The Symbolick Jews "God Is You My Brothers, My Sisters"

Listen to/buy God Is You My Brothers, My Sisters

OK, so The Symbolick Jews have never been a particularly polished band. Their music crashes around recklessly, bumping into and knocking over your grandmother's precious music genres like an autistic 5 year old whose twisted uncle thought it would be fun to slip booze to at Thanksgiving. But it's that very same recklessness that makes The Symbolick Jews an absolute blast to listen to. Perhaps it's because they've never had the same lineup on two albums. Perhaps it's because they never take themselves terribly seriously, and it usually shows...but once in a while they'll write a song like "Book of Love" (from their debut Confession Time) that is so heart-wrenchingly genuine, you can't help but sit straight up and wonder "Wait, what band is this again?"

Just recently the Symbolick Jews embarked on their third North American tour, heading South through California, East into Arizona and eventually wrapping things up in Texas. In typical Symbolick fashion, they also quietly released their third LP (2nd this year), entitled God Is You My Brothers, My Sisters. However, the music here is anything but quiet. It's ballsy, it's sweaty,
it's completely rambunctious. The songs that aren't are brooding, hypnotic slow-burners that steadily build in intensity until everything collapses under the pressure. Actually, most of the songs end like that.

It's at this point that I am haunted by the fact that I never wrote about their 2nd album, Can I Trust You. I'd like to make all sorts of comparisons...like how God Is You strips away the vocoders and many of the electronic trappings that made their previous LP so weird and unique, instead returning the band to their raw rock roots (say that 10 times fast). But I can't (to either). All I can do is recommend you check out Can I Trust You, encourage you to make your own comparisons, and beg your forgiveness for my oversight.

God Is You begins with a bang, as lazily crashing waves of guitar provide context for a wailing singer who is "so f*#&king tired". This is no hazy, bleary-eyed dirge, a la The Beatles' "I'm So Tired", but rather the sound of a band waking up, making coffee, plugging in and preparing to rock. The Jews then proceed to launch into a Dadaist/Krautrock workout in the hypnotic "He Got a Job" (which spurned the band's very first music video, in which everyone pees on each other).

The Symbolick Jews are the paranoid, babbling voices in your head...and this time there are more voices than ever. Frontman Adam Healton shares vocal duties with at least 5 others, which seems to take a bit of pressure off of him, and because of this the whole band sounds like it's having a lot more fun. In fact, this is their first album that really seems like a true communal effort.

Other noteworthy tracks include "I'm Lucky", which is a fuzzy, blissed out guitar-driven song about being grateful to wake up next to that special someone, and "I Got To You", which quite possibly is the band's catchiest song to date, with "lead" singer Adam's unique voice blending wonderfully with one of three female singers scattered on this LP. If you're more into the avant-garde, Symbolick Jews have got you covered with the brief, unclassifiable freakouts "Sly's Salad Bar", "A Rare Hope", and in typically-lengthy album closer fashion, the crazy 14 minute epic "Peace Be With You".

God Is You certainly rewards repeated listenings, as drummer/producer Brian Davy has seen to it that each track is a dense forest of sound, populated with subtle electronics mixed just low enough so as to make listening with headphones a real treat. My hat goes off to Adam, Brian and the rest of the Symbolick Jews...whoever they are this time around. They've crafted a loose-yet-focused masterpiece that few other bands could convincingly pull off. The Symbolick Jews are a wild beast with a heart of gold, and here's hoping they'll never be tamed. -Matt

Music Video: Symbolick Jews "He Got the Job"

Here's a brand new song and video from our friends, the Symbolick Jews! This song is loose and catchy, and brings to mind a mix of Pere Ubu and Lou Reed (with perhaps a little Pixies thrown in there as well). I'm really looking forward to hearing whatever new album they're cooking up next. In the meantime, be sure to check out two other stellar albums right here.

P.S. This video might be NSFW, unless your boss is cool with stuff like pissing on other people through a hole in a pizza box.

Instagon "Sleepwalking"

Listen to Instagon / Buy Sleepwalking

I've toyed around with the idea of doing live show reviews here on The Informed Conformist for a bit, but it's just not realistic at this point for a couple reasons...one, other than the occasional contribution from Adam or Willwave, I maintain this blog by myself, and there's just no way I can get out to see and review enough shows by myself, and two...I'm not entirely certain live music is the most reviewable thing anyway. Sure, a supposedly 'well rehearsed' band could go out on stage, forget all their songs, break all the strings on their instruments and that would be a 'bad' show. But what about improvised music? What about all the bands that don't rehearse at all? How does one discuss the sort of free-flowing, formless music that seemingly comes from nowhere, has no inherent musical genre, and thus cannot be distinguished from right or wrong, good or bad, correct and not? And what happens when these types of bands record an album?

Luckily for most music critics, not many bands like this exist to be reviewed. Surely this fact must make the days between paychecks easier to bear. But here in Sacramento, we have Instagon. Instagon is a band whose name I see everywhere...whether thanks to the tireless self promoting of head Instagonian/bassist LOB, the fact that he's been up to this for more than 17 years now, or (more than likely) both. But what is an Instagon? And why should you care anyway?

Essentially, Instagon means "instantly gone", a reference to the band's spontaneous and improvisational nature. This nature extends well beyond the music, however, and into the very core of the band's identity. Plenty of bands can go out and "jam"...what makes Instagon so unique is they are never the same ensemble twice. In over 551 shows since 1993, Instagon has never once had the same group of musicians onstage. And Instagon isn't the sort of band you audition for...when the time is right, LOB will recruit YOU. Naturally, some nights are an unorganized mess of people turning up their amps and stepping on each others' toes. Other nights, everything will fall into place in such a way, you'd swear the music was tightly rehearsed or manipulated into being via a series of complicated hand signals or some secret language known only by the band onstage.

This chaotic, unpredictable nature makes Instagon an absolute blast to experience live...but what about on record? I've been given an advance copy of Instagon's new studio album Sleepwalking to enjoy and review, but before that, there are a few things I'd like to note. First, this album features a static group of musicians. Right away, a large part of what makes Instagon so unique is thrown out the window. However, this isn't much different than your typical single Instagon show, and this isn't a trait you can really appreciate until you've seen them play several times anyway. Secondly, the music, or rather, the fact that it's recorded to CD sort of goes against the whole "instantly gone" concept. I've listened to the same Instagon track 3 times now, and it hasn't changed once. The universe SHOULD begin to implode any second now.

