I definitely work based off recommendation. As Cathy from Sargent House Records has tweeted recently, Gypsyblood is a favorite new band she is pumping. Of course this is a good thing since SHR line up has some of the best musicians in the indie scene right now… and when SHR says a band is on the up and coming, it’s most likely because it’s true.

Gypsyblood, a Chicago product, just put out an EP today (it’s August 23rd today). Gypsyblood is the sort of music I wish Xiu Xiu was: a bit more streamlined in the approach rather than abstract and distracting, a bit more vocals than random noises from instruments, and a bit more fun in general rather than loathing and depressing. Other than the upgraded version of Xiu Xiu, Gypsyblood would most likely attract shoegaze fans of The Radio Dept and jj, whereas the other side of their sound will attract big guitar fans of Surfer Blood, Fang Island, and Russian Circles. Check out Gypsyblood EP below:

Big rock meets loud vocals. Dash in a bit of long form choruses and verses here and there and you have a recipe for something very interesting. It’s not as overly dramatic as most shoegaze seems to be these days, and that’s great. Usually, shoegaze and that crop of indie music that calls itself experimental leaves a bad taste in my mouth after I finish an album, but Gypsyblood is more of an appetizer I wish were a main course. Got to love the full guitar sound and not leaving anything behind. It seems as if most bands lately are over-thinking their riffs, becoming too technical or saving the shredding for later… Gypsyblood has a swagger that seems as if it just comes together and fuses into a nice pile of rock music.

Obviously, the cons aren’t too bad since there were only three songs to judge a band by. The dynamic of this band is yet to be determined. In a longer form of judgement (aka more songs) I might lean to say this band has a honed sound but doesn’t depart from it, which potentially leads to boredom after the initial love-shock wears off… although I might be very wowed and impressed about the depth of sound these guys could achieve. In either case, the jury isn’t necessarily out on Gypsyblood yet… so only time will tell whether or not these guys are the ish or just another pile of ish.

You can’t go wrong with a condensed bite-sized version of good rock. Whether or not it’s something that can keep it’s flavor is something to be on-the-look-out for. Until that time, enjoy these guys. Would love to see a Gypsyblood and Russian Circles show. Please, Cathy?

Neumos is a venue in Seattle best described as a ‘dungeon-like fire trap’. It’s a dark, unusually warm space with a capacity for only mid-level independent acts; really popular groups have to play elsewhere. Brother Ali can play Neumos. Atmosphere can’t.

The other thing about Neumos is that it’s not known for its subtlety with quiet bands. I walked out of a show last year when the ham-handed sound guy couldn’t figure out how to make The Ruby Suns not sound like they were performing an exorcism on stage, so I was apprehensive about seeing Freelance Whales in this setting. Because while I have a so-so relationship with The Ruby Suns, I love Freelance Whales. Their debut album, Weathervanes, is on my list of favorites for the year and I had a momentary, panicky suspicion that the sound guy was going to force me to write a bad review of a band I like through no fault of their own and I would be forced to set his car on fire after the show.

Luckily, neither of those things happened. But I digress.

First up was Arkells, a powerhouse from Hamilton, Ontario that grabbed the crowd by the balls and didn’t let go for the entirety of their set. The band is a perfect triangulation of LCD Soundsystem dance-rock, Ike Reilly Assassination rockabilly-fringed alt-country, and Born Ruffians indie-pop spotless musicianship. Arkells has exploded from a humble regional beginning, touring internationally, playing the halftime show at the Vanier Cup, and winning a Juno award. But I didn’t know any of this going in; all I knew was that five dudes were ripping it up on stage opening for a band that uses a glockenspiel as a central part of their act. And I was impressed. Arkells’ set was perfectly paced and lead singer Max Kerman had fantastic stage presence. I’ve seen a lot of half-assed opening bands with big dreams that couldn’t keep the 50 people present from wandering off to the bar or bathroom, but Arkells reminded me of an adolescent bear that hasn’t yet realized its strength. When it does, it’s going to tear your face off.

