Print Edition: February 27, 2013
Johnny Marr
The Messenger
By his 24th birthday, guitarist and songwriter Johnny Marr had already carved out a legacy by way of four albums and a handful of indelible singles recorded with the most important alternative British band of the ’80s, The Smiths. His jangly, Rickenbacker-powered guitar playing paved the way for the ’90s wave of Britpop bands who followed, everyone from The Stone Roses to Oasis. Since The Smiths parted ways in 1987, Marr has lingered in the shadows, lending his talents as a guitarist and songwriter out to other bands. He has put in time as a member of The The, Modest Mouse and The Cribs and contributed to a variety of other artists as a session musician. Miraculously, The Messenger, as it turns out, is Marr’s first solo album proper. And it sounds like it picks up right where The Smiths left off, minus the Morrissey of it all. The guitar lines are clean and intricate, with sharp production values, but the song writing falls a little flat in places. “European Me” and “Upstarts” soar, but there is little other than the guitar playing to distinguish much of the rest of the album from that released by any other hackneyed post-2000s Britpop revivalist.
Radar Brothers
Eight
Past albums by Jim Putnam and company have covered everything from dreamy, melodic and guitar-driven pop to a more college rock vibe, but lately, their albums have a tendency to just drift on by, leaving nothing for the listener to grab on to. However, Eight, the veteran indie rockers’ seventh album is a return to form. Containing 11 diverse tunes and nice jolts of energy along the way, the album keeps the listener engaged by providing layer upon layer of sonic landscapes. Opener “If We Were Banished” is a shoegaze throwback that washes over its listener with a dreamy crush of guitars. Simultaneously soothing and stirring up agitation, Putnam’s warm, choirboy vocals are instantly arresting. The middle of Eight is a little bit doughy, but songs like the very natural “Couch” has a call and response chorus reminiscent of Stone Temple Pilots “Ride the Cliché,” while “Ebony Bow” evokes Yoshimi-era Wayne Coyne songwriting structure. The closing track “Horse Down” perfect balances the Radar Brothers’ dichotomy between the personal and the grand, with Putnam sprawling vocals repeating, “It’s a gonna be a long night ahead” as the album fades.
Silverstein
This Is How the Wind Shifts
For a moment, imagine you have seven small stories in front of you; stories that would take you four to seven minutes to tell. Now imagine cutting your stories in two and putting them in two stacks. One stack consists of the first halves of your stories, the other stack contains the other sides of the tales. Now take your first stack, and place it on top of stack number two. Congratulations, you have just emulated the latest effort from the Ontario quintet known as Silverstein. This album charts new territory for the band in a couple ways: first off, it’s their first album with a line-up change (new guitarist); as well it’s a new take on concept albums. Technically speaking, this is their second concept album, but fitting the seven small unrelated stories into one album is a feat few, have ever dared to accomplish. Silverstein accomplishes this task. Employing their familiar style of harsh and clean verses and clean choruses with insanely catchy hooks—simple yet effective riffs—with songs full of energy and emotion, any person looking for new rock, punk, or even metal should find something enjoyable here. Whether you listen in order, or decide to merge the stories (such as tracks three, “Massachusetts” and 10, “California”) give This Is How the Wind Shifts a listen.
Shout Out Louds
Optica
It seems a personal yearning has temporarily been served after waiting some time for an ’80s album to drop. And here, with Optica, the Shout Out Louds have delivered with tracks that could just have easily been pulled from 30 years ago. Taking a lot from the new wave scene, this is typically my sound: synth-heavy, tender and affected. Unfortunately this comes at a price as they have abandoned their brand of indie pop that they’ve made famous through the kind of music that can soundtrack a life. So the question is if it’s worth it. And sadly it’s not, as many tracks ring hollow. But this also brings up the idea that maybe the band has exhausted itself since their breakout 10 years ago. Of course, that doesn’t mean this album is a write-off by any means – it’s just not the Shout Out Louds of old. And while certainly there are some tracks on here that do make me begin to question what was just written, such as “Blue Ice”, those songs are the first four on the album. By the end these standouts are forgotten and, at 14 tracks spanning nearly an hour, the album feels too long and drawn out. But it is a brief journey to a decade of music that does deserve greater revival.