All kidding aside, LOB has recruited a stellar group to record Sleepwalking, so none of my petty gripes actually matter. As far as I can tell, Sleepwalking was recorded live in the studio, so I feel I'm being fair when I say that this may be the best hour of live music I've heard yet from these guys. There's a lot of ambient space on this album, as opposed to the busy, noodly playing that bogs down a lot of "jam" rock music. There's room to breathe here, which makes it easy for the music to drift in and out of your consciousness, as the album title seems to imply/encourage.

Tracks like "Freeborn" build slowly and steadily, though instead of coming to a noisy crescendo like one might expect, the music becomes farther away and more reverb-drenched, chugging along like some phantom train disappearing into the night. Others like "Cosmic" and "Brainwashed Love Pt. 2" feature the melodic sax work of Jaroba, who brings a very distinct flavor to the album's sonic palette. Jaroba's sax playing is well utilized here, lingering in the balance of things and never "saying" any more than it needs to. He's not just a "saxophonist", he's a member of the band. He knows not to play out of turn, lest he be sucked into the undertow of the psychedelic abyss.

The most adventurous track here is the 12-minute "Dripfall", which begins as a modest, rhythmically synchronized experiment in non-melodic minimalism, and eventually morphs into this musical Hydra of sorts...each head thinking and moving independently while still sharing the same heartbeat. This sort of music could almost be described as "sentient". It seems to have a mind of it's own...like hundreds of microorganisms that are individually insignificant, until the pieces form together and create this pulsating, living organic alien mass...an abomination unto God, and a miracle of Science (er, Music).

Sleepwalking is a nicely-produced-albeit-no-frills album that both embraces the chaos as well as spits in its face. This music is HERE, damn it. Rather than surrendering itself as a cosmic offering to the powers that be, Sleepwalking is instead an offering to the curious ears of anyone bold enough to take the journey. The music opens doors in your brain that are similar to those open when daydreaming or sleepwalking. It seems created specifically for the subconscious mind. This is patient, aimless music for everyone and no one.

Sometime, I'd really like to see Instagon experiment in the studio, perhaps bringing in a new group of musicians to record each track. So many people have played with Instagon over the years, I can see how that would be a challenging, yet extremely rewarding project. However, the musicians present on Sleepwalking don't leave much to be desired, and help create the strongest recording Instagon has put out yet. Instagon ARE a live band, though, and there is no substitution for seeing a show. Be sure to catch them whenever you can, and enjoy the experience for what it is...you'll NEVER see that band again. - Matt

Doofy Doo "Fingerpaint"

Listen to / Download Fingerpaint (direct link)

"I am a player and I will not lie / I have a couple of girls on the side", so begins Fingerpaint, the most recent offering from Sacramento's shamanic one-man-band Doofy Doo. Hell, if I could sound this much like a Collective of Animals (specifically a Panda Bear) I'd probably be seeing a lot more action myself. However, in just under 17 minutes, Fingerpaint is able to evoke the absolute best of all of its influences, and evens takes things to a new level by lightening the mood and never dwelling in one place for longer than absolutely necessary.

Fingerpaint is a psychedelic tapestry of sound. It's so unique and brief, it's more of an event than an album. "Whoa, did you hear that?" "What just happened?" Come to think of it, it seems perfectly designed in both length and mood for a salvia trip (although, speaking from experience, I can't recommend salvia to anyone but psychonaut masochists).

It hasn't been long at all, before "Hands" explodes into this incredible reverb-soaked sonic landscape of jangling guitar, howling vocals and crashing cymbals. It's so uplifting and exciting that it makes it difficult to sit with my arms crossed like the jaded hipster douche bag I sometimes worry I am. The music video Doofy and his friends made really captures the intensely joyous mood of this song.

The title track is also worth noting for it's kaleidoscopic quality. Gentle arpeggios and a brisk drum beat set the mood nicely for the choir of heavenly angels that descend to sing/ask "Do you like playing with fingerpaint?" The music evokes a strange nostalgia and reminds me of being a little kid, laying on my back on the grass and watching the clouds. It's hard to believe so much can be done in under two minutes...but that might also be because I keep listening to it over and over again. In fact, this album sort of demands repeated listening, and my one and only gripe is that it's so short. Whenever this guy takes the time to record a full length LP, he's got the potential to create a real masterpiece.

Tracks like "Fingerpaint" and "DeeGeeEmBeEs" really showcase Doofy's agile and creative drumming abilities. He is also known as Drew Walker, contributor to one of the tightest rhythm sections I know in his band, The Happy Medium. On this record, he demonstrates that he's also a very skilled guitarist, singer, and manipulator of pedals and various looping devices. However, what's even more impressive is the fact that he can do this sort of thing live, and with what looks like a lot less gear than you might expect.

I look forward to (finally) seeing one of his live shows, and if you take 17 minutes out of your day to listen to this strange, hypnotic and oftentimes hauntingly beautiful album, you certainly will too. - Matt

Mark Aubert "The Escape Tape"

Listen to/Download The Escape Tape

San Fransisco's Mark Aubert makes mind-melting cassette tape trip-hop, essentially making him the lo-fi equivalent of DJ Shadow or RJD2. There, I said it. I can't be any more blunt than that. And if Mr. Aubert's the type who despises being compared to others, I sincerely apologize. But this is one of the highest compliments I can give.

All those weird, fuzzy-eyed, cotton-mouthed feelings I get when I listen to this album are eerily reminiscent of the first time I ever heard Shadow's Endtroducing way back in high school. Simply put, The Escape Tape easily is the chillest trip hop record I've heard since I was 17. OK, perhaps my (admittedly) limited knowledge of the trip hop's genre's back catalog could be considered a bit of a handicap here. Maybe. Who cares. Whatever. I'm just writing the first thing that that comes to the top of my head. Incidentally, listening to The Escape Tape makes me feel like I'm floating out of the top of my head.

For example, tracks like "Outlook" carefully creep into your consciousness and wrap around your brain like a warm, furry caterpillar. The intimate snaps, crackles and pops of the vinyl draw you in, chimes twinkle brightly in your aural peripherals, while looped string-pad samples build and decay, creating a pulsing sensation like some organic, glowing neon heart beating inside an alien womb. This may be a lot of hyperbole to digest, but this relaxing instrumental music certainly encourages the mind to wander.

