you're the shit, and i'm knee deep in it

lose your shirts in the fire tonight

2010-05-21T23:34:00.000-07:00

In “Conversation 16”, there’s this line that goes “I was afraid, I'd eat your brains”. Well this isn’t an album about zombies per se, but the figurative meaning would be indicative enough of what High Violet is all about. The National’s third album centres around social zombies, the kind where almost every ounce of life have been sucked out of them and all they’re left with are the horrors of a stoic living – you wake up, go to work, purposefully socialise, head back for domestic drama, feel the disappointment of life, and go to bed only to wake up to the same cycle the very next day. It is a near faultless album that doesn’t rely on convoluted rhymes and metaphors, look-what-I-can-do experimentations or Florence Welch’s vocals. It is an alternative rock album, pure and simple and fuzz-free, made by a band who knows exactly what they’re doing and who are currently the best at what they do.

This is the work of people who understand the transitory phase into adulthood, the acceptance of responsibility and expectancy, and the archaic bleakness of middle-life woes, of losing yourself but having no way out and of finding logic and purpose in this still-life madness.

It’s imprisonment. It’s desperation. It’s tragedy.

They then transpose these stories into a repertoire of handsomely and meticulously minted gems – exquisite, heartbreaking and eternal. The influence of Afghan Whigs is still here, but these guys stay true to their own distinctive sound, now primed with dark maturity and stark cynicism associated with growing up - a distinctive departure from the insouciant days of Alligator and Boxer. The proses are weighed with heavy-hearted lament, while the melodic lines are damp with expressions of guilt, angst and despondence.

“Terrible Love” is a maelstrom of blistering distortion assault, tortured vocals and bustling drumbeats. Lyrically, it is a journey of damning destruction with a befitting orchestration that crescendos and climaxes in a cacophonous, Explosions in the Sky-delirium. It’s the closest thing, sonically, to Frightened Rabbit’s The Winter of Mixed Drinks – and how much better that album would have been with a song like this.

Berninger’s mix of uneasy melancholy and sharp lyricism are still prevalent and best exemplified in “Sorrow” (“Don't leave my hyper heart alone on the water / Cover me in rag and bone sympathy”) and the self-reflection of privileged living in “Lemonworld” (“This pricey stuff makes me dizzy / I guess I've always been a delicate man / Takes me a day to remember a day”). In “Bloodhound Ohio” Berninger speaks of the longing for simple things like returning home, but with lingering unresolved issues, contrition and that sense of belonging that wasn’t even there in the first place (“I still owe money to the money to the money I owe / I never thought about love when I thought about home”).

But the essence of High Violet is crystallised in “Conversation 16” where the jaded, stagnancy of a caged lifestyle à la American Beauty is phrased with such utter urgency and elegance, further matched by Bryan Devendorf‘s deft, understated drumming ; it is here where his brilliance takes its full form.

“Runaway” is another gorgeously morose track that’s framed with layers upon layers of drifting horns and strings, impeccably highlighting the recurring theme of situational isolation and passive haplessness and Berninger’s voice never sounded so lush, lacerated and evocative.

High Violet is fully realised through and through, the irrefutable evidence that challenges preconceptions that music have to be elaborate and embellished. It is the dream of many a bands out there struggling to craft that truly great record that cements them as indie legends. It is the dream of established bands who, after an astounding masterpiece, gave up all hopes of ever having another one. Let this be the inspiration.

"Terrible Love"

take my hand, it's time to float away

2010-05-06T10:33:00.000-07:00

It’s amazing what you can do with a good-ol guitar, trusty drum set and some killer vocals. The White Stripes have done it before but, damn, the results you get from such minimalist instrumentation never cease to impress don’t it?

Off-handed yet heavy, From The Comfort Of Your Home is revamped 60’s rock, all hair-raising boisterous and beer-soaked gritty garage music with the punch of a Southern rock twang. Frontman Seth Heitzmann’s pipes - intuitively carnal and sharply commanding, with a swaggering panache of a Caleb Followill growl – greases the woofing guitar lines and rollicking drummings (courtesy of Lloyd Llewelyn) like coupling mayhem to mischief. Mixing garage and Southern rock is the predominant vibe in their debut album, played to fan-boy ecstasy in a plethora of tracks like “The Devil, The Matchmaker”, “Return to Sender”, “No Victim” and “Factory Town” all of which display Lloyd’s Garage’s knack for amplifying rock melodies and letting them go wild, as one note chases another in a rapturous firework of crackling mettle.

There’s also a welcomed deviant in the form of The Gaslight Anthem styled country punk in “Suitcase” with some interesting string work that breaks away from the sonic texture of previous numbers, unveiling a lighter, carefree side of the album. One of my personal favourites is “Warmth” - an ode to classic hard rock, made pure and simple as theatrical, syncopated guitar lines head-bangs to the ferocity of Heitzmann’s naturally magnetic snarl. While From the Comfort of Your Home works as an entertaining assortment of genres, it shows little promise of a defining sound; in other words, what it’s truly lacking is – here comes the much-dreaded word – originality. The good news is this: the boys are clearly serious about their music and they do this with a good rhythmic balance of light and heavy, fast and slow, executed with a versed hand; and in the midst of it all, they seem to be having a helluva time going at it.

From The Comfort Of Your Home is available on iTunes and
Lloyd’s Garage has already got a list of tour dates in support of their debut album, so check them out if they're playing at a location near you.

"Suitcase"

"Warmth"

i heart shoegaze

2010-02-14T07:25:00.000-08:00

The Besnard Lakes are a Canadian rock band formed by husband and wife duo, Jace Lasek and Olga Goreas. Already two albums in, their upcoming third installation, The Besnard Lakes Are the Roaring Night, continues to crank up the feedback and distortion like it was the 90's, with a punch of classic alternative rock - Dinosaur Jr. style - in tracks like "Like the Ocean, Like the Innocent Part 2" and "Glass Printer". That translates to more songs and reasons to blast your earphones and abuse them ear-drums.

"Albatross"

Their first single off their latest album, "Albatross" is a hurricane of heavy guitar drones and dreamy, precious, Purplespace-esque vocals that captures the very essence of inebriated, semi-consciousness - in other words, shoegaze! Last year, we've had our fair serving of shoegaze, from Asobi Seksu's Hush which stayed rooted to wistful pop indulgences to something veering closer to alcohol-drenched psychedelic rock by the way of Pink Mountaintop's Outside Love; heck, even the Big Pink flirted with the genre in their title track, A Brief History of Love.

Perhaps less well-known, but in no extent qualitatively lesser, is Ghost Puppet's debut album, __Girl, which brims with playful reverb in a Yo la Tengo / Condo Fuck kind of way, borrowing obvious influences from boisterious indie rock and the insouciance of 50's rock-and-roll. More exactingly, an even more lo-fi version of Sonic Youth. Not too bad for a debut, even more so for a band founded by a guy who wanted a female lead who "knew how to be badass" and who's influenced by "by all the terrible bands making music".

"Poster Child"

The Besnard Lakes Are the Roaring Night is due out in March, whilst Ghost Puppet's schwag is up free for streaming at their website, of course. So go, now.

23 albums of the 2000s

2009-12-30T13:04:00.000-08:00

Judging on how music has evolved, 2000 to 2002 seemed to be a phenomenal period for music, with Radiohead's Kid A, Coldplay's A Rush of Blood To The Head, Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and The Stokes' Is This It. But who could forget that right in the middle of the decade, Sleater-Kinney sucker-punched pretty much everyone with one of the best indie rock curveball gem, The Woods. Then came Bright Eyes, who seemed to spend way too much time writing heartbreak mixtapes for the sensitive teenager. Geeky indie pop found new hooks when Ivy League geniuses came together to form Vampire Weekend, and their self titled debut made thick frammed bookish glasses look cool. And finally, towards the end of it all, Animal Collective celebrated the decade with their highly acclaimed pierce de resistance, Merriweather Post Pavilion, which is experimentation at its darn finest.

23. The Killers - Hot Fuss
So Brandon Flowers may be opinionated and often brashly shoots off his mouth more than he should, but when you're this passionate and committed to your craft, it's hard to think otherwise.
Recommeded Tracks: Jenny Was a Friend of Mine, Mr. Brightside, Smile Like You Mean It, Somebody Told Me, All These Things That I've Done

22. Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend
Recommeded Tracks: Mansard Roof, Oxford Comma, A-Punk, Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa, M79

21. Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion
Recommeded Tracks: In the Flowers, My Girls, Also Frightened, Summertime Clothes, Brother Sport

20. Cat Power - You Are Free
Recommeded Tracks: I Don't Blame You, He War, Free, Werewolf, Evolution

19. Ryan Adams - Love Is Hell
Recommeded Tracks: Political Scientist, This House Is Not For Sale, My Blue Manhattan, The Shadowlands, Wonderwall

18. Coldplay - A Rush of Blood To The Head
Recommeded Tracks: Politik, In My Place, God Put A Smile On Your Face, The Scientist, Clocks

17. Bob Dylan - Love and Theft
Recommeded Tracks: Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum, Mississippi, Bye and Bye, High Water (For Charley Patton)

16. Modest Mouse - Good News for People Who Love Bad News
Recommeded Tracks: The World at Large, Float On, Ocean Breathes Salty, Blame It on the Tetons, Black Cadillacs

15. Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning
Because there's still a teenage emo kid in me who fears loneliness and rejections.
Recommeded Tracks: Old Soul Song (For the New World Order), Lua, First Day of My Life, Land Locked Blues, Road to Joy

14. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Fever To Tell
No one does indie rock with such coolness and panache like Karen O and gang.
Recommeded Tracks: Date with the Night, Pin, Maps, Y Control, Modern Romance

13. Sigur Ros - Ágætis Byrjun
Recommeded Tracks: Like all other Sigur Ros albums, this should be savoured in entirety.

12. The White Stripes - Elephant
The staggering 16-song album is a testament to the fact that, after three critcally acclaimed albums, The White Stripes mint shinning perfection to their angsty garage rock sound.
Recommended Tracks: Seven Nation Army, There's No Home for You Here, I Just Don't Know What to Do with Myself, The Hardest Button to Button, Little Acorns

11. Sleater Kinney - The Woods
Volatie, immediate and raw, Sleater-Kinney whipped up one of the decade's best indie rock albums that's ambitious, ferocious and anything but safe. Kids, this is how it's done.
Recommended Tracks: Entertain, The Fox, What's Mine Is Yours, I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone, Modern Girl

10. Broken Social Scene - You Forgot It In People
The band comprises of Canada's finest indie acts including Stars, Leslie Feist, Jason Tait from The Weakerthans and Do Make Say Think's Charles Spearin, just to name a few. Too many cooks spoil the broth, you say? In this case, it is the exact opposite. You Forgot It In People is a more accomplish record than the already impressive debut Feel Good Lost, and is once again a successful patchwork of the band members' individual artistic imprint sewn into a record that's engaging and solid, with effortless transition from one genre to another, and addictive sing-along anthems that question the need to listen to any other pop record when what you have here is pure perfection.

9. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
Stirringly poignant and deeply intimate, Bon Iver spins one of the most profoundly melancholic albums to date with its allegory on love, heartache and letting go. The album title, suggestive of a unsent love letter, wonderfully encapsulates the thematic transient moodiness and its reflective, elegiac beauty like floating leaves on a quiet lake.

8. Sufjan Stevens - Illinois
Perhaps the most ambitious and cohesive concept album to date, Sufjan Stevens' staggering 22-song opus is imaginative romanticism dressed as an astutely constructed, fascinatingly off-kilter and melodiously harmonious slice of theatrical Americana.

7. MGMT - Oracular Spectacular
Neo-psychedelia experimentation done to blistering perfection, matched only by the cautionary, world-weary motif that's ironically sincere, exact and warming.

6. Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism
One of my most beloved and consistently listened albums throughout the years, Transatlanticism exudes, not only one of the coolest album titles yet, but also endearingly contemplative songs that reaches into the deepest recesses of your soul and forces you to face your inner demons and heroes, your fears and strengths, that sense of having and longing and the decisions we make in youth and old age. It is Death Cab's most intimate and mature record that takes a long hard look on relationships and life, feeling like a musical equivalent of The Five People You Meet In Heaven, complete with the immaculately rich and laudably honest prose of Ben Gibbards. Transatlanticism is, without a doubt, Death Cab's magnum opus and truly, a record that to live and die by.

5. Interpol - Turn On The Lights
Before The Killers and Muse, there was Interpol, who made indie rock exciting again with their smashing debut which rocked music tasters from NME and Pitchfork to the core. Turn on the Bright Lights is a blizzard of controlled yet fearless rhythm-driven, incendiary post-punk hooks with an amplitude loud enough to shatter all previous standards. With a pinch of Lou Reed, their coarse sound is often indefatigably thrilling and right on the money with that sense of cunning, uncompromising danger shaped by the knavish, jagged bass lines, booming drum snares and oscillating guitar licks which veer occasionally into post-rock territory and back. Wildly impressive on every level and exhilaratingly intense from start to finish, it's an absolute tour de force like no other.

4. The Strokes - Is This It
The most important garage rock album of the noughties, it was a sensational critical and commercial knockout and there were no other records that could come close to rivalling its gargantuan success. Its sweeping impact first diverted American, then universal listeners from conventional dance pop to hipster rock-n-roll, skinny jeans, grungy guitars and wind-swept hairdos. Then came the copyists like Arctic Monkeys, Franz Ferdinand, The Libertines and something closer to home, Kings of Leon. In short, music of the noughties was revolutionised, thankfully so, by The Strokes.

3. Radiohead - Kid A
It seems that everything Tom Yorke touches turns to gold and here, his band has done it again, rewriting all rules, standards and frontiers to exciting new highs. In the nineties, music was reshaped by Radiohead with The Bends and OK Computer, and their influence is still palpable today, seeping into almost every song churned out by mainstream machines and aspiring Coldplay-bands. With this, Radiohead is once again re-modelling the music for the future, and mark my words: Kid A is the future.

2. Arcade Fire - Funeral
When Pitchfork gave this album a record-high score of 9.6, I told myself: "I have to get my hands on this!". Funeral subsequently ended up on many of the Best of the noughties lists, and there is no question that this record is nothing short of brilliant. Funeral comprises of refined baroque pop phrases hugging onto world-conscious lyrics, fringed with the themes of love and loss, pride and regret, joy and sorrow. More than anything, it is a fierce meditation on mortality and a celebration of life, its rigidity and its fragility, in a wholesomely intimate, preach-free manner; the sort of record that should be passed on to your friends, kids and grandkids and their own kids and for everyone whom you love. So do yourself a favour and pass on this gift today.

1. Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
When I first heard the opening lines of I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, I knew for sure this would be Wilco's best album to date. And I am right, after a couple hundred listens to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. In 2001, when this album was submitted to Reprise Records, the directors spit it back at the band like some carcinogenic poison, and this subsequently led to the band's departure from the company. They then went on to stream the entire album online before signing up with yet another Warner Music Group label, Nonesuch, which means that the album was priced for twice. I'd say that the money is still well spent.

Tweedy experiments with a wall of sound comprising of vehement fuzzwork, blustering synth ripples, burning reverb, racing drum steps and even bicycle bell rings. It is, in short, a beautiful storm of visionary sonic wizardry, something that rivals Kid A in idiosyncratic measure and Sgt. Pepper's intrepid complexity. But it is the symbolic relevance to events that proceed its tumultuous release which further accentuates its ingenious craft. From the pictorial resemblance of the cover art to the twin towers, to the inherent focus on the post 9/11 state of affairs in the lines like "Tall buildings shake / Voices escape singing sad sad songs" in "Jesus, Etc" and "I would like to salute the ashes of American flags" in "Ashes of American Flag".

While Tweedy may not have intended to draw parallel to these events, he has sagaciously painted the perfect portrait of the 2000s, plagued by the aftermath of more suicide bombings and the ceaseless fight against terrorism, which saw more "War on War", and that constant fear and paranoia intensified by excessive media coverage and false alarms. The threading sonic dissonace befittingly outlines the confused, sensitised state that we live in, made especially so by the recent bomb scares in the Detroit airport at the close of the decade, and the overall melodic architecture is still resoundingly fresh and sharp in today's context. Call it luck or fate, there can be no better timing for its controversial release or its unexplained reality-savvy foresight and there is not a better record record out there that, on every level, concludes this decade as chillingly perturbing as Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

23 in a decade: Part II (14-1)

2009-12-30T12:26:00.000-08:00

14. Imogen Heap - Hide and Seek
(from Speak For Yourself)

The O.C pimped this big time back in 2003 and brought much publicity to the then little-known Imogen Heap. Many other TV series followed and "Hide & Seek" was promptly catapulted to gold certification, and its success extends well beyond to the 2009's Jason DeRulo's cover. The song throbs with a bleeding relevance to a modernistic society crumbled by technology, ambition and hypocrisy, creating islands of individualistic people blinded by their own self-centred desires. In a tumultuous decade marked by heightened paranoia and redundant discords, the words "Oily marks appear on the walls / Where pleasure moments hung before the takeover / The sweeping insensitivity of this still life," bears a chilling, blistering frostbite of a message.

13. Lewis and Clarke - Before It Breaks You
(from Blasts Of Holy Birth)

Swooning and elegant, the song dives, swims and soars with each pick and strum of its string-ladened instrumentation to achieve a swirling, swelling tempest of delicate avant chamber folk melodies that's as lush and precious as Lou Rogai's plaintive vocals.

12. Frightened Rabbit - My Backwards Walk
(from The Midnight Organ Fight)

Without this song, you wouldn't be reading this blog in the first place. For anyone who had or are still trying to erase the shadow of a loved one whose heart is any where but yours, this is the song for you. No other breakup song that I've heard in the past ten years contains words as just and evocative as lines like "I'm working on my faults and cracks / Filling in the blanks and gaps / And when I write them out they don't make sense / I need you to pencil in the rest". My favourite line of the song? Well, it's pretty obvious when you look up the title of this blog and that remains as one of the coolest lines ever penned.

11. Stars - Your Ex-Lover Is Dead
(from Set Yourself On Fire)

"When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire". So begins Star's most popularised song, which plunges into new depths of pensive semi-consciousness thanks to the weeping violin and wistful horns, and with the final realisation of acceptance, departure and reprieve.

10. Animal Collective - My Girls
(from Merriweather Post Pavilion)

Enough praise have been lavished on this song already, so I won't beat on the same drum again for this song deserves to be on any best of list; here's no exception.

9. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Mercy
(from Howl Sessions EP)

The first verse is sufficient to warrant feelings of haplessness, regret and remorse. "Time stands too still / Left you there for the kill / But this hope that sorrow bleeds / Leaves a man with nothing". I'm thinking Paul Westernberg and John Lennon. Big references. Little-known song. Grievously understated. Oh, and utterly timeless.

8. John Mayer - Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
(from Continuum)

(the amazing version from Where the Light Is)
By far the best song in John Mayer's repertoire, the song mixes that familiar desire to salvage a broken relationship with Mayer's moody, whisky-breathed crooning and a stellar centerpiece guitar solo that's just pretty much the most incredible thing he has to offer live, SDIABR is, for me, the gold standard in blues/adult alternative. Personal playcount check: 251 and counting.

7. MGMT - Time to Pretend
(from Oracular Spectacular)

No other song comes close in capturing the zeitgeist of our image-conscious, media-ravaged culture like "Time to Pretend", where everything - from the pursuit of fame, fortune and status - are nothing but arid, cliched cycles. The swirling synth beats brilliantly compliments the discombobulated mess that we are in, and the second verse reminds us that, in our road to egocentrism, we often forget about the small but important things that truly matter. If there's a song that's befitting of the word 'flawless' in the 2000s, "Time to Pretend" would be it.

6. Sigur Ros - Glosoli
(from Takk)

Remember when you were younger and those dreams of flight, those fleeting moments of wonder and serenity where all worries, expectations and troubles are casted away just for that moment in time, and you feel, with every fibre of your being, thankful for the very fact that you're simply alive. It's so very rare that a song like this comes along, having the ability to make you beam with pride and gratitude for music by capturing all that shimmering beauty and by the end of it you'll feel nothing but mighty, ephemeral bliss.

