I spent a lot of time in high school feeling like no one else liked the Mountain Goats, or Jawbreaker, or Jets to Brazil, or even the freaking Smiths, and therefore no one would ever understand or love me (This is how I used to think all the time, so you can see why I was an unhappy youth). Then I went to college and met a lot of people who did know what was up. My God, how many times have I heard people strum “The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton” at parties? How many times have I danced a fit to “Jenny?” Conversely, my most vivid high school memory of All Hail West Texas is being begged to turn off “Blues in Dallas” because the keyboard line was “stupid.”

But enough with the emotional baggage. All Hail West Texas feels like the culmination of Darnielle’s boom box aesthetic. This album isn’t just symbolic of the last seven years of my life, it’s symbolic of the lo-fi sound -- lurking in the murky depths is a phantom orchestra, unleashing the most complex constructions you’ve literally ever imagined. I can hear drums buried in the mix, even though I know they’re not really there. It’s fitting then, that Texas became the last lo-fi TMG record, as Darnielle would make the jump to 4AD and high fidelity later in the year with Tallahassee.

Musically, TMG is pretty basic with just acoustic guitar chords. And Darnielle’s nasally voice can be a deal-breaker for some. His greatest strength lies in his words, although I’d argue that he knows how to deliver a hook or two. Every Mountain Goats record has at least one song that will change your DNA, like The Sunset Tree’s “This Year” or Zopilote Machine’s “Going to Georgia.” Texas knocks out two of ’em up front without breaking a sweat. First comes “The Best Ever Death Metal in Denton,” the tale of “a couple of guys who’d been friends since grade school / One was named Cyrus and the other was Jeff / and they practiced twice a week in Jeff’s basement.” What follows is the band’s history. Though they never settled on a name, “the top three contenders / after weeks of debate / were Satan’s Fingers, and the Killers, and the Hospital Bombers.” The band gets dumped on, Cyrus goes to art school and gets dumped on some more, and then the guys get angry, swearing that “The best ever death metal band out of Denton / will in time both outpace and outlive you.” Oh yeah, and uh, “Hail Satan!”

“Denton” gives way to “Fall of the Star High School Running Back,” which boasts one of my favorite lines ever. After blowing his knee out at an out of town game, William Stanaforth Donahue starts dealing drugs. Here’s the killer: “But selling acid was a bad idea / and selling it to a cop was a worse one.” Will ends up in jail; song ends.

Texas is filled with these character sketches and lines. “Jenny” is about a date with the coolest kid with the sweetest motorcycle (“You pointed your headlamp toward the horizon / We were the one thing in the galaxy / God didn’t have his eyes on / 900 CCs of raw whining power / No outstanding warrants for my arrest / Hi-diddle-dee dee / God damn! / The pirate’s life for me!”). Conversely, “The Mess Inside” is about taking vacation after vacation in an attempt to rekindle a dead romance (“Found that bench we’d sat together on a thousand years ago / when I felt such love for you I thought my heart was gonna pop / And I wanted you, to love me like you used to do / But I cannot run, And I can’t hide / From the wreck we’ve made of our house / and the mess inside”). A lot of the songs have a moral ambiguity to them (“Color in Your Cheeks,” “Jeff Davis County Blues”), catching characters in moments of desperation and elation.

But it’s always moving and beautiful. Darnielle’s songs defy rock expectations by nature of their sound quality, though he also goes to great lengths to bring back sex and God and the blues. Which brings me back to the lo-fi symbolism bit -- deceptively simple, the whole universe (or at least Western Texas) resides in these songs.

Now, I’m not going to tell you to listen to All Hail West Texas. I mean, you should, because it’s one of the best albums of all time. But still, it’s your life; do what you want. But I would like you try this: Here are the chords and lyrics to “The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton.” Sing it while you’re sober, or drunk, or in that buzzed mid-point where you’re still funny and coherent. I think you might have fun.

Mew - 'No More Stories Are Told Today I’m Sorry They Washed Away No More Stories The World Is Grey I’m Tired Let’s Wash Away'

Four years after the hugely awesome and critically loved …And the Glass Handed Kites, Danish prog-poppers Mew finally return with No More Stories Are Told Today I’m Sorry They Washed Away No More Stories The World Is Grey I’m Tired Let’s Wash Away. Yes, I did double the word count on that sentence by mentioning the full title (and with only one comma!). And yes, I did copy and paste the title. But while Stories’ name is a self-indulgent mouthful, the songs contained within are anything but. Fans get another round of proggy, shoegazey, post-whatever dance tunes. More rocking than Sigur Rós, M83 or Jesu, dreamier than Mogwai, and more technical than Ride or My Bloody Valentine ever got, Mew somehow sound distinct yet familiar, impenetrable yet welcoming.

If Kites was ambitious for being conceived as a single continuous song, Stories outmatches it in less than a tenth of the time with its opening track, “New Terrain.” The Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC) would’ve loved this song in the ’80s. Tipper Gore wasted a lot of time looking for hidden messages in songs played backwards. “New Terrain” is actually one of the few to contain such a trick – play it backwards, and you get the vinyl-only closing number “Nervous.” Stuttering second track and lead single “Introducing Palace Players” is where the record really kicks in, and it carries a hint of Kite’s hit single “Special” in its DNA. More dreamscapes follow from there.

Oddly enough, any complaints worth leveling against Stories in comparison to Kites are the same that also plagued Kites. Namely, it’s a more “difficult” record. Stories doesn’t have obvious singles like Kites’ “Special” or “The Zookeeper’s Boy,” although “Beach” would definitely be a good third single. But then again, a lot of people thought Kites, with its single song cycle, wasn’t as listener-friendly as 2003’s Frengers. Additionally, the lyrics don’t seem to do anything other than provide syllables – will anyone top the technical proficiency and emotional depth of Asia’s “Heat of the Moment?” – but Sigur Rós sings in a freaking made-up language, so whatever.

It’s not so much what vocalist/guitarist Jonas Bjerre says but how he says it, which is true for most rock music. He emotes beautifully from line to line, lending a resonance that is felt more than strictly understood. Which is perhaps the best way to explain Stories, and Mew in general. These songs are damn entertaining, the most accessible prog rock to come out in years. And while the average listener might not be able to play songs like “Hawaii” or “Cartoons and Macramé Wounds,” he or she should definitely recognize those songs’ dance value.