I mentioned lo-fi earlier... Yes. But it's that most wonderful kind of low fi. Aubert skillfully mixes all his turntable wizardry via battery operated cassette recorders. Every sound, every sample is ever so slightly distorted...so that if you really crank the volume up high, The Escape Tape has potential to knock you on your ass and cause a bad case of couch-lock. Yes, I know I'm making a lot of references to being stoned, but...uh...yeah. Yep.

The Escape Tape is a fantastic listen, and perfect background music for coming down after a long night of raving, or whatever the hell it is you kids do these days. Dim the lights, smoke a bowl and enjoy. -Matt

JANG "Scissor Palace"

Listen to/download Scissor Palace

Recent Phoenix, AZ transplant JANG is one of the most modest musicians I know. I'm not sure if it's due to a bad case of nerves, a self esteem thing, or if he was just raised that way. He's soft spoken, big haired, rather self critical, and in my short time playing in a band with him, he never acted much like a "guitarist" (if you've ever been in a Guitar Center, or know anything at all about rock music, you know the type).

However, if anyone deserves an inflated ego, it's this guy right here. Known to friends/family/Big Brother as Nick Stanifer, he wrote music, played guitar and basically spearheaded the tragically short lived Sacramento glam-prog supergroup known as Order of the Golden Mirror...as well as play on and produce the bombastic aural adventure that is Prism Riot. The fact is, although he doesn't act the least bit like it, JANG may very well be underground experimental rock's next big name.

His latest solo offering, Scissor Palace, certainly does live up to its title. If music can be compared to tangible, physical art, whereas most albums are like paintings or photos, Scissor Palace is like a humongous, wall-spanning mixed-media collage. That's the easiest way to put it. Apparently, these are all bits and pieces of music recorded over the last few years that have been chopped and edited into...well, this. If ever there was an album seemingly designed to be listened to on "shuffle"...

There are 25 tracks here, very few pieces over two minutes in length. To try and describe the album as a whole would be almost futile. There are no genres to fall back on here. This is music for fourth dimensional beings with ADHD. So I'm going to try something new on Informed Conformist and listen to this album track-by-track and try my best to describe what each one brings to mind. Take from it what you will. Oh, and I invite you to listen along!

1. Arrival - Distorted drum fills accompany an angular guitar riff. Sounds like a fanfare. A gong sounds, and we're off.

2. Zeta Reticuli - Driving riff rock gives way to dreamy, bubbly synth and then just kind of ends...

3. Slivery Whine - Programmed drums skitter in some strange meter, while elevator jazz keyboards lay down an alternately soothing synth wash. Then what sounds like a completely random sax/synth melody mixes things up nicely.

4. Drag Them Stones - A 5/8 pattern with some organ and an epic, soaring synth and guitar melody. Then everything kinda freaks out at 38 seconds and ends suddenly (as most of these tracks do).

5. Discordant Prolifics Dustbin - More crazy programmed drums, more soothing keyboard patches, more frantic guitar. Similar to track 3...they may be blood relatives.

6. Altar of Gibraltar - Sounds like an organ and a tape reel having sadomasochistic sex...and then giving birth to a small bundle of cheez-funk.

7. Dig Up Bodies To Sell To Doctors - Aha, our first real "song". Phased out guitar, a cartoon "boing" sound effect and then...a pretty little organ interlude. Drums kick in and everything goes into double time. Sounds like Beethoven on methamphetamine. Song returns and wraps up nicely.

8. I Feel That Mental Breakdown A-Comin' - Scary video game music from the final boss' lair...if performed by a hybrid King Crimson/Frank Zappa supergroup .

9. Mail Order Bride - Grinding, delay soaked programmed drums.

10. Jagged Edges of Shattered Vinyl - Sounds exactly like the title suggests. Intro reminds me a bit of Tom Morello.

11. A Black Cat Throws Salt Over Its Shoulder - A brief drum workout, some tweedling guitar, and then an adorable kitty cat sound. Meow!

12. 28th Dimension - My favorite track. This one's in 7/8, possibly my favorite meter. Sounds like everything is peaceful in the land of the frolicking pixies...until some awful portal to hell opens and a dark shadow castle takes form in the dense, poisonous mist. The pixies warily take note, but continue with their happy party anyway.

13. Thing Of Being - Some of these tracks are hard to describe...this is just one of them. Starts in familiar, frantic territory, but suddenly dissolves into a spacey Eastern groove, reminiscent of The Doors' more psychedelic moments, before it all comes crashing back down on your head.

14. Smoke Break - Another favorite of mine. Out of left field comes a beautiful, layered acoustic melody, accompanied by shakers and bongo drums. Like the title suggests, a breath of fresh air...or a breath of SOMETHING, anyway.

15. Theme For Anvils - A pretty little four-note keyboard melody, reminiscent of the melody to The Symbolick Jews' "I Disappointed My Parents". Not complete plagiarism, but an interesting coincidence.

16. Windfall - More video game music...the intro is straight up Mega Man 2. As usual, this one doesn't sit still for long, and it's over just as you really start to get into it.

17. AYBABTU - Picks up nicely where track 16 ends, and features a really cool warbly piano effect.

18. Who Is Clock Maker? - Clockwork chimes and programmed drums run through some sort of ring modulator setting.

19. Chattering Teeth - This is straight up cowboy music that seems equally inspired by the Wild West as it does 80's pop (I was gonna say equal parts Tortoise and Toto, but it seemed like a stretch). Effective use of mouth harp here, which is an alarmingly underused instrument in modern rock music, if you ask me.

20. Something In My Eye - 8 seconds of cut up babyish vocal samples over a dance-floor beat. Yes.

21. It's Your Funeral, Round Eye - If a gamelan were abducted mid-performance and imprisoned in a floating glass bubble by pixelated aliens from the Space Invaders arcade game, it might sound a little like this.

22. Garbage Man - What sounds like Muzak played over a belching dragon.

23. Twitch of the Panic Nerve - Even more crazy, chopped up sounds...and then what sounds like a UFO revving up for takeoff.

24. Snow Falling On Eyelashes - Equal parts gentle beauty and foreboding darkness, this 3 minute piece sounds like an unused Danny Elfman composition from "Edward Scissorhands", which is really cool. For some reason, reminds me of a snow globe.