5. The Gaslight Anthem - The '59 Sound
(from The '59 Sound)

If you know me or have been reading my blog, you should know how I feel about this song. The Gaslight Anthem was, for me, the best new thing back in 2008, who brought forth punk with sensibility, and the title track is the quintessence of the band's sound. Some may write off this song as schmaltzy, but naysayers cannot deny the craft of the prose; from the reflective opening lines of "And I wonder which song they're going to play when we go / I hope it's something quiet mannered, peaceful, and slow.", to the tragic "Young boys and girls ain't supposed to die on a Saturday night", and for all of us who love music well enough - "Did you hear your favourite song one last time?". The saddest song of the 2000s? Hell yeah.

4. Radiohead - Idioteque
(from Kid A)

No matter what your interpretation of the song is, be it technological disintegration, nuclear war or climatical catastrophe, "Idioteque", one that's as strange as it is beguiling, is the best number on Kid A. It signals Radiohead's tectonic shift to electronic beats - a move that was slow for others to pick up, which further cements the band's status as the new generation Beatles who are just way, way ahead of their time. And to borrow a line from the song, yeap, "This is really happening".

3. Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism
(from Transatlanticism)

I, for one, adore songs that tell a story. I'm also big on swelling, ethereal melodies that collide into one's soul with a stupendous, uplifting felicity. In Death Cab's 7 minute opus, I was reminded of the very fundamental core of music - to emote you beyond words and in brief, tearful seconds where nothing but the music mattered and everything, everything, is worth living for.

(Thanks to I Am Fuel / You Are Friends for keeping us in the know.)

2. Arcade Fire - Wake up
(from Funeral)

An epic song with an epic, cautionary message of changing things before it's too late. Its swooping stadium-esque musicscape is a breathtakingly knockout and its context, harmoniously everlasting.

1. The Killers - All These Things That I've Done

Originally released in 2004 from their stunning breakthrough debut, Hot Fuss, the song was slow to gain popularity, but picked up exponentially after being featured in the Nike commercial for the 2008 Summer Olympics. It has since been used for a flurry of media advertisements like the US Open and on film which include The Matador as well as Southland Tales.

There have been many outstanding songs in the 2000s, but none of them is as sky-filling an anthem as this. When I think of the best song of the decade, I'm thinking of something that move people and could possibly, in an impossibly idealistic sense, change the world. (You can start laughing now.)

Brandon Flowers opens up the song with that stadium-filling voice of his in the form of "When there's nowhere else to run / Is there room for one more son?", the thunderstorm guitar cranks up, the chorus kicks in along with the rolling drums and clashing cymbals, the tempo picks up and the the song is on fire once you reach the line, "I need direction to perfection, no no no no". The next verse ties in the line "These changes ain't changing me / The cold-hearted boy I used to be", which pretty much tops everything you've heard for the past minute. The second chorus is now over. Your pulse is racing, your mouth is dry and you are banging your head to the rhythm and before you know it you're yelling, at the top of your lungs, "I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier".

That thrill, that joy, that sense of belonging - that's what music does to you. More importantly, it brings people together, where for just one song all differences are forgotten and everyone is living that moment where the same verse is sung on every one's tongue and that homogenous feeling of unity is simply indescribable.

"All These Things That I've Done" is technically the perfect rock song of the 2000s, it's got that epic, earth-shattering sweep of a sound, that galvanising, fist-pumping lyrics and that crowd-pleasing, killer vocals of Flowers. Its life-affirming, soul-rejuvenating 4 minutes - every single second of it - is the exact translation of everything I ever dreamed of in a song in the 21 century; a song that unifies people who love music as fervently as life itself and for me, there's only one word that can be used to describe this euphoric, rousing feeling: transcendent.

23 songs in a decade: Part I (23-15)

2009-12-30T12:25:00.000-08:00

As 2009 closes in on a new decade, it would be fitting to put forth an assortment of what I consider to be the best songs and albums of the past year, as well as, the decade. First and foremost, I would like to caution that this list may induce mild to moderate disgust, shock or invectives; in other words, this is a largely skewed list dearth of any intention to appease the general public, be it the casual music avid or the judgemental music snob, my choices are based on how the songs speak to me and me only. You should also note that the list will not contain anything by Kelly Clarkson, Miley Cyrus or Nickelback; in other words, this is a largely indie/alternative/experimental music list. Alright, now then we've got those two assertions out of the way and because my favourite number is 23, let's dive straight into the songs that make up the defining 10 years of my life.

23. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Maps / Y Control
(from Fever To Tell)

(the now defunct Harlem Shakes' cover)
Because I love Karen O so, I can't decide which persona I preferred more - a confused, possessive side in spades of "Wait / They don't love you like I love you" or a bitter, cold one in the form of "I wish I could buy back the woman you stole".

22. Wilco - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
(from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot)

Jeff Tweedy proves once again, how much of a lyricist he is with lines like "I am an American aquarium drinker / I assassin down the avenue / I'm hiding out in the big city blinkin' / What was I thinkin' when I let go of you". Indeed he break hearts as well as conventional indie pop standards.

21. Train - Drops of Jupiter
(from Drops of Jupiter)

Just because it's been sung on American Idol doesn't mean it's a bad song. Train's breakthrough hit won 2 Grammy awards and remained on the Billboard Top 100 for over a year. Although I'm not a huge fan of Billboard songs, the song strikes a fundamental chord with me and well, practically everyone. A journey of self-discovery and appreciation of people in one's life are all part of growing up, something everyone - regardless of age - go through and are still going through.

20. Modest Mouse - Float On
(from Good News for People Who Loves Bad Love Bad News)

It sticks to you and floats in your head for the whole of next week and you simply can't help yourself from humming the melody to yourself while strolling along the sidewalk before everyone around you breaks into a mad sing-along of "All right, I'm ready, We'll all float on, all right!". Okay, maybe that will only take place in a world where everyone loves Modest Mouse, but hey we can all dream right?

19. The White Stripes - Seven Nation Army
(from Elephants)

Because no matter how hard you try, you can never get the killer bass line and the pulsating drum rhythm out of your freaking head. Call it masochistic torture that's good for you.

18. Gnarls Barkley - Crazy
(from St. Elsewhere)

The only song in this list that isn't indie/alternative/experimental, "Crazy" stands out from the mainstream buffet with a stunning plethora of accolades and covers under its belt, of those including a placing on Pitchfork's best of list and also Best Song of the 2000s by Rolling Stone magazine. And it's easy to see why. The song finds a centre in the tangled crossroads of music tasters, from the indie rocker to industrial stoner; it's clever, infectious beats, urban hip-hop funk and a reality-conscious prose are unlike anything we have ever heard before, and till this day the song still remains as a force to be reckoned with.

17. Feist - Honey Honey
(from The Reminder)

Nothing like a shot of arcane Feist. Deliciously dark and brilliantly twisted, the recoiling melodies waltzes with a strolling guitar line and foxy harp footwork, in addition to a tempo that's insidious and perturbing while remaining artfully restrained. At the lyrical core, the enigmatic gravity and Feist's naturally compelling vocals run parallel with the arching, somber beauty of the song.

16. Broken Social Scene - Stars and Sons
(from You Forget It In People)

Because they're one of Canada's most exciting bands to date and because I can't help myself from secretly dancing in my head to this song.

15. Yellow - Coldplay
(from Parachutes)
In the summer of 2000, a little known British band called Coldplay released their sophomore single with no idea that this was their career-changing song. Fast forward nine years later, they've amassed the throne to Brit-rock supremacy and have won approximately 43 awards in total with a slew of endless tours. What had been a pivotal moment for Coldplay translated into a life-changing turn for me. I was just 12 years old when I first heard the opening lines, "Look at the stars / Look how they shine for you / At everything that you do", and I was thinking to myself, why isn't the radio playing more songs of this kind? My heart raced every time the familiar guitar riff comes up, and I was soaking in every verse and every melody, and I actually felt like my life pretty much began in that moment.

Thanks to this song, I became especially picky in music and I refused listen to half-baked 'thrash' on the radio, choosing to stick to my trusty Ipod instead. Also thanks to this song that I was labelled as a self-aware music snob by some, or simply that weirdo with weirder music taste who's always seen walking around with earphones. But in return, my perspective on things evolved. I was more interested in the craftsmanship of a song rather than how loud the song registers in amplitude; I paid more attention to the rhymes, the metaphors and the story; I found music much more meaningful than previously thought and I was even more enthralled by the possibilities of discovering and understanding more of what it has to offer.

Along the way, priorities occasionally shift and I sometimes neglect music in the back burner, but whenever "Yellow" comes on, I am reminded, once again, of the power of music and that a life without it is tragically meaningless. I heard from a song that the heart will always lead you back, and I believe so, that along the course of life, distractions come and go but one will always come back full circle to where one should rightfully be. And "Yellow" is that guiding light for me, more than I would admit it, and in more ways than one, I won't be who I am today without this song.

(Here's homegrown singer/songwriter Tanya Chua's acoustic cover of Yellow)

(to be continued)

And I'll mirror images back at you

2009-12-21T06:04:00.000-08:00

By now, you should have read about all the raving reviews for The xx’s debut album, XX. So exactly, how good is XX? Let me go out on a limb and proclaim that this is the only album this year that defines - with every beat, verse and melody - the word sublime; in short, there’s no album quite like this. XX is simply spellbinding; its somewhat baneful and wholly compelling beat-driven sonic architecture draws you in like a psychedelic-aphrodisiacal drug – slow in the killing, fatal in the coup de grace. Hushed vocals, restraint yet urgent, sets the ghostly atmosphere of the album, while the bleeding guitar line - sounding at times like a fleeting reverie and others like a livid madness - feels like oxygenated blood coursing through the veiny network of engineered rhythmic patterns that throbs with an assured, sexy cool.

“VCR” opens up the album with an understated intimacy, and establishes a hipster-longue vibe for the rest of the songs to build on. “Crystallised” meanders to a darker place, with even more enigmatic prose suggestive of either a turbulent relationship or their performance in bed, characterised by progression differences or both. The icy baritone of Romy Madley Croft and Oliver Sim captures the haunting, unsettling spirit of the song and is fully adorned by the trendy, contagious dance beats that sound like those booming from the poshiest clubs in Paris.