After Arkells, Freelance Whales were an adjustment. It was like taking a double-shot of bourbon then trying to drink a nice port; the first sip is bound to taste funky, but each ensuing sip gets more delicious. And thankfully, both for myself and for the sound guy’s vehicle, Freelance Whales sounded good. The bass levels were way too high for a band that isn’t afraid to let a banjo keep the beat on record, but the overall sound quality was solid.

What was less solid was lead singer Judah Dadone’s breath control, which reminded me of exactly why rappers have hype men. In all fairness, it was fucking hot inside Neumos; Seattle was having its hottest day of the year and in a city where no one has air conditioning, that meant the dungeon of Neumos was close to triple digit temperatures. Sweating profusely before he even took the stage, Dadone fumbled the crowd-pleaser ‘Hannah’, turning the lilting kitsch-rap verses into an awkward half-song when he lost breath and trailed off toward the end of each line. For literate lyrics and precise imagery ala Ben Gibbard or Jason Lytle to work, the entire lyric/image is required. It would be like a novelist skipping the last few words of each sentence when he does a reading; how the hell are you supposed to follow the plot?

I think the ideal setting for Freelance Whales is a smaller venue with better acoustics (and AC), but despite these mild issues, the band was in good form and the crowd loved them. Freelance Whales whipped through virtually their entire album, including a well-calculated block of crowd favorites (‘Hannah’, ‘Starring’, ‘Location’) in the middle. Each member of the band sang and played at least three instruments, showcasing a group of super-talented young musicians who have stumbled onto a formula for simplistic, lush, and loveable music that, mark my words, will be featured in at least one awkward romantic comedy starring Michael Cera in 2011.

MakeupBreakup is something between interesting and dirty. On one hand, this album makes me feel like I’m listening to power-pop from the 90s. On the other hand, this makes me want to go to a show and get turned down by stuck up hipster girls. In either case, this music is definitely emotive… to say the least.

The Providence band releases Scents August 31st and is slowly gaining some hype from some of us bloggers. These guys are a mix of Placebo meets… I don’t know. Something dance-y. Action Action comes to mind, but these guys aren’t as angsty as Action Action. Then I think maybe Gatsby’s American Dream, but these guys aren’t really on the same instrumentation par of GAD. Then I start thinking about all of those early 2000′s dance jam bands and I am reminded of a happier time. Dance party shows. Accidentally head-butting girls in the dance pit (sorry again). Minus the Bear without long hair + without albums after Menos el Oso. A nostalgic aura, indeed. However, how does that fair for MakeupBreakup though? Here’s a sample from the album:

Dance your face off rock meets 90s vocals you miss. MakeupBreakup breaks my heart because it’s everything the indie music scene isn’t putting out right now. Simple 4/4 time meets catchy choruses. Happy guys meet rock band instruments. It’s hard not to smile when listening to this. I would know since while driving around with this album on, some girl thought I was smiling at her. She looked away disgusted. Probably because my car is way dirty.

Yet another double-edged sword. As much as I love Brian Molko (and as much as Michael Lamantia Jr sounds like Brian Molko), the vocals will be the acquired taste for this band. If this doesn’t deter you, prospective listener, then the next hurdle would be whether or not you like dance rock. If you don’t, leave. Who doesn’t like smiling? Who doesn’t like head butting girls in the dance pit? People who are not happy people. That’s who.

Love it. That’s just me. But the band and the music is way fun too. Sure, it’s dance rock… and that’s not crazy-new… but it’s the vocal clone of Brian Molko. And for people who wanted to know what Placebo as a dance band would sound like, it’s this. And it’s awesome.

If there was a name for each week out of the year, this week would be called “wtfmusic week”. The Spies are no exception.

The Spies fall into that category I mentioned not-so-long ago where they are playing music that sounds fun to play but I wouldn’t necessarily want to listen to it. Check it out.

You might want to check out something with better quality… check it out here.

It’s all solid. The band, the vocals, the production. There isn’t anything technically wrong with the playing or the musicianship. There isn’t really much wrong with these guys other than the genre choice. These guys would probably be some of the best go-to studio musicians if you were to need house musicians for anything. In fact, the album itself would be great in a muzak setting (a bar, a rockin’ coffee shop, a loud street corner, etc).