25. Soy Bean Rights Activist - The sound of the atoms that make up your brain matter converging together at once and then imploding into nothingness. After 12 seconds, the chaos subsides...and it's over.

So yeah, Scissor Palace is as brilliant as it is completely random. If you weren't compelled to listen along as you read the track-by-track breakdown, I'm not so sure I want to know you. Anyway, this is definitely not the sort of music you'd want to play for your grandmother, unless she did a lot of weird experimental drugs in the early 60's. Grandmothers ARE getting weirder, I suppose...

Personally, I had a great deal of fun listening to JANG's album. It feels a hell of a lot shorter than it really is, probably because it hops around so much and always keeps you guessing. This is definitely one that gets better (and weirder) with each listen, especially if you remember to shuffle the track list. Keep and eye on JANG, friends...and if you do like what you hear, be sure to check out his other albums, they're all refreshingly ambitious. -Matt

Fat Transfer "My Heart, the Cave"

Listen to/download My Heart, the Cave

What if The Residents made a bossa nova record? What if Arto Lindsay were locked in a room with only a tape recorder and a casiotone? Fat Transfer answers these questions and more on her recent bandcamp release, My Heart, the Cave. Drum machines and synths clang and distort against one another in tracks like "Empty Chairs" and "Space", over which a soothing and reassuring voice directs the listener toward the pulsing heart of a woman in love with love.

On both the title track and "The Curse of Sensitivity", this soothing voice is warped (perhaps via Tascam Pitch control) into crooning chipmunks and singing fetuses. What is so striking about the warped voice is it’s ability to transcend its own silliness into something quite heartfelt and endearing upon further listening. What if Bjork released an Alvin and the Chipmunks record?

Seas of synths and lush chords flood songs like "The Boat", and "The Water". These tracks seep even deeper into the psyche thanks to some rather choice samples of what sounds like laughter from a party or a concert, and the sound of running water on the latter. These were actually two of my favorite tracks on the album, leading me to hope that the next album has an aquatic theme.

My Heart, the Cave is an album as enveloping as it is mysterious. I am hard pressed to come up with an album that has transported me to the realm of dreams and fog as effectively as this one has. If you really want to know what it feels like to exist in some one else’s head, I recommend you download this record right away. Why not download her other releases while you’re at it? Weird, intriguing, and more and more rewarding with each listen. -Adam

Denny Denny Breakfast "Glass in Everyone's Tongue"

Listen to/download Glass in Everyone's Tongue

Speaking of music that's nearly impossible to describe...may I present to you Denny Denny Breakfast. Here are the 3 things I know about this guy: his real name is Bob Ladue, he resides in Oakland, and his music is nothing short of mind-blowing.

DDB's newest sonic offering, Glass in Everyone's Tongue, spans so many different genres over the course of even just one song that it makes for a pleasantly disorienting listening experience. Synth basses squelch, programmed drums skitter between headphone channels, and acoustic guitars sparkle through the relative chaos like sunbeams from behind storm clouds.

The most accurate classification I can conjure is "experimental electronic progressive pop", with an emphasis on "progressive". No, not progressive like "prog rock", though there are plenty of twists and turns to be found here. This is progressive in that...well, I've never heard anything like it before. Nothing. Ever.

This is an album that doesn't sit still for more than a minute, yet somehow has a patience and cohesiveness that is usually unheard of in this sort of approach. This album WILL throw you for a loop. Several loops. It is impossible to predict where the music will go next, unless you've listened to the entire thing several times through. Even then, not so much...I'm on my fourth or fifth listen, and I'm still frequently surprised when I hear a short passage I'd completely forgotten about. And unlike many other "indie" bands, where the sum is often far more impressive than the individual parts, it's fairly obvious that Denny/Bob is a very accomplished guitarist and singer...and composer...and producer...and, and, and...

Glass in Everyone's Tongue is certainly a DENSE album, but never feels crowded or claustrophobic. It's a wonder Denny Denny Breakfast is able to pull off so many musical contradictions so well, and that should be a testimony to his brilliant songwriting and arranging.

I really can't recommend this album enough. This is easily one of my favorite albums I've heard in 2010. It's a wonder this guy isn't more well known that he is. This is Album of the Year good, folks. It's only a matter of time before this guy is on the front page of Pitchfork.com (I'd say Rolling Stone, but really, who reads magazines anymore? LOLZERZ). Did I mention this album is FREE? That is both a blessing and an absolute shame.

My ONE complaint about this spectacular album is that I can never again listen to it for the first time. YOU, however, still have the opportunity. Don't squander it. -Matt

The Myonics "Digits"

Buy or listen to Digits

I've been away from this blog for a while. Writing about music is hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a fucking liar who probably just wants to get into your pants. It's easy to be suckered in by a fancy writer, I admit. My undergarments have been breached many a time by the alluring words of music journalists. But how do you write about music, really? Analogies and metaphors get thrown around, but it's damn near impossible to accurately describe MUSIC (or most art, really) on a basic, straightforward level that any human can appreciate.

So here's Digits, the newest EP from our Bay Area buddies The Myonics. How the hell do you describe them? What do you call this music anyway? Words fail. You just want to shut your brain off and enjoy it.

Here are a few words that DO spring to mind: Rocking. Fun. Weird. Catchy. Unique. Genuinely-interesting-and-well-written-songs-played-with-ferocity-and-conviction. OK, so that last word might be a bit much to digest. But read it again and again, until you're curious enough to visit The Myonics' Bandcamp page and pay the $1 (mandatory) donation for this 13-minute masterwork. Or, if you're a starving artist/cheapskate/horrible person like me, you can just stream the damned thing for free. Shhh!

The Myonics (at least the members I've met) are all stand up people with the best of intentions who only want to play some awesome music...for you! Why won't you just shut up and listen? WHY, DAMN IT, WHY?!?!? If the $1 fee turns you off, remember that these people are all human beings too, and they all have their own needs. Singer/guitarist/songwriter Jasper Leach desperately needs to raise funds for a bone marrow transplant. Quonnie Kim needs new special shoes for her amputated stump legs. Tom Meagher's grandmother is being held hostage for ransom. Drummer Brian Davy needs a life-saving haircut. Please, your donation CAN make a difference!

