Todd A

It only took about 30 seconds of listening to DBA’s record before I was hooked and excited. Their immediate energy was palpable. There was a taint of dread — would the rest of the songs blow me away like the opener, “Battle Lines” had? It’s a prickly position for a band to put themselves in – opening with such an ass-kicker – but when your material is as good as DBA’s, you can be this confident.
(continue reading…)

Sometimes it is a shame that the term “emo” (once short for “emotional hardcore”) became as watered-down as the bands it tried to describe. In cases such as Moneen’s, the original emphasis of the term fits the band’s fiery guitars, anguished vocals and complicated arrangements.
(continue reading…)

If there’s an element of danger in The Red Hot Valentines’ Summer Fling, it’s that it might be too sweet. Sweetness is best in small doses, after all. Like the All-American Rejects and the Get Up Kids, The Red Hot Valentines play up-tempo guitar pop that’s practically become an institution for Midwestern bands. And, like those bands, TRHV walks the thin line between sweetened pop and saccharined wuss.
(continue reading…)

Smothered in fuzz, Suffrajett comes off like a grunge-y Eurythmics. The duo of guitarist Jason Chasko and singer Simi work with loud drums, growling bass and over-fuzzed guitars, but it is Simi’s hoarse and direct voice which separates them from the garage rock pack.
(continue reading…)

The collection is primarily notable because rather than giving us a grab bag of remixes of a few tracks, Astralwerks has assembled a completely remixed version of The Faint’s Danse Macabre – each track done by a different remixer. Only “Posed to Death” appears twice but each version is so different that it hardly sounds like the same song. Because the original material is top notch, sending remixers in is a risk. Fortunately, none turns a Faint song into a booty bangin’ club anthem. (continue reading…)

“We’re not living in Ameeerica…” goes the chorus to the title track of The Sounds new record. Though by that point, it’s screamingly obvious that they’re not living in America. If they were, they’d have known that their brand of high-pitched keyboard rock music went out of fashion in the early 80s.

I’d call them out-of-date, but in Europe this is cutting edge. What with the devastating taxation and all the communism, Europe is still living in the late 1970s. In Sweden, where The Sounds formed and decided to name their band after Nashville’s minor league baseball team, milk still comes in cardboard boxes.

That said, I’m eating it up like Kinder Sorpresa chocolate eggs.
(continue reading…)

The greatest accomplishment of Murfreesboro’s Imaginary Baseball League is the way each song on their new EP Cardiact wholly absorbs the listener. Even at four and five minutes, no song feels as long as it really is. It is a testament to the band�s clever arrangements that nothing sounds repetitive.
(continue reading…)

[This piece originally appeared in the Rage.]

I’m going to go far out on a very thin limb and say that Liz Phair’s eponymously-titled fourth album is actually good. Having gone from DIY lo-fi indie queen to working with Avril Lavigne’s production team, The Matrix, dealt Phair a severe credibility blow. Reviews have made much of the slick hyper-produced sound, but, it’s been ten years since her debut. Are we not supposed to expect any change? Even the subtle musical shift from her debut Exile in Guyville to its successor WhipSmart showed an interest in becoming more accessible. In such a way, Liz Phair is something to which she has always aspired. (continue reading…)

I caught up with Damone via a very shaky cell phone connection as they headed into Canada for their last few dates on the Warped Tour. Vasquez, bassist for the Waltham, Mass. foursome, was kind enough to keep calling me back everytime his phone droped the call.

It may require more than a couple of listens for Stairwell to seep into your brain. The reason being that bands with carefully interconnected guitar lines and even-tempered vocals have been cursed by the countless, faceless mediocre purveyors of such rock. When a band gets it right (as Stairwell do over and over), one may be immediately skeptical that they can do it again. Amazingly, Stairwell never miss through The Sounds of Change�s ten tracks.
(continue reading…)

Pressed to name my favorite record of the year so far, I would name The Adventures of Jet’s Muscle.
(continue reading…)