The only weakness in XX lies in the middle section, with tracks that sound akin to each other, but is quickly salvaged by “Fantasy” and “Shelter”. “Fantasy” stretches out in cold, zombie-like phrasings thanks to Romy Croft, like a foreign cry in continuum space filled with echoes of ghostly solitude and subdued apprehension. “Shelter” strikes an emotional chord with the heart, with Oliver Sim’s quavering voice on the verge of breaking; it’s twisted yet warming and distant yet affectionate all at once – something like a theatrically-stripped down Bat for Lashes.

“Night Time” is a sleepwalker of a song, with a suppressed compelling force of post-rock riffs coalesced with dream-like disco beats that’s just magnetic to withhold. The album comes to a resolution with the right note from “I don't have to leave anymore / What I have is right here” in “Stars”, the closer for a album filled with savage copulation, hapless possession and finally, the contentment in the fulfilment of a journey.

Like MGMT’s Oracular Spectacular last year, XX here is yet another sensational, groundbreaking revelation. Tantalisingly sinister, relentlessly intriguing and intensely gratifying, The xx’s pronounced sense of confidence and craftsmanship is evident in a seamless, effortless delivery of an immaculately programmed sound that makes experience seem silly. And to know that this is only their first album is a thought no less frightening than how profoundly nuanced the album is.

"Crystalised"

the hardest love has the coldest end

2009-12-17T02:47:00.000-08:00

Whew, it's been a few hectic weeks; after a string of exams, I was preoccupied with weddings and I've just touched down from a week long vacation from Brisbane, hence I'm blog-active once again. During my aussie getaway, I was heavily hooked on Owen's New Leaves as well as Altas Sound's Logos, but the one record that I perpetually returned to was The Big Pink's stellar debut, A Brief History of Love, which I will devote the rest of this entry to and show my love for.

A Brief History of Love is, in short, a brief history of Brit pop music, drawing central reference from The Verves, with occasional tinges of Placebo and the unshakable wharfs of Oasis. The album achieves a delicate balance of fuzz petal, acoustic waves and drum box wizardry, and this wall of sonic lattice-work is artfully pegged together by the meticulously sharp prose with a frighteningly realised vivacity. Thematically, there’s a whole lot of angst, bitterness and cynicism; harbouring no rose-tinted-glass idealism in their retrospection of love.

The bracing shoegaze quality of the album is beautifully crystallised in the title song, "A Brief History of Love", with that familiar swagger of inebriated light-headedness and that bitter, alcoholic taste of a breakup on your tongue. The prose is morosely tragic - the death of a communion, of shared happiness, of promise and everything that you leave behind, of the tussle between logic and desire to have another go at something that’s broken - that it’s almost too painful to hear lines like “Have I left you too long waiting for the feeling to come?” and “It's up to you to mend my heart, please don't let go”.

“Velvet” then turns to impartial resentment of a disintegrated relationship, while “Tonight” spins like a R&B street groove that sidesteps to a roving, sensual soul funk and “Count Backwards from Ten” would have been a single from The Verve during their peak of their career.

One of the most rewarding highlights of A Bried History of Love comes in the towering silhouette of Dominos, and as the name suggests, it is a massive, stadium-swelling anthem about committal antipathy and how infatuation would eventually fall like dominoes. It’s more like a perpetual cyclic addiction, driven by the mantra –corruptibly cynical yet brutally honest - “The hardest love has the coldest end”. Yes, it certainly isn’t cherry stuff, but it hits the buried, raw nerve of reality excruciatingly hard and resoundingly so, and hence cementing it as one of my favourite lines I’ve heard this year.

The Big Pink manage to make everything old new with that touch of calculated yet free reined deftness and precision in its nu-rave psychedelic space rock that made Richard Ashcroft and Co. one of the leading English rock bands of the 90’s. Although The Big Pink’s debut album may not come close to that kind of commercial success, it is nevertheless, nothing short of a jolting, praise-worthy revelation that should easily warrant itself on many of the year’s best lists.

"Dominos"

In "Dominos", there's a line that goes "Ending at never haunting melody" and so, just for the kick of it, take a listen to their sterling cover of Beyonce's "Sweet Dreams".

it's one fine mess that you've got yourself in

2009-12-02T07:01:00.000-08:00

Gooding's 'widescreen rock' has been drawing quite a bit of attention, and it's no surprise, given its U2-esque tune that booms louder than a stadium amplifier. Employing heavily, if not almost entirely, on epic pop rock hooks akin to radio-friendly, straight-to-screen mass appeal that runs like butter on the skillet of the mainstream catalogue.

The opener, "Make the Devil Cry", off his fourth album, The Return, sets a crystal clear declaration of its sonic direction. It is brash and loud in every way – both musically and lyrically - bearing bold statements in the likes of "We're gonna play so good to make the devil cry"; there's nothing bold, however, to speak of the song's sonic skeleton. Choosing to stick to conventional fast-and-loose pop rock arrangement, Goodling dices with simplistic in-your-face offense more than anything else. That being said, it's not exactly an utterly bad song. Tell-tale signs of seasoned competency are imprinted throughout the three minutes which assuredly and positively sing. In essence, the song reminded me of Ryan Adam's "Magick" with a punch of Rock-N-Roll Soldiers' "Funny Little Feeling". But the payoff here is surprisingly watered-down - something riotous, crowd-pleasing, but not too abrasive or challenging, much less a bushwack, to leave any scars, bruises or nosebleeds. It’s actually a really tame affair.

“Go Kid Go” is a continuation of what has been established, but this time with pounding synth beats and showy guitar riffs, nevertheless, it once again blunts at originality. The song, however, teases us with an inkling of possibility; there were moments which hint at the prospect of breaking away from the largely one-note song list, but sadly they never came and melody reels back to formulaic stagnancy. Goodling clearly knows his strengths and he wisely capitalises on them. “I’m Not Listening” then probes into the roots of The Veils’ style of familiar alt rock and “Please” is your regular Fray's soft rock ballad where Gooding’s croony, melodious baritone sits comfortably between Matthew Ryans and, well, Issac Slate of The Fray.

Whilst the craftsmanship is glaringly evident, this album may, inadvertently, come off as somewhat ‘easy’ and unimaginative for the demanding listener. The Return is high on drama, and low on subtlety, but that was never Goodling’s intention, who prefers to manoeuvre within the boundaries of the mainstream envelope - reiterating rather than redefining the status quo of pop standards; this can be quite frustrating, especially when you’re left there wishing you were listening to a better record. Neat little packaged commercial pop generally does no harm when it’s done well, but you know there’s a problem when you can’t tell the songs apart after track number three, or that so many band references can be inferred from the songs. Either that or I’m a really picky listener - I suspect it's both.

"Go Kid Go"

Interview with Richard from Keane: Synth and Wacky Hair

2009-08-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

With an ever-expanding soundscape that veers from piano pop to synth pop and back, Keane is a band that needs no introduction. Youth.SG caught up with drummer Richard Hughes over email on his favourite records, the songs that define them, being called 'that band that sounds like Coldplay' and a look back on their upward spiraling career thus far.

Youth.SG: We really like the direction that you guys are heading in Perfect Symmetry. What is the inspiration behind the new synth-driven sound?
Richard: Thanks. We produced it ourselves, and a lot of that was done on instinct. I guess it comes from the music we were first into as kids of the 80s... bands like the Pet Shop Boys and Depeche Mode.

What do you think of the resurgence of 80's synth pop in today's music?
I like a lot of the music around where there is a good song underneath it all, but just using a synth and having wacky hair isn’t enough — like every “movement” there will be some who last, and some who fall by the wayside. It’ll be interesting to see what a lot of bands do next.

How do you guys see yourselves in the piano rock genre, now that other bands such as The Fray and Morning Runner have begun to emerge?
I don’t think we see ourselves in any genre — in fact, I never think about what we do or where we fit in. we just do our thing, and that’s it.

Which bands would you be keen to collaborate or tour with?
We just did some work with a guy called K’naan that we are hoping to release later this year. That was a fantastic experience. He’s hugely talented, but definitely has a melodic, song-based approach to music. I think the songs we recorded are really exciting and I can’t wait for people to hear them.

Keane's first two singles ever, 'Call Me What You Like' and 'Wolf at the Door', have attained cult status amongst fans. Do they still hold a special place in your hearts?
They document a time of enormous frustration and our inability to break through to release music on a label. Looking back at that time, we were just like a million (other) bands — trying to get through our day jobs to be able to play music at night. Also, they were at a time before our guitarist left, so it feels like a long time ago. I think I still have a few copies in a box somewhere, along with setlists from early gigs and all that — makes me think I should have a look through that stuff!

Keane has been interminably compared to Coldplay. Which song (or songs), do you think clearly defines the Keane identity and why?
'Untitled 1', 'Atlantic', 'Spiraling', 'You Haven’t Told Me Anything'... this is an axis of songs from each of our records that is a side of Keane that seems to get forgotten in the rush to make sweeping generalisations about us! Each of those songs is pretty experimental and pretty unique — I think it shows that we’ve always been doing our own thing.

Now that you guys are back touring, do you have any interesting tour stories to share?
Seeing the world… in the last 10 days I’ve been from London to Beirut, Dubai, Dublin, Scotland, Ibiza, Vigo (Spain)... It’s insane. Tour stories? I never believe tour stories — we have a good time — that’s all you need to know.

What has been Keane's career highlight or turning point in your musical journey thus far?
Finally getting to release a song on Fierce Panda Records was the turning point, along with getting it played by a DJ in the UK called Steve Lamacq.

If you guys were marooned on a deserted island, which five records would you pick and why?
Achtung Baby, U2
Graceland, Paul Simon
Plans, Death Cab For Cutie
Rant in E-minor, Bill Hicks
Bryter Layter, Nick Drake

(Me: Another Death Cab fan! Yay!)

Many bands tend to skew their music to mainstream tastes after signing up with a major record label. Do you think that has affected the band's musicianship? What's your take on mass appeal and sonic artistry?
Blimey. We made our first record exactly as we’d been playing it for the year of touring pubs and clubs before we signed a deal. Our second one was different, when our record label would have probably preferred it to be the same… we just do what we do, and the label release the album, and that’s pretty much it. I think there are elements of the music press in the UK — particularly the NME — that start to dislike bands when they get successful. That happened to us, but that’s just the way it is. I have nothing against good pop music, in fact I love it. Records like The Ting Tings' album are genius, and pop at its best.