In short, Digits is an adventurous, eclectic little EP that deserves your full attention...RIGHT NOW! -Matt

Classics Revisited: The Beach Boys "Pet Sounds"

Pet Sounds is considered one of the best rock records of the pre-mp3 blog era. Some people might venture to say that Pet Sounds would still hold up and wouldn't be instantly forgotten even if it was released in close proximity to the new Best Coast record. After all, Brian Wilson is generally considered "an insane retard that gets high off of eating his own poop, but nevertheless, knows his way around a theremin and Ampex 8-Track" by most reputable critics. Some publications have even gone so far as to dub Pet Sounds the No Pocky for Kitty of the mid '60s. Some might even call Brian Wilson "The Godfather of the Burgeoning Chillwave/Beachslut Movement" mostly because he was all about using jpegs of cool looking (and possibly stoned) animals for the cover of his albums, and seemed to be all about hangin' out and not doin' shit...which I guess was as novel in 1966 as it is now.

In this review I will seek to find out how Pet Sounds holds up to today's cut-throat indie mp3 blog cycle standards. Is "Sloop John B" better than Neon Indian's "Shoulda Taken Acid With You"? Short answer, "No." Long answer, "No" with a "Maybe." Will the psychedelic sounds of Pet Sounds inevitably go the way of turdgaze, Christian dronewave, dark ska, and luxurycore and be dumped into the mass grave with the other dead rock genres? Or will the style transcend the art form with a "perfect sound forever" and be recognized as timeless; like space-country, crazy-cat-lady indie, Christian screamo, and "bands that sound more-or-less exactly like Jesus and Mary Chain"? I will also try to come to some conclusion on whether or not Brian Wilson was the original chill beach slut or the original hatin' ass beach narc. Which I feel is the crux of a lot of rock criticism. And I know there's an answer.

First of all, any of these songs would be hilarious if they were mashed up with Cam'ron or Project Pat or Uffie. I dunno if Girl Talk or the Hood Internet have done this already (I don't think so), but whoever does this will probably live on forever. On a semi-related note, don't you wonder why people play shit that aren't mashups at their party? It's fucking retarded. Sorry for the vitriol.

But yeah, Pet Sounds. What makes it tick? Why is it good or horrible? The most striking mp3 on this album is the stirring anti-death penalty song, "Wouldn't It Be Nice." I think if more people heard this song, violence and death would come to a screeching halt… maybe they'd sentence criminals to "hang out at the beach and smoke purple kush" instead of making them dig their own grave in the hot sun and shit. The second song is boring as hell and doesn't have any cool stuff happening in it. If you're illegally downloading the album, make sure you delete "You Still Believe in Me" and replace it with a better song that won't put you to sleep..."Get In The Ring" by Guns n Roses or "Another Body Murdered" by Faith No More and Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. (from the Judgement Night soundtrack) are both fantastic substitutes that mesh well with the lyrical and musical themes found here on Pet Sounds. "I'm Waiting For The Day" has a heavy Green Album-era Weezer influence to it which is fine if you like that scene. I wonder if Brian Wilson listened to a lot of 2nd wave emo when he was being a recluse and getting high off of eating his own poop?

"Sloop John B" is sorta like the first chillwave song. And if rumors are to be believed, it took 48 different Apple laptops to make that song. I wonder if annoying girls that wore ironic animal shirts in the mid-60s would play this song way too much? "God Only Knows" is probably the most unnerving moment on them album, as it centers around uncomfortable themes of "loss of innocence" and feelings of "being raped by religion," it sorta throws you into a Comte de Lautreamont-esque surreal nightmare. This song is kinda the stylistic forefather to Marilyn Manson's sublime pocket symphony "Cryptorchid" as well as a lot of later-day Swans stuff. Fun fact! Some occult theorists/aura specialists say that you can actually hear Wilson's soul dissolving like a cube of sugar during some of the earlier recordings of "God Only Knows". But whatever. I've only listened to "I Just Wasn't Made For These Times" once, and it's one of the better songs about using a primitive time travel device to go into the very recent past to cheat the stock market.

What else? The actual song "Pet Sounds" is an instrumental track. Whenever this song is preformed live, Wilson dedicates it to "all the pets around the world living and dead" and then makes the crowd join him in the chant "Hoof and horn, hoof and horn, all that dies shall be reborn. Corn and grain, corn and grain, all that falls shall rise again" It's kinda silly if you actually start to think about it. "Caroline No" is boring grandpa chillwave at its worst, which (ironically) isn't chill at all. And needless to say, I'm not in the mood to sing the praises about the rest of this dying proto glo-fi brachiosaurus.

Recently it seems there's been a groundswell of people I've ran into that think Smile Smiley or whatever is truly superior record. Mostly because of knee-jerk reasons...like people are sick of saying Pet Sounds is so un-fucking-precedented and - plus! - Smiley has songs about eating a shit ton of vegetables out of boredom and hangin' out with supremely fuckable bald babes! But this sentiment smacks of trying-too-hard music criticism and indie snobbery. Like when you ask someone what their favorite Wire record is, and they instantly reply to you "THE SHITTY ONE THAT NO ONE LIKES! NOT EVEN ME."

I appreciate Pet Sounds the way I appreciate George Washington, King Arthur, the Loch Ness Monster or Winston Churchill. In the way that I don't really appreciate it at all. It's like "I get it. You probably did a lot of cool shit 48 million eons ago when no one blogged about anything. I wouldn't be here without all your sweet beachwave parties you threw for the good of the nation or whatever. You probably met a lot of meaningful people and learned 'the ways of trees' from 'the red man' or whatever. I don't care. You're in my sun."

To the central question was Brian a cool dude or a narc? Well, anyone who hides from society and craps their pants all the time and uses tons of superfluous instruments just to be a jerk-off and waste the money of ancient buzz-kills that were probably pressuring him to pump out a hit on the level of "The Entertainer" or "Spoonman" or whatever song was #1 on iTunes at the time, well, anyone who does all of that rad shit will always be cool in my book. What was chill once will always remain chill, right? Unfortunately, no. Nothing chill ever stays. -Willwave

Julian Buttersweets "Nasty's Fort"

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Sacramento's Julian Buttersweets is a sick and sad individual. And so it only follows that his music is both as sweet as is frightening. Nasty's Fort definitely falls more into the frightening side of the spectrum.

While listening to "The Throat Slicer", it's not hard to envision a maniacal blade-wielding demon singing the words, as fat bass, bongos and harmonium bounce from one speaker to the next, and that's just the beginning. What continues is a series of songs so childish and terrifying its safe to say that Julian Buttersweets has finally lost his mind.

