Print Edition: May 21, 2014
Wussy
Attica!
Not a protest lyric like Lennon’s or Scott-Heron’s, Wussy’s “Attica!” understatedly makes a fatalistic romance out of Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon, evoking not only the crowd-rousing theatrics of Pacino’s memorable performance, but the slow realization between police sergeant and Sonny’s partner: “Don’t you think he sort of did it for you?” Wussy is a band that sings about the moments in songs when “the beat of the drum lines up with the beat of your heart,” but they envelope what could be mere spoken worship for The Who with the work of crafting a five-piece melody, shared harmony that also ably pulls off album-starting fireworks (“Teenage Wasteland”), late summer piano-driven pieces (“North Sea Girls,” “Halloween”) and doom-reverb sincerity (“Rainbows and Butterflies”). Lisa Walker and Chuck Cleaver share vocals and song-writing — she carries the album standouts, including the title track, giving each rhyme a hard-won clarity, while Cleaver’s bass-baritone drawl shifts moods unpredictably, not as comfortably full of gravitas as someone like Cash, and just as distinctive because of that, skillfully timing each storytelling duet. “It’s all been done to death,” opens one song, and Walker and Cleaver look back at the shadow of 20 years in the album’s closer, but rather than stop short, they find something effusive and specific in each self-contained song.
Beck
Morning Phase
Beck Hansen is a man who spoons his own voice with harmonies and achieves a fat acoustic sound. It’s simply delicious. Morning Phase resembles his earlier work Sea Change, but his musical growth from then to now is certainly present. Utilizing his own voice for unique three-part harmonies, with his rich caramelized timbre sounding much like Simon and Garfunkel, and sitting in a rhythmic pocket of glorious syncopation by hammering his acoustic’s strings, Beck in Morning Phase emanates rich sounds and reflective content as he sings about love, loneliness, and the new day. This neo-folk artist draws the listener into a familiar but fresh sound, as his melodies wrap their comforting arms around your ears and carry you away into the dawn.
Open Letters
This Song was Supposed to be Called ‘Existence is Futile’ but Revocation Stole it from Us
The first 40 seconds of “This Song was Supposed to be Called ‘Existence is Futile’ but Revocation Stole it from Us” are so downright exhilarating and catchy that the aforementioned death metal band — who, as implied by the name of this Open Letters jam, were so impressed with the song title that they went back in time to use it first — have some pretty big past-tense shoes to fill if they wish to cop more than just the name. Vocalist / guitarist Reuben Houweling belts out breakneck (in more than one sense) ruminations on the inability of emotion to bring back the dead, followed up the cheery band-sing-along “these feelings are so worthless.” It would have been a complete hardcore jam if it ended at the 40 second mark; but the band opts to power through, slowing down the song’s melody-jumping but not the tempo. Recorded at the same time as 1-6, the tune embodies the style expounded on in that EP: it sounds cheerful with its major key pop-punk melodies, until attention is given to the morbid lyrics on death and self-uselessness. This doesn’t make the band’s music necessarily, absolutely melancholic; rather, the effect is rather immensely cathartic. It feels bloody amazing to belt along to this song. And when that “these feelings are so worthless” coda comes around again, you will understand the appeal of primal scream therapy.