Finally, what kinda direction, musically speaking, do you see yourselves venturing into after Perfect Symmetry?
We have no idea, but that’s the fun part, right?

- NT

***

My article was first featured @ Youth.SG and if you don't know it already, I write for them, occasionally.

all things must pass away

2009-08-07T02:08:00.000-07:00

If you haven't already heard, Jim James of The Morning Jacket, under the moniker of Yim Yames, released his tribute to George Harrison last month in the form of six precious covers tucked under the title Tribute to.. Recorded in 2001 proceeding Harrison's untimely passing, the modestly produced album is Jim James's first project outside My Morning Jacket. Portions of the proceeds will go to Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary.

Yo la Tengo have proven to us how cover albums can be fun and James's endearing interpretation here sheds a different light on a hugely underrated Beatle, whose ingenious talent lie hidden under an unassuming demeanour, remaining relatively unnoticed next to the likes of his fellow band mates, McCartney and Lennon.

Perhaps two of the most compelling reasons that set this apart from just another cover album are James’s distinct spectrally haunting vocals and his dismantling of the songs’ sonic embellishments. Although some of the choices are puzzling, the beauty in Harrison’s song-craft is infallible, like a omnipresent entity that traverse the album from start to finish. Gone is the upbeat momentum in “Behind That Locked Door” and “My Sweet Lord”, which in Tribute To.. is exchanged for a more sensitive, cogitating whisper of a lullaby. "All Things Must Pass" is the kind of song that you wish someone would sing to you. Essentially, James stripped the song to bare fragility, implicitly exposing a latent, evocative intimacy previously unrealised. There could not be a better song to wrap up this lovely album with such lingering melancholy and pensive efficacy.

Tribute To.. is a neat little treat that will most likely strike a teary-eyed reminiscence among Harrison fans, but even non-loyalists will find it hard not to hold this tribute with a dignified, affectionate deference.

"All Things Must Pass"

two lonely people taking flight

2009-08-03T04:29:00.000-07:00

I'm back from a long, gruelling week of exams. During the course of endless myopic-afflicting texts and 2am caffeine binges, the one song that accompanied my phases of stressful solitude - and no, it's not Wilco's How to Fight Loneliness - is "Bones" by Foam Castles. First of all, I would like to thank Heartache With Hard Work for promoting this incredible band; a criminally underrated band with a naturalistic penchant for affectionate lyricism and whose lo-fi tunes worm in and out of rooted pop sensibility. Exactly what I needed.

Bearing all the edges of an indie gem, "Bones" is interlaced with a male/female vocal structure, anchored with minimal instrumentation and throbs with a distinctive Smiths reverence. The result is nothing but magical. The song reminded me of a serendipitous meeting of two people, lost in forlorn desolation and found in the most unlikely of circumstances, and just for that one night, nothing else mattered. Being a sucker for paradoxical nuances, the song naturally strikes a chord with me: the gashing vocals of Tyler Jackson & Ritu Moondra and the stark vulnerability of the prose is akin to grainy salt to an open wound while the plaintive buoyancy of the arrangement is to the aching, melodic undertow as curative comfort is to naked pain. It's at the death of the day when two hearts beat to life, and it's wistful piano tunes singing to nostalgic guitar strums - it's as simple as that; but it's in times like these when so many bands try their darn hardest to reach for cyclopean experimentations that we could all use a song this raw, unpretentious and sincere. So sit back, close your eyes and take flight.

"Bones"

it's just a heart attack

2009-07-05T07:46:00.001-07:00

The spotlight today will be focused on Californian indie band, The Dodos, whose 2008 album Visiter got me spinning, skipping and pulsating in a sensory overload. Their song "Fools", off The Visiter was recently used in a Miller Chill advertisement and if you're staring at the album title wondering if the band members have trouble spelling, well, the good news is they don't. It was inspired by a drawing given to them when they were playing to kids and according to Metric Long, the kids were dancing and clapping to the music. Very cool kids I must say!

The Visiter is not just good, it's mad good. The begging-for-more kinda mad good. Visiter is a no-holds-barred psych folk album that attacks you from every direction and on every scale - the melodies, like a forray of arrows, advances with such relentless fury and blitz that you'd have to be terminally brain dead to not be stimulated by its cerebral web of experimemtal folk and baroque pop, spun to a glistening finish. The time will come to prove that Visiter is no fluke, and that time will be 15th of September. The album title? Time to Die. I assume that this is directed towards their fellow contemporaries?

And if things aren't indicative enough, take a listen to "Small Deaths", the first song off Time to Die. It sets the stage for yet another colossally gratifying album with its alt-rock arpeggios tied in by warping freak folk melodies. The song crackles midway via distortion pedals and then stops before all the intrumentations florish once again, bringing the song to a glorious finish. And that is just the first song.

Grizzly Bear and Dirty Projectors might wanna watch out for these guys.

"Small Deaths"

did you hear your favourite song one last time?

2009-07-03T07:13:00.000-07:00

Recently The Boss (Bruce Springsteen) joined Jersey punk rockers The Gaslight Anthem on the inaugural Glastonbury Festival for "The 59' Sound". Perfection, I reckon. Needless to say, I was eagerly waiting for THE most heartwrenching line ever to be written in the history of music (in my opinion anyways) to be sung by Brian Fallon: "Young boys, young girls / Ain't supposed to die on a Saturday night"

Seriously, who wouldn't??

If the video don't leave you feeling sorry for yourself already, there's something innately wrong with you. (unless you were one of those lucky people in the crowd of course.)

the 59 sound - bruce springsteen & gaslight anthem( glasto )
by runawaydream

Sigh.. What I would give to just be there!

we can still afford to not make sense at all

2009-06-26T19:03:00.000-07:00

The London-based sextet, Fanfarlo, is burning up the blogosphere with their debut album, Reservoir ever since its February release and even more so when it's recently priced at just one buckeroo for a limited period till July the 4th. At the helm of production is Peter Katis, better known for his work with The National and Interpol, who brought the album of crashing melodies and world-decrying proses to a scintillating fruition. Reservoir also includes two formerly released tracks ("Harold T. Wilkins" and "Fire Escape") with a whimsical album art that was suggested by their friend, Jón Þór Birgisson of Sigur Ros.

"Fire Escape" rolls with a jaunty, Saturday afternoon momentum, with bellowing trumpets, swelling accelerandos and eventually fading out with a joyous carousel whistle. The choral backups and augmenting violin work in "The Walls Are Coming Down" accentuates Fanfarlo's clamour pop reverence and beatific abundance. "Harold T Wilkins" sings of nagging self-doubts and latent social isolation, while "Luna" thumps with a glorious, bracing rhythm redolent of Sigur Ros' stirring beauty. All 11 tracks are laddered with the grandiosity of Arcade Fire - something which Fanfarlo has been interminably and affectionately referenced to - and the resplendent wonder of AC Newman.

Reservoir lunges with an unabashed insouciance into its own chamber pop indulgences and clashes upon you with a elated zest like that feeling you get in the first milliseconds after rousing when you realise that the day is full of possibilities and nothing is insurmountable.

For Monday mornings in need of optimism and for June hearts continuing to beat, Reservoir is the album for you.

Fire Escape

The Walls Are Coming Down

The Repeat List III: Summer Mix

2009-06-18T06:19:00.000-07:00

5 songs about break-ups, sex, pines, dusks and Sour Patch (okay, maybe it's just my current spontaneous craving acting up) all in a sun-dappled June.

1. Eels - Prizefighter
(from Hombre Lobo)

Seriously, no one with the right music sense can resist tripping that light fantastic toe to the seductive, blues-rock snare in Prizefighter that essentially and befittingly, sings about the temptations of - what else - hormonal snares.

2. The Paper Cranes - Telephone
(from Telephone - Single)

Still riding on that bubblegum bounce that The Paper Cranes are best known for, Telephone is a gleeful little number with a harmonica tune that hops, skips and dives throughout the songs like it's on a Sour Patch overdose. If this is an indication of things to come - their upcoming album, Chivaly's Dead, out on 28th July - then we might be in for a chipper pop overdose. And trust me, that's always healthy.

3. Frightened Rabbit - Swim Until You Can't See Land
(from Off the Beaten Tracks)

Ahh.. that familiar, wounded voice. Always striking a chord with that melancholic side of ours, Frightened Rabbit's latest heartache is part of an Edinburgh music project, entitled Off the Beaten Tracks.
Scott Hutchison's ever-stirring vocals once again reminds you of the scars and lines on your face, the very reason why they are there and the completeness of being a human.

4. Regina Spektor - The Calculation
(from Far)

The first track in Regina Spektor's fifth album, Far (due on 23th June), The Calculation is another snappy sing-along number that's belied by the underlying lyrics - it's about calculated love and the glaring kinks in the coerced equation. It proves that sometimes, the missing variable is chemistry.

5. Yo la Tengo - Periodically Double or Triple
(from Popular Songs)

The grooviest, funkiest Yo la Tengo song ever to be released - the dallying organ riff catwalks to the sound of Kaplan's equally arousing croons, and what we have here is a beat so hot and so smooth that's reminiscent of Better Than Ezra's Juicy. Somewhere along 2:20, the organ screams to an orgasmic high and if that can be translate into words, it would spell s-e-x-y in caps lock, bold and italics.

don't confront me with my failures

2009-06-11T05:34:00.000-07:00

Having leaked two months prior to its release date, Bitte Orca has enjoyed early critical success with eminent praises from popular music tasters like Stereogum and Pitchfork and it's hard not to see why, really. Bitte Orca is an album that not only celebrates musical possibilities but it's also bent on making an intrepid, aural statement, which screams radically close to an indie-rock miracle.

What makes Bitte Orca work so well is that beneath the sheaths of multitudinous instrumentation and artful prose, lies a core of mellifluous melodies that traverse the album from start to finish. Because they're so fetching and beatific, you'll catch yourself humming to them in a subconscious abandon. Be it waiting for the train at the subway station or leisurely strolling down the street, the tunes have way of looping themselves around your brain and staying hermetically sealed inside your head. But Dirty Projectors does more than just that; they have, along with Grizzly Bear, surfaced Brooklyn's experimental denomination to mass pop likeability without compromising their spirit of art-rock innovation and eclectic harmonic distinction.

