Showing posts with label narration (uncomfortable). Show all posts
Showing posts with label narration (uncomfortable). Show all posts

Monday, 13 December 2010

Cheveu - 'Dog/Make My Day' (S-S)

'Dog' begins with a dirty casio beat, straightforward and bold. Then a guitar riff that you've heard before, somewhere, and some harsh barking megaphone vocals. When the chorus hits it's all fun, an infectious apocalyptic vision. The guitars never stop going dung-dung-dung-dung-dung like immense raindrops. Flipside 'Make My Day' is a longer but the beat doesn't waver either; the guitars are thicker and strummed, and occasional organ-keyboard vamps seek out the white light. The vocals are gruff, barking "make my day", a mockery of tough-guy heroics. Other guitars (or maybe that's a bass) add nice thickening when needed, a nice gesture. For the end the beat opens up, but the song somehow becomes more claustrophobic, drowning in spattering of vocal babble and electronic processing. This was released in 2006, and to me, it announced that the new leaders of line-in GarageBand bedroom avant-punk had arrived, and they were French. Whouda thought!

Thursday, 21 October 2010

Car Commercials - 'Jar' (Leaf Leaf)

This is the debut slab of fucked-upness from these Jersey boys, and one that obviously resonated with me enough that I felt compelled to collect their discography. But how could I not, after hearing 'Holland's anthemic rush? Rock and roll lives, and this is a riff for the ages, and when it descends into bridge made up of an aimless arpeggio, muttering and other shrieking before rocking out on a total jam ... well, it's up there with the greatest rock mindmelds in the canon. And I'm not saying "this is a clever deconstruction of the greatest rock songs ever", I'm saying that this is one of the greatest rock songs ever, and who gives a shit about deconstruction? ( I bet they don't). My accolades aren't meant to diminish the accomplishments of the other 3 tracks here, all of which are previews of their future work. 'Make Me See Joanne' is a plodding, introspective trail that leads nowhere, and 'Water' is an exploratory introduction that is charmingly pastoral at moments, with hints of the walkman-fuckery we get later. 'Rest Stop' closes things out, a ballad of beyond-the-bridge strumming and naievely stupid narrating. This is still their best record, but isn't that always how it goes?