The song "Nasty's Fort" comes next and spreads itself across the listener's psyche, evoking a clearing in the woods, with a Residents-esque voice narrating the sad and alarming life of Nasty and his lonely fort. According to the lyric sheet, "nobody visits Nasty's Fort no more" and it's quite clear why this is the case.

"1-2-3-4" is kind of a children's rhyme punctuated by the canned exclamation of "1, 2, 3, 4" being chanted via Casiotone. It's a brief track that segues into the equally disconcerting "Dear Dr. Juice", a mad carnival of a song. Buttersweets, you bastard, when will your mad nightmare end??

From a slim paragraph of album notes comes the instructions, "Listen to it in complete darkness if at all possible." I couldn't agree more! -Adam

Listen to "The Throat Slicer"

Tristan Corrales "Neo Existentialism"

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Hi, my name is Matt, and I am a Nintendo addict...

It began innocently enough...I received a Game Boy on Christmas Day of 1990, if I recall correctly. Now it's 2010, I'm 25 and I've got a small portable console that can and does play more 8 and 16-bit games than even I can possibly comprehend. Most of my days are spent trembling in anticipation of some new Zelda, Mario or Metroid game, like a junkie waiting for a fix (albeit with more manageable withdrawal symptoms). I can get through my days a little easier though, knowing there are others out there like Tristan Corrales that share the same affliction. I really do wish I could tell you I'm getting clean...I wish I tell you that Tristan is my sponsor. The truth is, he has become more like a supplier.

Mr. Corrales is quite adept at creating a virtual landscape of sound, synesthetically producing colorful visions of pixelated bushes and clouds, mid-level checkpoints and princesses in need of saving. Unlike musical contemporaries such as BitShifter or Pixelh8, Tristan's chiptune grooves aren't trying to re-create any sort of dance floor techno or electro vibe. Each song here is unique unto itself, each track the soundtrack to the level of some twisted, long-forgotten Nintendo game that never got a stateside release.

This is heavily nostalgic, happy, energetic chiptune music that doesn't ape any specific genre. It is quite possible Tristan Corrales scores video games for a living, but if he doesn't he most certainly could land a job...back in the early 90's...hmm. Crap. Where's that Game Genie at? -Matt

Listen to "Stroll in the Park With My Best Friends"

Memes "Awww Shucks!"

Download Awww Shucks!

I wanted to call a band "Memes". That's how this all began. I thought it was original and clever, and had a lot of staying power in today's post (present?) YouTube/Digg/4Chan world. Most of all, I thought it would inspire me to get a hip, scene oriented "indie" band together...and perhaps even get laid.

But it was not to be. Myspace graciously informed me that there were at least 200 other bands with some variation on the word "Memes" in their name. Myspace also graciously led me to the page of San Francisco breakbeat/IDM band, also called Memes.

All I can say is this band is worthy of the name. They can have it, and I won't complain. In fact, all other bands calling themselves "Memes" should immediately find new band names. Memes' album Awww Shucks! is (according to Bandcamp) a collection of tracks recorded between 2004 and 2006, finally mastered in 2010. If this is true, and this is the music they were making back 4 -6 years ago, then Memes are already ahead of the curve, miles beyond their musical peers, forging exciting new paths in the electronic/sample-driven music landscape.

Awww Shucks! features some of the most sonically diverse, chill-inducing instrumental music. Most of what you hear (about 90%) are sounds sampled from old vinyl jazz, funk and soul records, which gives the album an instantly timeless vibe and makes what I'm hearing all the more impressive. The artists Memes borrows from aren't rolling over in their graves (if they're even deceased), they're bobbing their heads!

From start to finish, this record is thoroughly enjoyable, stimulating and relaxing. I'm not going to go into any more specifics, you just need to hear it for yourself. I only wish this awesome LP had more eye-grabbing artwork. - Matt

Listen to "Pinochle Sandwich"

Antioquia "My Piano Ate the Front Page of the San Francisco Chronicle"

Download My Piano Ate the Front Page of the San Francisco Chronicle

It's not every day one discovers an album this solid and unique by complete accident, but that's pretty much what happened to me late one night whilst sleeplessly browsing Bandcamp's list of California artists. Intrigued by its lengthy title, I decided to give Antioquia's album a spin (hmm...in the age of digital distribution, is that term even appropriate anymore?).

However, this album may not be for everyone. First of all, it's pretty long (clocking in at just over 76 minutes). Secondly, with songs about the inherent evil and greedy nature of the human species ("Humans Do") and how "The Oakland police budget consumes 43% of the city's general funds" (actual lyrics, "Police Brutality"), Antioqia make no qualms about wearing their sociopolitical badges on their sleeves. In this way, they seem right at home in the Bay Area.

However, the message (however important it may be) is never heavy-handed and never gets in the way of the music, which is EXACTLY what reeled me in here. MPAtFPotSFC is, in short, a whole lot of fun to listen to. The eclectic instrumentation straddles the lines between indie/experimental, Afro beat and jam rock. On many of these tracks, guitars, bass, piano, and percussion join forces in such a way to provide an angular-yet-funky backdrop for singer "Mana" Maddy Streicek's impassioned, soulful wails.

With music so exciting and loose, it's apparent that Antioquia is best experienced shoes off, dancing in the grass at an outdoor summer music festival. I felt strangely out of place, listening to this album on my shitty laptop, sitting alone in my uncomfortably humid bedroom. I kept considering pausing iTunes and relocating myself and my laptop into my back yard and smoking a bowl (using solar beams via magnifying lens, naturally). Perhaps I still will. - Matt

Listen to "High-End Logistics"

Classics Revisited: Nirvana "MTV Unplugged in N.Y."

Revisiting Nirvana's Unplugged in New York album is not like going back and listening to any ordinary old mp3 playlist on iTunes. It's like reviewing a super sad suicide note on iTunes. And this suicide note gets an F... mostly because of the deplorable and shameful way Mr. Cobain conducted his everyday life (he told MTV on multiple occasions that he "hated to feel" and that all grown-ups "should probably die"). This also sucks because the sound(s) to be found on this collection of mp3s are truly horrible and seem to be ripped at an inferior bit-rate.