Now, let's discuss the songs. "Cannibal Resource" first sucks you into its whirlpool of dissolving falsettoes, snappy guitar licks and sun-lit lyrics: "Look around at everyone / Everyone looks alive and waiting / The wind is up, the stars out / The sun is calm, the light is fading". It sure seems like the perfect summer surf song. Following up on the seasonal zest, "Temecula Sunrise" is an ode to hot, greasy midsummer nights and nooky sojourns. Dirty Projector's sound further spans the gamut from a strange but intriguing fusion of fluttering synth pop with sensual R&B grooves (no kidding!) to an exquisite serenade of reposing vocals buttressed by a bed of acoustic string play in "Two Doves". Quite frankly, it reminds you of long walks at the beach and watching the ocean melt away into the sky.

Just when we think that things can't get any better, Dirty Projectors proves us wrong once again. It is here in "Useful Chamber" that the album's strength gloriously exemplifies itself. The punch-drunk synth beats side step with choral spoors of "uhhh"s and "ahhh"s before the song ruptures to a flush of fiery, rumpus chants in the form of "Bitte Orca, Orca Bitte!"; this is the sound of art-pop drunk in an inebriated high. And quite ironically, it's this abrupt upheaval that brings everything - from Longstreth's peppy vocals to the twisting melodic lines - to a splendid equilibrium.

Like every stellar album this year, there's the routine tribute to the tribal soul. A soukous-guitar riff skims on the repetitious yelps in "Remade Horizon" and Longstreth has never sounded this eager - something which comes off dangerously close to desperation, and that brings me to my single criticism of Bitte Orca. While the song expands the parameters of the album, Bitte Orca is too good, too inventive to merely satisfy the pedestrian checklist of the general audience and critics alike; but the fault here is too marginal to defile the rest of the album and it still stands a testament to the indomitable position the quintet holds as the new frontrunners of the Brooklyn indie scene.

With Bitte Orca, Dirty Projectors have found the perfect balance between experimentation and connection, and they do so with an immaculate exactness that's so awe-inspiring, it's enough to breed a whole new fanbase and incur bitter jealousy from their contemporaries. It is way up there as one the year's very best, among the ranks of Merriweather Post Pavilion and Veckatimest, and it is here that their zealous potential erupts in a dazzling union of symmetry, art and nous; all of which are amplified in a fully rapturous 9-part symphony. Is it too early to call this 2009's indie album of the year? Maybe. But anyone attempting to rival Dirty Projector's Bitte Orca from hereon will have the arduous task of catching a speeding train, which has advanced so far ahead in the game that all that's left is a trail of smoke and dust - something which their unfortunate contenders will be biting on.

"Useful Chamber"

"Two Doves"

the stars are exploding in lights

2009-06-05T21:52:00.000-07:00

Have you ever experienced a dream within a dream? Or one of those filled with gallant knights and mystical beings? Think Luis Buñuel's The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie meets Tarsem Singh's The Fall. That will give you a faint idea of what Bat for Lashes' Two Suns is about. Handpicked by Radiohead as their opening act in the 2008 tour, Natasha Khan (aka Bat for Lashes) is no stranger to lofty accolades; her debut album Fur & Gold received widespread critical acclaim including a Mercury Prize nomination, plus the endless comparisons to the likes of Kate Bush, Björk and PJ Harvey. With Two Suns, she proves that her colossal success thus far is no fluke: the album permeates your mind with visions of an astral world suffused in mythical imagery, antipodal themes and enigmatic harmonic streams.

"Glass" launches Two Suns to a glorious start. It captures the album's fabled spirit in shimmering visages of emerald cities, armoured knights and celestial entities. Khan's ghostly chamber-like voice rings throughout the song like a cryptic, unspoken spell. "Sleep Alone" carries the whiff of a middle-eastern guitar line which robes around Khan's animated, husky vocals in an enchanting, impassioned dance. The first single off Two Suns, "Daniel" adds a theatrical curtain to a conventional electro-pop template which adorns the album to greater textural lengths and pastel intonations.

Khan's imaginative breadth is reflected in colourful lyrical compositions. In "Moon and Moon", the protagonist's yearnings for companionship is illustrated vividly in the form of engrossing naturalistic characters: "When I get home / Down in the jungle / Where's my bear to lick me clean? / Feed my soul milk and honey." As the journey continues, the desert sighs, the city lullabies and the iris of the blue sky points you to the your next destination in "Pearl's Dream". "Two Planets" brings you to a tribal campfire dance of booming banjos, duple handclaps, and engineered keyboard footwork; the feel is like a spiritual celebration dedicated to the gods of an indigenous clan.

But it is "Siren Song" that hammers the album home. Her alter-ego Pearl, bearing a possessive desire for love, unravels a darker, baneful side; the song is shaped with arching melodies crashing and regressing, all delivered with exacting precision. It is Two Suns' answer to Fur & Gold's The Bat's Mouth. The final song, "The Big Sleep", is every bit as dramatic and twisted as it should be; think of Tim Burton's "The Corpse Bride" played out on a dusty, eerie piano, drenched in Khan's plaintive phrasing and Scott Walker's equally evocative accompaniment; this Victorian tragedy comes full circle.

There are some parts of Fur and Gold that I missed in Two Suns, but Khan has painted a landscape filled with florid story lines and beguiling tunes, a portrait so rich and lavish that listening to it feels too much like a dream - metaphorically speaking - for something like this seems all too good to be true. The album, like any great novel, choreography, or film had a beginning, a middle and an end and conceptually, it's perfect. It is that cloud of fireflies surrounding a lamp post, it is dusk begging for darkness to take over, it is that streaking comet tearing across the night sky, leaving billions of glittering sparks in its tracks, and it is that air of danger and mischief once the clock strikes midnight. It is a surrealistic sojourn into Khan's envisioned getaway, with magic and adventure abound on every metric, and it is an ethereal experience you do not want to wake out of.

"Glass"

"Siren Song"

while i'm alive, i'll make tiny changes to Earth

2009-06-05T04:18:00.000-07:00

5th of June marks World Environment Day, and this year's theme is all about combating climate change to save our dear old Gaia. Our planet is debilitated by homo sapiens' boundlessly selfish needs, so in my humble opinion, here are some ways to redeem ourselves:

- Phase out written exams. Have you seen the amount of notes and exam papers for every major examination? Do you know that 20% percent of students in the US are experiencing school-attributed depression? Not only will lesser trees be victimised, lesser students will not need to suffer the same fate.

- Practice the art of bathroom squatting and convert all flush toilet to squat toilets. It will reduce toilet paper usage by evicting the art of stacking mattress-high paper rolls on the seats of flush toilets and also prevents the contraction of skin-related infections on our sorry asses.

- All kinds of manure should be converted to electricity. I swear it's practical; I saw that on the news the other day and (yes, I've googled it up) it relies on the concept of electrolysis - how freakin' interesting is that? And hey, the technology itself costs just a couple of millions. Only. Just by looking at how interested government bodies are in military armaments - which hints at how deep their pockets can go - this shouldn't be too much of a problem right?

- There should be a global "Exterminate Roaches Day". These creatures are a bunch of vile, parasitical drones. Their mere existence - no, I'm not only referring to their god-awful colour, but their feelers and gelatin exoskeletons (gross..) - literally makes the Earth less green.

- Encourage 'less-cluttered' nocturnal activities. By curtailing the number of desperately-in-need-of-washing bedsheets and the arised frustration of cleaning them, we save water - viola!

So there you have it, my five cents worth. And hey don't laugh, they might come into effect one day.

Last but not least, what better way to end off World Environment Day with a perfect little song from the amazing Frightened Rabbit?

Heed Scott Hutchison's advice and make tiny changes to Earth today.

***

Jesus is just a Spanish boy's name.
How come one man got so much fame?
To enemy, it's pointless to anybody
That doesn't have faith
Give me the cloth and I'll wipe my face.

So you can burn me
Cause we'll all be the same, the same way.
Dirt in someone's eyes cried down the drain
I believe in a house in the clouds
And God's got his dead friends 'round
He's painted all the walls red
To remind them they're all dead

When it's all gone
Something carries on
And it's not morbid at all,
Just when natures had enough of you

When my blood stops,
Someone else's will not.
When my head rolls off,
Someone else's will turn.
And while I'm alive, I'll make tiny changes to earth.

- Head Rolls Off by The Frightened Rabbit

yes, you'll only bleed me dry

2009-06-04T10:06:00.000-07:00

Every once in while, there comes an album that leaves you speechless - Grizzly Bear’s Veckatimest is that album. There are, of course, two very dissimilar reactions to this: some don’t know what to make of what they’re hearing; others are pretty much like the first, but the difference is that they’d be pinching themselves for reassurance that they’re actually listening to a record this augustly intricate and perennially impressive. Hailing from the epicentre of indie music, the Brooklyn quartet has painted a colourful sonic landscape throughout the years: from the homely feel of Horn of Plenty to the demented, haunting Yellow House and now their third full-length record promises to outline their harmonic arc with a singular clarity that’s bolder and louder than ever before.

Because the instrumentation here is so lavish and composite, I find it hard to describe what kind of fabric Grizzly Bear has sewn here. More than anything, it’s a patchwork of the old and the current, of everything there is in music - throttling seamlessly from baroque-pop to neo-psychedelia to experimental rock to freak-folk and back again. The best thing about the album is its dicey nature; it teases and ruses you with melodies that are seemingly orthodox, but it unknowingly comes from behind and deliver a sucker punch to your head and you wouldn’t even know what had hit you.

“Southern Point” opens up the album to a romping start. It feels like a cacophonous blizzard of duelling string play against Daniel Rossen’s vocals, showered in icy synth beats and rapturous drum work. Picture the midpoint between Here We Go Magic’s Here We Go Magic and Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion and you’ll get the idea. “Two Weeks” immediately brings forth a turn of tides with opening lyrics like “Save up all the days / A routine malaise / Just like yesterday / I told you I would stay.”; the song speaks to us with an equivocal casualness that’s very cryptic and very cool.

