Print Edition: November 28, 2012
Crystal Castles
(III)
Every point is a point of no return, crashing violently into the next, and yet, Crystal Castles’ (III) also contains the impulse, however resisted, to repair – between Alice Glass’s pristine/distorted voice and Ethan Kath’s rhythmic/dissonant production there is the paradoxical urgency to embody the frequently phrased level of “purity,” announced clearly from within the noise of “Plague.” Glass’s voice exists both as a register to be manipulated and a force separate, working against the surrounding dance/clamour, screaming while drowned under furious electronic waves, emerging to deliver, at times, deliberate, unimpeded lyrics. On “Kerosene” it’s pitched as frontal accelerated, while Glass maintains the line of “I’ll protect you from all the things I’ve seen,” a desire both conflicted and unattainable, yet within Crystal Castles’ changeable structures convincing as musical ideal – broken by the omni-register “you can’t disguise” of the driving “Sad Eyes” but seemingly confirmed by the alternately soothing “Affection.” If the cumulative layers render most of Glass’s words indecipherable, there remains the tug of motion, the flow of syllables and tone to break against digital seams as on “Transgender” – it’s the sound of the words that matters, an approach that culminates in the inanimate/living finality/circularity of “Child I Will Hurt You.”
Jessica Pratt
Jessica Pratt
San Francisco folk chanteuse Jessica Pratt has the kind of singularly beautiful and unorthodox voice that does not demand attention, but draws it in with a kind of quiet, warbling intensity. On her contemplative and utterly gorgeous debut, Pratt allows her remarkable voice, melancholic finger-picked acoustic guitar and timeless, jazz-informed song writing speak for itself. This record is unadorned and simplified to the point that production feels more like an afterthought, some tracks bathing in ambient room sound but never overcome by the echo or reverb that often hides others’ lacklustre singing. The slight imperfections, from the occasionally buzzing guitar strings and delicately half-whistled lyric on “Casper,” are charming in a homespun, well-worn sort of way. Pratt’s music channels a certain dark complexity that, paired with a childlike sense of wonder, brings to mind the doomed beauty of Nick Drake. This is an album that plays a lot like its cover art: a stark, but inviting black-and-white portrait, comfortably close-up and honest, with an infinite gaze, like a dispatch from some distant time or place. It’s not a retro pastiche, but a world that plays by its own rules, existing on it’s own plane outside of strictly contemporary concerns. Pratt’s self-titled album is dark, self-assured, cosmic yet intimate, haunting, meditative, secluded, sylvan, tranquil and uniquely spellbinding.
The Evens
The Odds
Are punk rockers meant to grow old? Punk rockers, who established themselves in a subculture of live-fast-die-young, usually flame out in some spectacular disaster. While many of his contemporaries have either pushed forward or hung it up, 50-year-old Ian MacKaye, lead singer of the currently inactive Fugazi, has changed the formula. He and Amy Farina, his wife and drummer in The Evens recorded The Odds, an album that sounds a bit like Mackaye’s former bands reduced to a simmer. Though the hardcore elements of his music have been reduced, Mackaye’s politically-charged lyrics are as potent as ever. The catchy lead single “King of Kings” has the loudest punk-inspired outbursts of the album. The song feels like a grassroots protest “another street without a light,” “another dream without a night” against social inequality. A low-key affair, The Odds is a punk record dressed up in pop clothing. Going against the grain of the seemingly unavoidable reverb-drench rock or shimmering synth pop of modern indie rock, The Evens opt for a stripped-down, radically minimal production. With little distracting studio gloss, the leftover negative space adds to the album’s rough edge and feeling of shared intimacy, rather than subtract from it.
DragonForce
The Power Within
When bands have their lead singer leave, it usually leads to drastic changes, whether it’s changing the band name, changing their style of play, or even disbanding. For DragonForce, they went with none of the above. With a new lead singer in tow, the band best known for having “The Hardest song on Guitar Hero” unleash a new album of fast-paced fury for all power metal fans who want a dose of speed. With familiar sounding tracks such as “Fallen World,” or a fresh take that’ll make you want to drop whatever is in your hands, pick up a Viking hammer, and storm over hills for power and glory which is the case when “Cry Thunder” starts to play. And while they still have the usual seven-minute long song, there’s only one this time around. While this is a difference, it’s still an excellent album that flows well and sounds familiar while still proving the growth and diversity they’ve displayed in recent years. Definitely check The Power Within out if you want to give your fingers an air guitar workout, or if you want to unleash your inner 10th century soldier.