But it is not without its discreet charm…

Cobain often used production technology to his advantage. Unplugged in New York is the perfect display of how to use the perfect microphone perfectly, for the motive of perfection. His face is neither too close to the microphone or too far away. What's ironic, however, (and I think you'll agree with me on this) is that that same face would be blown off, like, a month later by Courtney Love. Oh yeah, also, me and my girlfriend (who knows very little about music OR politics, sadly enough) agree that the production on this is really good.

On Nirvana's previous effort, Steve Albini made sure that all the negative songs stayed really negative and that most of the songs with sucky parts had at least one part that sounds like a cool Aerosmith song… yeah, this "good Aerosmith part" usually manifests itself at the end of the mp3 so you kinda have to suffer through the incredibly slow-witted and insulting ramblings of Kurt "Look At Me Ya'll" Cobain first. I usually text old friends from Purdue University during these shitty parts because I lost the remote to my iPod dock so I can't fast forward that fucking shit, plus I'm just sort of lethargic in general (I'm still kinda dealing with 9/11, for what it's worth).

I wonder if a lot of people got bored and started texting each other hilarious one-liners at the taping of Unplugged in New York. I wonder if any of the people that went to the show are still alive? I wonder if Nirvana bummed out the audience so much, everyone went straight home to their loved ones to tell them cryptic and grim stuff like, "Sorry dude. I just wasn't made for these times"??

On the flipside of that unsavory thought is the more positive prospect that maybe a cool bro with a Dinosaur Jr shirt met a cool babe with green hair and they did music but never made it big (because they don't give a fuck) but maybe their sound(s) influenced Kimya Dawson and the Juno soundtrack makers, so their sonic fingerprint kinda lives on (as sonic fingerprints are wont to do). Do you think everyone in the audience did drugs with Courtney Love on top of the Empire State Building after the show? Think Love ever felt "the presence of God" when she was high? Why or why not?

So what else is good? I think he covers a couple songs that are probably done by Wire or the Afghan Whigs or the Jayhawks or some shit. That's cool. Oh, and he does an old slavery song, presumably because this was recorded before Vice magazine and horrible Internet humor blogs made it "uncool" to have white guilt.

And those are the "soaring highs" of this vile and disreputable coiled loaf of audio turd. What else happened on this CD? Oh… I dunno. He does a song about how being happy is stupid and it's better to be a degenerate snob that dedicates 75% of his time in the spotlight championing worthless metal bands with diabetic lumberjacks like Tad ("Dumb"). He rips off the general idea of 'Sex Type Thing' by Stone Temple Pilots and makes it a complete snooze-fest ("Polly"). He makes fun of Tonya Harding and the Challenger explosion ("Pennyroyal Tea"). He does a pro-death penalty song ("Lake of Fire"). And he does a song that the worst, most creatively bankrupt and cliche people you could ever imagine would declare as "Kurt Cobain's final goodbye to a stupid world that don't mean shit" ("All Apologies"). That's about it. Bring a book!

There's a reason that groundbreaking and envelope-pushing chillwave artists like Neon Indian don't make retarded unplugged mp3 collections. In fact, if people stopped spazzing out about the burgeoning chillwave/beachslut movement and got back into grunge, I would be seriously bummed… I'd probably get a really short temper and treat my friends with the sort of smug disdain that can only come with the feeling that pop culture has betrayed you (somehow). And you should be similarly appalled, too. Hypothetically. -Willwave

Planet Booty "Planet Booty"

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The members of Planet Booty are destined for fame. Whether or not they can handle the pressures of teeming fans and endless praise (see: Nirvana) is irrelevant at this point. The internet has already been infected with their groove. Now it's only a matter of time.

The brainchild of Bay-Area-brothers Dylan and Nathan Germick, Germart Presents: Planet Booty is an imaginative and emotional journey into the heart and souls of... booty. No really. If you're looking for the last word on booty, you've reached it by the time you stumble upon the album's titular (teehee) track.

Honestly, this album should come with a warning: May Cause Booty Poisoning. I mean, how much booty can one stand? Booty aside, the beats and production on this thing are spectacular! The Germick brothers accomplish what some pop stars waste millions trying to produce.

Like their more successful peers and predecessors (MIA, Lady Gaga and Captain Ahab come to mind), Planet Booty is stylistically all over the map. The strains that tie the album together are the dance beats, booty, soaring vocals, booty, catchy hooks, and booty. And a weird little high pitched voice that shouts things like "My booty's different from yours" (in "Ride that Booty").

Don't pass up the chance to catch these guys live while they're young and hungry (for that booty) and in the meantime be sure to download Germart Presents: Planet Booty! -Adam

Listen to "Ride That Booty"

Prism Riot "Prism Riot"

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Oh wow...I'm lost in a digital jungle full of lurking neon animals and OH SHIT HERE COMES A FUCKING CYBER-WOLF-MONSTER TO RIP MY EARS WIDE OPEN but it's OK...because now I'm floating peacefully in a frosted glass orb through space with my trusty and totally sexy supermodel girlfriend WHEN SUDDENLY A GIANT MUTANT DRAGONFLY APPEARS AND BEGINS TO RAPE MY BRAIN WITH A SWORD COVERED IN POISONOUS SPIDERS...

Perhaps I should explain...Prism Riot is one of the most surprising albums I've heard in a long time. This is one of those rarities that presents the listener with genuine sonic surprises at every turn, and leaves you (at least me) absolutely befuddled as to HOW the hell these two guys managed to produce some of these downright outlandish sounds.

Prism Riot is, from what I gather, a collaborative recording project between Sacramento guitarist/keyboardist/sonic wizard Nick Stanifer (Order of the Golden Mirror) and Michigan drummer/demolitionist Travis Siegfried (Forest Feeling). I'm not sure if these guys have ever played a live show together...and while I would normally argue that they SHOULD, I also have to wonder how the hell they'd pull it off. Honestly, you could take this as a sort of backhanded compliment to the complex sonic structures of these eleven pieces.

When recommending this band to others, allusions to Hella, another well known Sac band, are at times obvious/unavoidable, especially due to Siegfried's hyper-bombastic drumming style. But you know what? I like Siegfried's playing better. In fact, I like Prism Riot's debut a lot more than anything I've heard from previously-mentioned-band.