“All We Ask” starts off with a folksy post-rock sequence before the bongos and cello lines take over, exposing its freak-folk interior. “Dory” swims its way into a ghostly lake of choir phrases that casts a creepy but somewhat reposing spell. “Cheerleader” and “While You Wait for The Others” explores more of the band’s chamber pop side, and they qualify as the band’s quirkier charmers that’ll leave you beaming just listening to them. The last of the three songs which features the Brooklyn Youth Choir, “Foreground” brings the album to a sublime, disquieting close – the exact aftertaste Grizzly Bear intended.

Although Veckatimest remains a stunning album, it’s not without its flaws. The three songs right after “Dory” could’ve been one continuous piece altogether and they seem to be searching for a distinctive melody. “I Live with You” is another discursive song wedged in between two good numbers, spoiling the penultimate climax that the album deserves. Also, the lyrical skeleton here could do better with more of a sapient appeal, something that would effectively serve as a connective vessel to Veckatimest’s myriad of intertwining sonic membrane.

Along the lines of art-rock ornamentation, there’s the danger of coming across as forced and feigned, but Grizzly Bear’s deconstruction of conventional music hooks is too nuanced to come off as irksomely show-offish. The songs here don’t jump at you like an angry creature, but if you take the time to explore them, they will reveal themselves to be rewarding sensual treats and that, I believe, is the greatest payoff in Veckatimest.

"Southern Point"

"All We Ask"

this is a gift, it comes with a price

2009-05-28T06:58:00.000-07:00

I think I'm officially in love with Florence Welch's voice. It has all of Dolores O'Riordan's (from the Cranberries) springy cathartic yelps and is anchored by a rooted, penetrating intensity reminiscent of Heartless Bastards' Erica . In 2008, Flourence and the Machine enthralled music lovers everywhere with their debut single, "Kiss With A Fist": a fast and loose chase of tongue-in-cheek lines which dives into a all-out indie-garage roll; the feeling is like driving a car blindfolded, with an unfastened seat belt and a foot on the accelerator pedal.

Writing songs that tell "stories with consequences and weird morality issues", Welch's inclination for metaphorical song crafting is evident even sonically in A Lot of Love, A Lot of Blood; the most promising of the lot is "Dog Days Are Over": the juxtaposing interplay of heavy, pounding drumbeats against light, twinkling pluck-work is dabbled with brushstrokes of Welch's kinetic treble. This spills over to "Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)", enjoying more of that mystical harp work and pulling in the some loose pop reins from "You've Got the Love", it serves as the perfect intermediary for the next track.

"You've Got the Love", one of two singles released this year, is a standard pop number that does something in a non-standard fashion. It isn't afraid of looking at its simplistic melodic hooks and accepting it with a touch of lyrical honesty and contemplative imprint.

Their attempt at the Cold War Kid's cover, "Hospital Beds", exemplifies acoustic bar/pub goodness: one that fully underscores the strength of Welch's pipes which gashes through the lo-fi mist of minimal orchestration and the effect is immediate and inescapable; you can almost picture her singing in an acoustic session, surrounded by a flood of light in room filled with dusky cigarette-mist and all you need is a few shots of liquor and a bowl of chips.

Armed with two newly released singles, "You've Got the Love" and "Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)", and an EP A Lot of Love, A Lot of Blood, Flourence and the Machine are gearing up for their upcoming full-length album entitled Lungs out on 6th July.

"Dog Days Are Over"

"Kiss With a Fist"

Why we need Kris Allen to be the American Idol

2009-05-21T09:22:00.000-07:00

I'm saying this, knowing full well that my life may be in jeopardy hereafter: Kris Allen deserves to be the American Idol. Hold on now people, put down your shoes, stones and nail polishes - hear me out.

But first, I wanna talk the last performance show on Tuesday night. If there could be a word to describe it, it would be 'vapid'. Who's to blame? The producers and the contestants. Firstly, both Adam and Kris were not given a chance to sing an original song of their preference. Instead they were coerced to perform songs that A) were done before, B) picked by someone else, C) the dreadful traditional schmaltz-feast winner's single. Suggestion: A) allowing them to sing a song which best reflects their musical style, B) scrape off this idea; get the audience to choose for them instead, I have faith that they know better, C) Get better songwriters, please.

Next, I appreciate the fact that Adam and Kris tried to change things up slightly the second time they're performing their best songs during the first round, but that cannot save the next two ghastly rounds. For his "Mad World" performance, Adam came out in a trench coat and was walking through a blanket of mist; I thought I was watching the Grim Reaper singing in a cemetery. He certainly got the theatre-drama feel part down, and for the first time I actually enjoyed it. Plus, it fits the mood of a morbid world-weary song like this. Kris' "Ain't No Sunshine" was pure brilliance, and were I him, I would find it hard to choose between that and "Falling Slowly"; but in a measure of creativity and impact, the former would be the logical choice.

I for one, wasn't leaping off my seat for Adam's "A Change is Gonna Come" like the rest of the judges were; it was such a histrionic, attention-demanding scream-feast that totally washed away everything I liked about Adam's first number which was sublime, focused and arresting. oh, it was arresting alright, but for all the wrong reasons. The shrieking was so overdone that, at one point, I thought that I was about to witness exploding heads on television, which would be more plausible than Adam's vocal register.

As for Kris' "What's Going On?", I can only say that it wasn't his choice and he played true to his style, although I have to agree with Randy that for a finale as grand and lavish as American Idol, it bordered on casual laziness. Once again, like Adam, Kris had no say in this and wasn't left with much margin to play around with.
Finally, they got to sing Kara's song, "No Boundaries". My god, I think everyone knows how bad it was - Adam's voice did not suit the song at all and it was too high for Kris' vocal range. (though I wondered why didn't they have him sing in a lowered key)

Based on vocal techniques and superstar persona, the rightful winner should be Adam, no question about that. If the determination of the winner was based on Tuesday night's performance, it would still be Adam. But history had shown that the better contestant doesn't necessary constitute a win. Take a look at last year's finale, where Archuleta was marginally better than Cook at all three rounds, but the latter emerged victorious. Frankly speaking, anyone from the Top 5 had as much of a chance as Kris to be in the finals, and they were just as talented as him, not an ounce less.

Danny has that soulful gospel feel to his voice and was arguably had one of the best male vocals in the show, second only to Adam. Perhaps it was his unduly gospel touch to every song he croons and the lack of bold, spontaneous song choices. Week after week, we get the same, albeit perfect-perfect, routine performances; he was like a clinical clockwork, who cannot work with anything out of his niche. That is evinced from Rock Week, where till this day I cannot find myself to forgive that ear-shredding, horrific shriek of Danny Gokey on Aerosmith's "Dream On". Poor Steve Tyler. Allison Iraheta was a contestant whom I had supported right from the start; the 16-year-old carries a swagger and the vocal prowess of a seasoned songstress, and the only thing going against her is her lack of popularity which resulted in a fate that is shared by the likes of Latoya London and Melinda Dolittle. Matt Giraud, for me, was the most unpredictable contestant on the show. He took huge risks; some of them paid off ("My Funny Valentine", "Who's Loving You", "Georgia on My Mind"), while others bombed ("Have You Really Loved a Woman", "Viva la Vida"). Personally, I looked forward to watching him every week, and given his expansive talent and potential in a smorgasbord of genres, there's no telling what he'd do. And that's the thing I loved most about him - he had that element of surprise that was missing in Danny. With Matt, he had as much of chance to make it to the finals as to be crumbled under the weight of his recklessness.

You can quibble that the votes were rigged to elicit stupefaction; that unlike Kris, Adam didn't enjoy the votes of pubescent tween girls; that Adam was just too indulgently and cringe-affectingly theatrical; that he was, like David Archuleta, a casualty of over-hyped media buzz-kill; that, along with Danny and Allison, the public loved to hate the judges' favourites; that people, till this day, are still acrimoniously religious and unforgivably homophobic.

It is no big secret that Kris Allen's vocals are nowhere near that of Adam's or Danny's. Frankly, if anyone had asked me whether he would had any chance at all to win this competition two months back when he first performed "Man In the Mirror", I would have answered no. He is just a regular 23-year-old college bloke, that guy you see standing at the sidewalk with a sling bag slung to one side and a guitar case on his other.

So why, in God's name, would he be fitting of the title 'American Idol'?

The answer lies precisely in the fact that he is 'just another regular bloke' and that makes him all the more worthy. He is someone whom we can connect with; someone likeable and approachable, untouched by media overkill and Hollywood indulgences and devoid of that glamorous superstar presence which everyone fawns over with. His growth throughout the competition emphasised the importance of having any Idol competition in the first place - to search for someone with the ability to shine under the weight of pressure, demands and scrutiny. This growth is marked by original reconstructions of shrewd song choices; a musicianship that acts like a shape-shifting device blending his dreamy, pop-ish pipes with trendy, ingenious editions into the themes he is presented with every week. His uncanny ability to interpret songs with his own signature twist like no other earmarks him as a creative individual who understands the importance of musical novelty. Because of this, he has managed to surpass his vocal limitations and elevated himself to the same league as his contemporaries with greater experience, stellar vocals or show-stopping stage presence. Kris is a grower, the underdog that we've come to love who had played the competition to the fullest: taking advantage of his strengths and methodically choosing to manifest them slowly and gradually. Just for sheer astuteness, he's already a winner in my books.

But most importantly, Kris represents the everyday person with a passion for music: that kid next door jamming away in his room, that wannabe songwriter scribbling lyrics on a wrinkled notepad in the bus, and that street performer singing along to his guitar on the sidewalk. He is a living, breathing proof that there is a place in the music industry for that person with don't have Jennifer Hudson's vocals or David Cook's stage bravura, but with a fervent heart who beats and bleeds for music. His accession from obscurity serves as a vital inspiration for self-doubting, aspiring musicians everywhere that they have an equal shot at this and all they need to do is to take the first step. It is a testament that success and fame isn't blind to common folks with seemingly common talents, and that its parameters are not as limited as former societal presumptions.

As Kris looks up with a childlike wonder, at a crowd soaked in jubilant celebration, he concludes one of the best seasons of American Idol with the winner's single and croons the words, "there are no boundaries" - a line which I deem to be the most fitting of closures.