The music has been played. Each one of these songs is a composite of some combination of songs before… and although that sounds dumb because all music today is a composite of songs before, this band takes it a step further than just “mediocre”. It’s more along the lines of lifeless. That’s a little cold, but there is no personality in this music. I can’t hear it. It’s like I said before, this sure seems fun to play but I would not want to play this kind of music for longer than a band practice session.

For these guys, I truly wish they find something less generic and more interesting. I get the Spoon vibe at times but it doesn’t leave a nice taste. It’s more of a hint of Spoon and a whole lot of old school rock mixed with pop-sounding keyboards mixed in. At times it’s grimy in a good way and at other times it’s grimy in a bad way. I could see these guys dropping the pop and kicking up the experimental sound to make something wild. I could even see these guys adding more instrumentation if they wanted to get more elaborate. At this point, anything will help.

Seattle orchestral pop group Grand Hallway has had quite a year; they earned a live showcase on KEXP, were invited to play SXSW, and scored a prime spot on the Vera stage at the Capitol Hill Block Party, where I saw them perform for the first time.

From listening to Grand Hallway’s records, I expected a set full of fragile, highly orchestrated baroque-pop songs ala Owen Pallett or Joanna Newsom, and in that respect I wasn’t disappointed. What disappointed wasn’t the music at all, but Grand Hallway’s choice of presentation.

Lead singer and songwriter Tomo Nakayama is clearly a talented dude, trading piano for guitar and blasting competently through every track. Vocalist, pianist, and accordionist Shenandoah Davis, though one of the newest members of the band, is also an impressive onstage presence (that’s her below doing a solo gig). The other Grand Hallway highlight was drummer Joel Harmon, who managed to make his drumming a showpiece through creative use of his sticks, his rims, and a dish towel, meanwhile never overpowering the fragile harmonies which, I must say, were the standout aspect of the show. The way that Shenandoah’s voice lays atop Tomo’s so carefully sounded to me the way great ice sculptures look. Listening to their voices dance around each other, and with a minimum of obvious communication between the two, gave me chills.

Had the show been confined to those three, I think I would have been blown away. Instead, I left with the bloated feeling that comes from eating a 10-course meal when the first few dishes would have sufficed.

There were a total of seven people on stage, and yet there wasn’t a song played that necessitated more than five people. Most songs could have been handled quite capably as a three-piece of guitar, keyboards, and drums. Every once in a while, Grand Hallway’s arrangements require a violin, but the band doubled down with two female violinists, neither of whom appeared comfortable on stage, and who never heightened the music beyond the capacity of a single violin. The bassist played simple, forgettable bass lines, and then there was the other guitarist who spent most of the show turned away from the crowd and might not have even been plugged in for all the volume and depth he added to the set. The only time he was completely audible was when he hopped on the banjo for two or three songs. Even then, he spent half the time tapping the instrument for percussion, which would have been just as effective– and way more entertaining– with a Pringles can.

None of the musicians of Grand Hallway are untalented, they are simply unnecessary in such a limited live setting. It would be like if the Beatles were a sextet, and the last two members did nothing but play the whiskey jug and marimba on stage; or like Ben Carr, the Mighty Mighty Bosstones’ designated skanker, if he took himself seriously.

And to be clear, the band’s web site lists 8 members– I didn’t even see the full gang at work.

Grand Hallway makes chamber music– intimate songs on intimate topics. Turning their live show into a large-scale affair undercut what makes their music powerful on record. Maybe there were trying to pull a Steely Dan and reproduce the swelling grandeur of their records exactly onstage, I don’t know. The point is: they don’t need to.

I won’t spend too much time fluffing this album up. I seriously can’t stand it.

This came through my mailbox earlier this month and was recommended as “energetic indie pop from The Netherlands”. I gave it a chance. I seriously did.

Her voice is good. No need for post-production magic for her. That’s the only plus it seems.