I know I've avoided talking about any "songs" in particular...but this 28-minute long (short?) LP is best experienced in one sitting. Do yourself a favor and download it. Albums this good aren't often free. -Matt

Listen to "Pirate Utopias"

The Snails "Snail Not Sloth"

Download The Snails - Snail Not Sloth

Something slimy has been lurking beneath the rotted tree trunks and flower pots of San Francisco, slithering out in the dead of night to nibble on all we hold precious.

When Horace Raymond and the Gnarly Cactus dropped their acoustic guitars and sold their souls to the devil something magical happened: The Snails were born. I had the good fortune of being able to catch their first live performance. It was in a small cafe in the Inner Richmond and they were asked to cut it out after like the third song. Considering the sappy sad puppy folk acts they were following, this almost seemed like a compliment - okay guys, we're just trying to bore ourselves to death, can you take your fun, and lively music somewhere else please?

I had no idea they'd even released any recorded material until I stumbled across "snail not sloth" on the interweb. The record opens with "Money", tape hiss Stooge-punk at it's shambling best. Afterward comes the unassumingly titled "Banana". This song is all about getting the most out of 2 chords. This song is all about pummeling your brain into sludge. This song is literally all about "going down the street/to get a banana." Genius. Next, "Cupid's Arrow", an ode to infatuation whose chorus rattles around the brain for weeks after listening.

Shit just gets better and better (listen to "Evil", what a fucking wicked track!) until the record's closer "Please Please Please" sends you back on down the road to that lonely place called your apartment. -Adam

Tony Bonanza "Rockabilly People"

Download Tony Bonanza - Rockabilly People

I awoke... and you were there... behind a veil of blue smoke...

Sacramento's Tony Bonanza feels like the man you wind up with in the hot tub after you realize that all your friends have left. Looks like it's just you and... him. The listening-to-your-neighbors'-music-through-the-walls groove of Rockabilly People's opener, "Santa Ana Nicole" arrives as quickly as it leaves, at this point Tony Bonanza's got the hot tub jets working in overtime as the opening synth washes of "Be My Toy" melt through your speakers.

But Bonanza knows when he's coming on too strong and quickly retreats to that air of mysticism that attracted you in the first place with "Lucky Charms." Help me, Tony! I can't navigate your universe alone. Then he holds your hand, as if out of nowhere, firmly, but relaxed (but not), and gives you a tour of all that could have been in "Threw it Away."

Rockabilly People screams for a tape or vinyl release. The beats are mellow and reassuring; the guitars are Pure Guava-era Ween, heavy on the jazz, and heavy synthage rounds out the mix into one big AM radio mushroom trip. What we have here is a pleasant collection of songs caramelized in phaser and drizzled with enough reverb to fill a concert hall. Excellent work, Tony, now drive me home cause I gotta work at 7 in the morning and if I wake up next to one more sweaty Italian with a lazy eye I'm going to have to recommit myself to Christ. -Adam

Listen to "Threw It Away"

The Myonics "O Africa, Brave Africa!"

Download The Myonics - O Africa, Brave Africa!

When listening to The Myonics on my laptop one evening, I was overcome with the urge to write to songwriter/bandleader Jasper Leach (also formerly of Symbolick Jews) and ask "Have I ever told you how much your voice sounds like John Linnell?" Annoyed, I can only assume, he said "Yeah, you've mentioned that a couple times before".

However, the comparisons between Oakland's The Myonics and Brooklyn's They Might Be Giants end here. Perhaps it's something about familiarity? O Africa, Brave Africa! is, at once, one of the most familiar albums you'll hear this year, as well as one of the freshest.

Musically, The Myonics are a bit scatterbrained here...but in this case, it works really well! The album begins with a slow, growling prelude of sorts with "Cloud Is Lifted", featuring a beautiful melody over minimalist instrumentation (in this case, a lone guitar and viola). "Sweatshop" is a fun, rollicking number that reminds me a bit of Gibby Haynes' solo stuff. "Visibly Wasted" is loud, violent and reckless...the kind of song I'm always hoping doesn't come up next on my iPod playlist when I'm trying to go to sleep.

Then we get to "Matter", which is one of my favorite songs anybody has ever written. Here, Leach's songwriting creeps eerily close to Linnell's, particularly in the song's bridge. This song encapsulates everything that was cool about 90's alternative riff-rock. "Public Death", one of the later tracks, is another great one. It starts with driving guitars and fist-pumping chants from the band...and then everything falls apart in perfect unison, like an old truck falling apart as it drives down the highway. Highly effective musical imagery, whether it was intentional or not.

The Myonics are apparently starting to get some good press, and they put on a really fun show, so don't miss a chance to see them (when I saw them they had two great drummers). Definitely a band to keep an eye on these next couple years...but don't take my word for it. (Apologies to LeVar Burton.) -Matt

Listen to "Matter"

The Symbolick Jews "Confession Time"

Download The Symbolick Jews - Confession Time

The Symbolick Jews are a constantly morphing ensemble of unique musicians, based in San Francisco and fronted by Adam Healton (RMF, Madam Im Adam). Regardless (or perhaps because) of the revolving cast, the Jews have cranked out one hell of a debut album here with Confession Time, and they have been touring up and down the West coast in support of it for good reason!

Simply put, Confession Time rocks. The titular track kicks off the album with a bang. Dual guitars moan and snarl like junkyard dogs, and distorted cymbals crash all around your head like ocean waves. Adam has a lot to say here, and at times it's easy to get caught up in the cacophony of it all and take for granted this man laying out all his insecurities in under two minutes.

The song "Banana" is a fun take on 50's doo-wop, with bassist Alexi Belchere on lead vocals. At times, her voice is a bit too "cute" to effectively sound as angst-y as I assume she meant it to sound, but she brings a fresh angle to the couple songs she sings on this record, and "Banana" is one of the catchier, more unforgettable tracks because of it.

Other songs, "The Book of Love" and "What Does It Mean?" bring things down a notch, but in volume and tempo only. Both are slow but intense pieces that stand out as personal favorites on the album. The former sucks you into a void of undulating static and amp buzz, gently lulling you into a false sense of serenity. The latter brings to mind walking through Golden Gate park on a warm summer evening at sunset, the guitars buzzing around like lazy flies.

This is only beginning to scratch the surface of Confession Time, and I hope you'll download it and listen for yourselves. Fans of shoegaze, garage-rock, psychedelic noise, Velvet Underground, early Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine should definitely check it out! -Matt


Listen to "What Does It Mean?"