I'll see you in Los Angeles

2009-05-18T06:18:00.000-07:00

An epic song for the epic season finale of Lost: Closer to Heaven by Pink Mountaintops

If you're wondering why wasn't there a review of the season finale of Lost last week, it was because I was still in the midst of wrapping my mind around it and thus no comment could be made then. The trouble about the season finale of Lost was that it once again opened up a whole new bag of abstruse mysteries and although certain answers were granted, they don't always succinctly or satisfyingly quench our hunger for the truth and that's the episode's major pitfall. But coming up with a finale to match that of season 3 or 4 is no easy feat, and all things considered, The Incident did provide compelling inroads to the story and character arcs - an old trick that never goes stale.

The Incident was a patchwork of three threading storylines inter-cutting the past and present; the most engrossing one belongs to the 1977 plot of detonating the hydrogen bomb, mapped out by a now-dead Daniel Faraday. Another integral storyline involved the revealing of the 'legendary' Jacob (someone whom we have been dying to meet for five seasons) and how he assembled and convinced his 'crew' of the Oceanic 815 back to the island, as well as the enigmatic IIIana. Weakest of the lot is the 2007 storyline whose only purpose is to tell us three things:
1) Whatever Ben said about his connections with Jacob is nothing but drivel.
2) Richard's anti-ageing capabilities is not a result of continual facelifts (who knows, ancient tribal techniques?) but that of Jacob's doings.
3) Locke is really dead, which is truly unfortunate, because it proves that he had always been a puppet all his life; from his fraudulent father who stole his kidney and paralysed him (on separate occasions), to his untimely death thanks to our ever-scheming Benjamin Linnus. Like I said, John Locke is the most saddening character on the show and somehow I wished the writers could have done him some justice by not marking the words "Fool" on his grave, so I'm secretly the real John Locke is somewhat alive, but given how the story is progressing, it's a bit of a stretch.
Of course, it also confirms our suspicions that Ben, just like Locke, is nothing but a tool in the endless battle of supremacy between Jacob and his nemesis.
For a dastard as nefarious and power-hungry as Ben, he now suffers the fate of being manipulated instead of being the manipulator he has always been.

"They come, they fight, they destroy, they corrupt.
It always ends the same."

Perhaps one of the greatest revelations of The Incident is the opening sequence, where the identity of Jacob as well as his anonymous nemesis was revealed. The scene construed the long-lasting feud that Eloise and Charles mentioned throughout the season - that between Jacob and his friend in black. One believes in progress and the goodness of the civilisation; the other is ingrained with the atrocities and the corruption of men. Here, you can see the strong reference to the show's primary inspiration - William Golding's Lord of the Flies.
Based on this, I assume the following (though without absolute faith):
1) The Others are part of Jacob's people.
2) Hurley is probably the most unpredictable 'variable', given his free-willed nature that is essential to bring about change, and my guess is that he might be the one who can save them all; this is, of course, assuming that Daniel's plan was a complete fiasco.
3) Jacob's adversary, has something to do with the smoke monster. I can't pinpoint how or why, but going by the flow of events they seem to be in cahoots. I also think that the smoke monster may be responsible for manifesting the apparition of Christian Sheppard and John Locke.
4) There are ambiguous rules between the two rulers. They can't physically kill each other, thus the need to 'find a loophole'. And we all know what, or rather, who the loophole is.

"We travelled back thirty years in time and you're still trying to find ways to shoot each other?"

People change. Take Jack for example, who turned from a logic-bound leader to a destiny-believing follower. Thankfully, some of them stay the way they are. We got to see Rose, Bernard and Vincent who have been living a self-constructed hut all this time, and it was a pleasant, nostalgic meeting of sorts. Other than Desmond and Penny, Rose and Bernard are my next favourite couple in the show, and their storyline was one of sweetest, most tender love story I've ever come across and it reminded me of the reason why love existed in the first place.
Another great moment was when Rose echoed the sentiments of Jacob's nemesis by gently questioning the need of discord and violence. I liked it that they deem themselves to be 'retired' and were contented to simply cherish the moments they share with each other without any worries for the flying bullets, radiating electromagnetic pockets and a 20-tonne hydrogen bomb.

"Blow up, you son of a bitch!"

Juliet will end up to be every one's saviour if Daniel's plan works out according to plan. I've always been a fan of Juliet's story arc and the heartfelt performance of Elizabeth Mitchell. We saw a shy, self-doubting researcher transform into a confident, ass-kicking lass, who's only weakness is her emotional impulsion. You can feel her pain as she watch the submarine drift away from the island; in her heart, she knew it was her last shot at returning to the outside world. What's more painful to watch is the tearful parting of Juliet and Sawyer when she decided to let go of his hand only to be weighed down by the metallic chains; even more painful is the final scene where you see a severely injured Juliet desperately hitting a rock to ignite the hydrogen shell. Seriously, do all good guys die in the end?

"I'll see you in Los Angeles."

Yes, we got that epic finish we all had been waiting for, with a dauntless Jack leading his people to a face-off with the Radzinsky crew. In a flashback of that famous surgery mentioned in the Season 3 opener, we finally get to see how it all happened when Jack made a blunder during a surgerical procedure, only to be calmed by his father - something which I'm sure satisfied Lost fans everywhere. In a different timeline, we also get to see Ben stabbing Jacob without facing any resistance from him. I get the feeling that he's got a plan in motion, and that's not the end of him; I mean he couldn't have spent all these years gathering people and dwelling in that place doing nothing but sewing right?

So, my fellow Lost fanatics, this is it - Season 5 had come to a close. Comparatively, I did not enjoy this season as much the last which I thought was a perfect season through and through. But as the curtains come down on yet another breathless installment of Lost, we're once again, left with the many lingering questions and the after-thoughts of the season's impact on the overall structure of the show - from the time-shifting flashes to the journey back to the island, from the Dharma charade to the attempted murder of a young Benjamin Linus, from the revival of John Locke to the unfortunate deaths of John Locke (now confirmed), Charlotte, Daniel and Juliet. In the end, like what Jack promised Sawyer, I can only hope for one thing in the final season: To see everyone landing safely in Los Angeles.

there's more than one of everything

2009-05-13T05:41:00.000-07:00

Help, I'm Alive (acoustic) - Metric

Oh, my god.

That was my initial reaction to the season finale of Fringe. Well, I should've seen that coming. This is after all, Fringe being classic Fringe. But still, what a finale and this one really opened up a floodgate of questions and possibilities. Alternate realities, hidden truths, shimmering portals and of course our dear old William Bell, played by Leonard Nimoy aka Spork from Star Trek. Maybe he crossed over from the parallel universe too; this is the second time I'm seeing him onscreen this week after watching another J.J Abram's creation, Star Trek.

One of the highlights of the show was learning certain pivotal truths about the characters. One in particular is Peter, who was actually schlepped from the alternate universe and this elucidates Peter's lopsided indifference and apparent amnesia after an accident when he was a kid - he is not the Peter that he's supposed to be. Walter mentioned this when he said he lost something important (no prizes for the correct answer) and this underscores the symbolic preponderance of the coin that was entrusted to him by the Observer - it was the coin that reminded him of the son that he had lost. Logically, the Peter in this world isn't meant to be a college dropout, or mixing with thugs or possessing some very lawfully-questionable connections. Now, I really wonder what would the other Oliver be like in the alternate world - will she be lawfully antipodal instead of being a lawful enforcer? Or even Walter for that matter? We all know they're supposed to be diametric, but the question lies in the how than the what - is it a matter of choice, persona or intellect?

And then there is also our healthy serving of Fringe theories. The part about the Earth having weak spots where the membrane between this world and the alternate one being almost porous is another tasty sci-fi treat. Walter explains that if the portal is left opened, so will the danger of inter-dimensional diffusion presents itself; Stephen King's The Mist, anyone? I wonder if that happens on Fringe, will we get to see that gi-normous alien monster from Cloverfield.

But like I said, the story is spiked with so many nagging questions and some of them challenges basic logic. Why would an electric power cell capable of bringing on apocalypse to this world be kept in a robotic arm fixed to a frail middle-aged women? What is this war that ZFT has been talking about? What is the relationship between Walter and the Observer; or more importantly, what is the browless bald guy's role in the grand scheme of things?

Okay, enough of navel-gazing already. Other than being a largely satisfying first season, I sure hope that we would see more character development for Peter (they perpetrated a half-baked storyline in one episode that's so desperate and forced, I can't even remember what is it all about) and perhaps attempt to create a character out of a almost non-existent Astrid. She may not be the smartest nor is she calling any shots here, but she appears to be most accessible character in the show; she shares that initial sense of gasping bewilderment from all that warped 'happenings' and thereby injecting a much needed, plausible human touch to the show. That being said, Fringe has already sealed its mark on my favourites list and the final scene of Oliver cluelessly staring out of the World Trade Centre is akin to my current situation; I share the same bafflement, but this is just being applied to a slightly different scenario: What can I do on Tuesday nights from now till September?

Oh, the agony.

The Repeat List II: Sit tight and take a breath before you dive

2009-05-10T05:54:00.000-07:00

Three ways to get caffeinated and overcharged.

1. Taller Children - Elizabeth and the Catapult
(from Taller Children)

I've written quite a bit on this red-hot Brooklyn trio some time ago and I'm pleased to know that their album, Taller Children is available digitally
now. I've yet to check that out, but the title track is just plain fun. It's like a beaming, jittery box of sunshine that can't wait to get out and start bouncing all over. And don't even get me started on the ear-gasmic climax starting from the second minute: the piano staccatos, guitar riffs and Ziman's voice seem to be trying to outdo each other as they climb toward the crescendo, challenging the other to do one better. How can you say no to a song like that?

2. Just A Silhouette - Ex Lovers

This is what I call comfort music - sunny guitar phrases, laid-back Sunday-afternoon vocals and lighthearted drum passages. It is like getting that shot of espresso every morning, nothing too heavy or too placid - it's simple, essential unadulterated gratification.

3. Percussion Gun - White Rabbits
(from It's Frightening)

There's something strangely alluring about this song that I can't put my finger on. I'm not sure which of the following I'm more drawn to: the rolling jungle-esque drums, the frazzled bass lines, or the blistering vocals of Stephen Patterson. Perhaps it's the combination of it all, and this is set to be their first single off their upcoming sophomore album, It's Frightening, out on May 19th. Produced by Britt Daniel of Spoon and going by the benchmark set by the album opener, I can expect It's Frightening to be nothing short of a splendid ruckus.