The lyrics are completely shallow. She bounces from the topical idea of taking her once-lover’s money to self-loathing hate as she talks about being single and a part from her once-lover (most likely different people, if they even exist). The music is something you could consider “stock jams”. When you buy DAW programs or musical production software, the instrumentals on this album would most likely be the instrumentals you would find as the demo music for those programs. The indie-rock, as she describes it, is very generic and probably would be in a hit in some European country lacking western pop/rock artists. Unfortunately, this is an indie music reviews website… and you’re up against indie-rock like Fang Island and The American Dollar.

It’s easy to see through production studio bullshit, especially when they don’t even try to hide it within some vapid experimental indie-pop soundscape. This was pretty unfortunate since she has a decent voice… but after this album, she is more likely to win a karaoke competition than a big record deal. Hope you like music more than money because at this rate you’ll spend yourself dry with all that studio time you’re booking.

Oh, how I hate you so...

To all readers, whether it’s new or old, into music or into ranting about Comcast, I hope this never happens to you. In fact, for this not to happen to you, please resort to any other means other than Comcast. A company that prides itself on customer relations and a home service has never been so backwards in my opinion.

This all started last week around Wednesday or Thursday. I got the keys to my new place and I wanted Comcast to be there when I moved in. Of course, that was wishful thinking since they are usually booked to the teeth a week in advance and I was moving in on Sunday. In any case, I decided to jump into the Comcast fray yet again. I have had Comcast in two previous dwellings before and most recently at my parents’ home. Needless to say, I was well versed in the Comcast fiasco of waiting on the phone or chatting to people via their live chat support. I did have hope that Comcast got better, now reinventing their line of products as “Xfinity” and the “Triple, Double, or Single Play” options. Maybe they also reinvented themselves as a reliable source for internet and TV in general.

This was not the case.

As I was chatting to this guy via their live chat feature about my installation appointment, he was trying to upsell me these other products Comcast provides. Of course, that’s his job… but what he failed to mention to me were the important aspects of my actual installation appointment. Such as: 1) how many TVs will need to be hooked up? 2) Are there outlets for all the TVs? 3) Are these TVs HDTV’s? 4) How many HDTV’s are there? …the list goes on, I’m sure. In any case, he says I’m ready to go and that my appointment is in the book. So I’m happy, I suppose.

I get an email saying that my date for my installation has be confirmed. A minute later I received an email saying that it was cancelled. A few minutes after that it was yet again confirmed. Confused, I assumed the date and time was ready to go…

Thursday rolls around and in anticipation for the guy being here on time (10am), I wake up and get ready. After sitting around for about thirty minutes for the guy to show up, I nod off back to bed… Only to be awakened by a phone call. Was it the Comcast guy??! Not at all. Just a friend asking if I was in town. At this point, it was noon. The installation window was supposed to be between 10am and 12pm. I go on the site to see if they have any answers for me, and Comcast’s customer service says that it is occasional that the installation window may need some forgiveness since every job an installer is assigned isn’t necessarily peg-holed into a specific time frame. Okay, whatever. The availability of the window was actually between 8am – 12pm with an asterisk. The asterisk denoted “*hours subject to availability” or some horse shit like that. Of course, this wasn’t known to me until I was confirmed for 10am. As if I supposedly said “YEAH, 10 AM SOUNDS GREAT! WAAAY BETTER THAN 8 AM!”.

Some dude rolls through about thirty minutes late (even though I believe he was technically two hours and thirty minutes late [or even more technically four hours and thirty minutes late since I never agreed to 10am being the initial start time]) smelling of tobacco and huffing and puffing as he carried some box filled with Comcast toys. I tell him what’s up: three TVs, the one in the living room gets the premium crap, and the modem goes into my room. He nods and starts it up. As he’s crawling around my living room he asks me for “more power”. So I scrounge up a power strip and hand it to him. Then he asks me for a TV. So I scrounge up the TV in my room for him to set stuff up on. He gets the jam working and everything seems as if this Comcast thing is going to work out fine. I ask about the other three boxes and he explains that the work order is only for one. I tell him I was never prompted with anything describing to me how many TVs I should have receivers for. He says that he has an extra one in his truck and that “we’ll go from there…” And boy, did we.

