Print Edition: October 3, 2012
Dum Dum Girls
End of Daze
“Mine Tonight” introduces End of Daze with a stately, unhurried march that reinforces Dum Dum Girls’ expanding range and maturity. First appearing amid a wave of surf/garage acts circa 2008, the band has worked to distinguish itself by mining darker and more complex territory with each subsequent release. End of Daze is the band’s fourth record co-produced by Brill building veteran Richard Gottehrer, who tellingly penned hits like “I Want Candy” and “My Boyfriend’s Back” before going on to produce power pop and punk acts such as Blondie and Richard Hell in the 1970s. Gottehrer’s production perfectly accentuates Dum Dum Girls’ moody, damaged and darkly thrilling garage pop. Conviction and self-doubt characterize lead singer Dee Dee’s further reflection on the aftermath of her mother’s death. While their elemental musical philosophy remains intact, the band delves deeper into the genre than their contemporaries; take the gorgeously simple, achingly vulnerable “Trees and Flowers” or the “Crimson and Clover”-quoting “Lord Knows” which kicks off with a compressed drum beat that wouldn’t feel out of place on an early hip hop single. Garage rock is often at its best in short, hook-heavy bursts. This makes an EP the perfect format to showcase Dum Dum Girls’ increasingly singular take.
Wild Nothing
Nocturne
Reticent and abstract even as words and guitars and strings direct, Wild Nothing continues an un-unique way of explaining the possibilities of being in love professed “if you asked me to” in Nocturne. Main member Jack Tatum drifts along, comfortable in the space of the act, the corners of the album, falling for everything he sees – but passing the responsibility of action to an indefinite “you.” The soundtrack consists of tightly circling guitars, uplifting contrails of voices, softly landing rapid percussion accompanies. In Nocturne’s central song, love is declared for “Only Heather,” but of course other names of desire appear in neighboring tracks, the “high” (fantasy) felt at name’s mention turns as Tatum shrinks into “better to fake/than to love her for real.” It would be easy to situate Nocturne in dream pop land, though in “Counting Days,” “dreaming has come undone,” or predict from the first chords its consistency in style, in all but the disco-striving “Paradise.” It may be easier still to sweep it, in error, under the meaningless “indie” umbrella, for in Nocturne’s musical synchronicity and voicings, Wild Nothing is independent of nothing, existing as a self-placed piece, wanting desperately to be a part of, reciprocated, in dependency.
Mumford & Sons
Babel
The banjo used to inspire massive eye-rolls at concerts and was mostly an instrument of comedy acts, but because of its incorporation into modern acts like Sufjan Stevens and the Avett Brothers, it has become a somewhat respectable instrument – yet Mumford & Sons look to change that. The band’s sophomore release Babel, aka Sigh No More II: It Doesn’t Get Any Better is devoid of any significant evolution in the band’s sound. It assaults the listener with nonstop kick drum and indistinguishable climaxes that fade into generic background folk music. Their shallow cry at genuineness does not deal in subtlety or variation of any kind. The biggest departure from their formula of starting quiet and going loud is found on the first track and single “I Will Wait.” The band periodically stops dead mid-song to let lead singer Marcus Mumford get quiet, showing some progress into more diverse arrangements. Unfortunately, Mumford & Sons’ unbridled sincerity and drive can’t cover up for their lack of nuance, dynamics and genuine emotion, coming across as another overproduced British boy band.
The Glorious Dead
The Heavy
This band sounds like The Black Keys on drugs, and I’m talking about the good stuff. The album opens with a vintage radio drama snippet warning the listener against the horrors of “the she-beast,” and continues on apace. The lyrics are recklessly honest, kind of like you’re sharing a joint with the lead singer. He passes you a doobie, warns you against this ex-girlfriend who has “VENOM LIKE A COBRA” and has her “SHIT ON ELEVEN.” (That’s the other thing about this album – the listener gets the innate feeling that the lyrics are in all caps.) The elements of this album are unlikely, but perfect together. It sounds like the soundtrack to a seventies Halloween TV special: the bright colours and crazy outfits of Moulin Rouge on LSD, meet Tim Curry from Rocky Horror Picture Show, and have a play-date in the carnival from Zombieland, which is populated with anyone who has ever been way too into Mardi Gras. Every song is rife with animal and magical imagery, and these elements combine with string instrumentals and smooth-funk undertones to produce an album that is creepy, sneaky, catchy, bright and ultimately ready for Halloween. Turn this shit on eleven and leave it there.