He comes into my room, a room with no cable outlets, and says to me, “we usually need consent to drill through walls from the owner… and I’m assuming you’re renting. But, if you toss me $15 then I can totally drill a hole through the wall and keep this hush hush.” I asked if there was any other way to do it and he said to me that the only other way is to not have my room set up and to just wait for Comcast to roll around again to set my room up on some other date. Perplexed, I went along with the idea. Which is when he tells me, “I have to go next door to fix up another place. But I’ll be back in an hour. Will you be here?” And I said yes, since this is my #1 priority. Unfortunately for me, it seems as if this dude played me.

As I walk outside to lock up my place, I noticed the half smoked cigarette my Comcast installer left on my door step. Great showmanship. I start walking out to pick up some stuff for dinner and that $15 that guy wants to drill a hole into my wall. I get back and start watching some TV on the one room this guy has installed. One hour rolls by. Then minutes tick away. I start timing things in commercial breaks. About four commercial breaks later, I notice it is now two hours after he said he’d be back. Completely at a loss, I get back on my computer and type up Comcast’s live support again. Of course, I explain what’s up to them and they don’t seem to understand that a dude just came in, installed some Comcast stuff in one room, and never installed the last room or the modem in the room or even drilled into my fucking wall illegally and under-handed a deal for some lunch money. Assuming that this poor customer service representative was doing the best he (or she) could from whatever outsourced country he (or she) was from, I get a call from “Jeff” the Comcast guy who was just at my place. I’m guessing my ruckus incited the customer service guy to call the local branch here to call “Jeff’s” supervisor, in order to call me to tell me Hey bruh, I didn’t forget about you. They sent me out here to do something that took longer that I thought. I’ll be by in about 10 to 15 minutes though. Fat fucking chance. I keep talking to the poor CSR guy about how to get someone here today to finish installing all my crap. All this guy could offer me was that third receiver box to be shipped to me. THAT’S NOT THE FUCKING PROBLEM, MAN. I NEED COMCAST TO SET MY SHIT UP BECAUSE I AM NOT A COMCAST INSTALLER!! In any case, he processes some order to me. About thirty minutes after that dude calls me to let me know he’s coming in 10 minutes, he shows up. He drills the hole in about 3 seconds and sets all the crap up in about 5 minutes. You really needed to do someone else’s house to fix or install shit when it really only took you 5 minutes to finish mine? He tells me to go to the local office and request another receiver for my place since the work order only had me down for one. I tell him, “I suppose” and ask if he wants to square up over the $15. He says, “yeah man, all I have is a $1 or a $100 though…” wrong fucking answer buddy. The right one should have been, “Ah, it’s cool. I put you on ice for over two hours. Sorry for the wait! Enjoy!” and take your nasty smoke smell with you. I throw him $20 and tell him to keep it. Get the fuck out.

Everything seems to be going fine and dandy until I start to configure my internet. I’ve hooked up wireless networks before and none came to as hard as what this came down to. I finally get it all up and running when the internet decides to blow out on me. Every hour or so, my modem stops working. No internet. No access. At times, it doesn’t even recognize that I’m sending packets from my computer at all. I get on the Comcast site again. After a good hour, the CSR girl tells me that anything from streaming videos to playing online games can affect my connection. Well shit. I guess that means “STOP PLAYING GAMES AND WATCHING YOUTUBE YOU FUCKING FOOL” doesn’t it? Way to go, “Anika”. This person runs some “troubleshooting” things on their end to ensure to me that my connection has improved. They mention every now and then that my modem might be defective. Yet again, completely confused… since I’ve been up waiting for these guys since 10am and it is now about 1 am the next morning. All “Anika” has for me is that the connection should be up and running for now and if the problem persists, take it in. Oh great. Let’s fucking DRIVE my ass to some hell hole where every one is angry, WAIT IN LINE until some unknowing part-timer gives me the third degree, RETURN the shit that just got installed in my apartment, and HOPE that the shit they give me in return works. Are you fucking serious???

As I type this, my internet connection troubleshooting with Anika was successful… for about 20 minutes. Since then, it has now been about two hours straight and my modem is not getting any internet connection at all. None whatsoever. It’s to the point where it says it isn’t sending any information from my computer. I write this to you from my laptop, stealing my neighbors’ internet to post this.

P.S. As if in some sick, Comcast-esque Saw film, my internet connection has come on. Woe is me.

Lately, many bands have been toying with the idea of many EP releases rather than a full length album every one to two years. This almost completely eliminates the idea of the extended length concept album. Enter Light Chasers by Cloud Cult. A seemingly traditional concept album about a journey of some sort, the music considered is anything but traditional.

These Twin City fellows have been in the process of experimenting with their own indie sound since 1995. I give it up to these guys, since it seems that their previous eight albums have all been close to breaking the surface but never quite obtaining something their fans could consider legend. Light Chasers seems to be the one that has broken through. A heavy mix of their old sound, infused with varying electronic production, and an inspiring concept behind the album makes this one a very pleasant surprise for 2010.

It’s what the Arcade Fire should have gone and released this year. It’s what The Flaming Lips wanted to be. Hell, it’s what The Polyphonic Spree should have been. Cloud Cult’s Light Chasers is something between a musical orgasm and a necessary release to make this indie-pop genre something different. This album spans practically every interesting bit of the indie scene. From orchestral-esque arrangements, to hard four-piece rock band sounds, all the way to the acoustic heart-breaker singer-songwriter. Usually, too much on an album never pays off, but Cloud Cult had an idea in mind and didn’t stop until it was practically perfect. Ambitious idea paid off.

Every now and then the production is a little more over-the-top than necessary. From excessive vocal arrangements to random choices of auto-tune. Most of the cons are based solely around the vocal arrangements. Musically, about half way through the album I felt as if it were a different album. This isn’t necessarily a con, since the album itself is a concept album and has a little more emphasis to do as far as mood and storytelling is concerned, but from a person interested in this as just music… it might be a little off putting. Especially since the electronic production is more prominent in the second half of the album. It would be like subtly changing between Jonsi’s Go into Owen Pallett’s Heartland except instead of single singer-songwriters it’s eight people.

I would hope some indie band out there who picks up this album is seriously inspired. I’d rather have bands like this out there than the slew of indie-pop that is just more along the lines of mainstream-pop you would hear on your local “alternative radio station”. Very good, Cloud Cult. Very good.

Smoosh, once girls now young ladies, have been an on-going work-in-progress since their inception in 2004. Since their very older-than-their-age-of-10 release in 2004, fans seem to have been looking for the next step from innocent indie-pop to something… bigger. Maybe bigger isn’t the best word, but even if that were the case… they seem to have stunted their own growth.

Withershins, the third album from the sisters, has this very indie and very stereotypical sound to it. One could say it is what CocoRosie should have done with their latest album this year. Another could say these girls could have done something a little more interesting.

Like a high-ceiling NFL draft prospect, these girls have much to look forward to. Hell, anyone pretty much wishes they were in these girls’ position at the age of 14 (now 18, 16, and 14). The musical ability of these girls are impressive, and the album itself should be a testament to how much these girls can roll with even the most seasoned of indie-pop acts.

The music genre: bland. The sound coming from this album: not surprising. The anticipation of four years for this album to come out: mostly a let down. It’s tough to be hard on these girls, since they are so young and they are of that age where the cool music to listen to is exactly the music they are producing, but when some wack ass magazine gives these girls a 9/10 because all their songs follow a “traditional indie pop” sound and their age is a “bonus”, it really tears me to bits. The music is lame. Joanna Newsom is the first thing that comes to mind when thinking of artists who are trying to edge their way outside of this indie-pop conundrum. Owen Pallett is another. These girls are caught in a tidal wave and will either be dragged out to sea, drowned, or washed up to shore unless they jump into another pool soon. And hopefully sooner than later.

Although this would have been mind blowing in the early 2000s, this is just more of the same for a dynamic time for indie music. The musicianship is there. The chemistry is there. Everything is there so long as they want it to be there (aka never going to college). They are queens without a country. I never suggest reinventing yourself as an artist, but expanding on your initial high-ceiling value is always necessary. As far as Withershins is concerned, I seriously would never recommend this. And, with the age-kicker, I hope these girls find a new home soon.