Indie and Lo-Fi music reviews

It takes a very brave rock frontman to sing, "I am a happy yellow bumble bee/I fly around the flowers and trees." But Kevin Barnes is not an ordinary frontman. Of Montreal is not an ordinary band. And "The Bedside Drama: A Petite Tragedy" is an extraordinary concept album, both whimsical and poignant.

The album seems to follow a love affair: people being attracted to each other, falling in love and getting that glorious buzz from it, becoming close and comfortable, but ("Only losing something beautiful could make a person feel this way") finally splitting in heartbreak. At first it seems rather sugary, but repeated listens show that it's actually very wrenching.

It opens with a bouncy, buzzy ode called "One of a Very Few of a Kind," followed by the chirrupy "Happy Yellow Bumblebee." The narrator vows "I will be a good boy and never tell you the bad things that I think about." They head to the sensuous "Honeymoon in San Francisco," followed by a string of cutesy little songs that talk about "my panda bear" and "my cutie pie."

But then things go downhill, starting with the poignant "Please Tell Me So." Then he admits, "But sweetheart, incredibly it's true..../that your cutie pie has forgotten what he saw in you," but then pleads with her not to go. The narrative ends with heartbreak, flipping through photographs and nursing his pain.

"Bedside Drama: A Petite Tragedy" is well-named -- it's a tragedy, but a very personal, petite one. Anyone who has ever fallen in love, but had that love fall through, will see a bit of themselves in this album. It's less goofy and more serious than Of Montreal's other albums, and it suits them well.

The music is relatively low on the weirdness scale. It sounds like a blend of the Beatles and Beach Boys -- mellow and sweet. Most of it was guitars and piano, with sweeps of organ, harmonica, tambourines and the occasional horn. But sometimes we get stuff like the representation of the "Couple's First Kiss": party horns, carnival sounds and a sweet music box melody.

Of Montreal's "Bedside Drama: A Petite Tragedy" is overshadowed by other brilliant albums. But this one is psychedelic pop for lovers nursing a broken heart.

I was definitely surprised when I learned that singer-songwriter Karl Blau had never recorded a solo album for K Records prior to his latest release, Beneath Waves. This is because I have felt his presence on so many other artists' releases. Originally, I was introduced to his low-key bass playing with Bret Lunsford (a founding member of the highly influential Beat Happening on vocals and guitar) and Phil Elverum (drums, of course) in their band D+.

His influence has also been greatly felt on all of Elverum's work as The Microphones. Blau played on The Glow, Pt. 2 and there is even a song called "Karl Blau" on its predecessor, It Was Hot, We Stayed in the Water, an album that Blau himself recently rerecorded for his KELP! Monthly subscription series (showing that influence goes both ways). With those, and his guest appearances on albums from Little Wings (Wonderue) and Mirah (Advisory Committee), it just feels like he's been hanging around Dub Narcotic Studios forever.

However, research tells me that his previous solo albums (the last of which was 2001's Clothes Your I's) have all been released on D+ bandmate Lunsford's Knw-Yr-Own label out of Anacortes (the other thriving Washington music mecca). In any case, Blau's newest musical expression, Beneath Waves, is out now on K, and it's mostly brilliant. It seems to have taken Blau quite a long time to put together this album (four years, if my math is correct), but it has been more than worth the wait.

Beneath Waves begins audaciously with its two longest tracks, the seven-and-a-half-minute "Crashing Waves" and the nearly-six-minute "My Johnny." Both are impressive soundscapes involving many varied instruments and multiple melodies. Listening to them multiple times is not only suggested, but also rewarded by further insight into the depth contained within them.

My favorite, "Into the Nada," however, is a more lighthearted offering: a surprising amalgam of Jethro Tull, Van Morrison, and Jimmy Buffett that still manages to sound entirely original. This song goes right into "Notion," a pitch-perfect flashback to early 1990s grunge. Nirvana fans will love it.

Following are two odes. The beautiful "Ode to Ocean" ("There's a part of me that wants to be a part of you ... sandy skin, sandy skin") ends much too quickly. It is also, unfortunately, the last really good song on the album. Of course, this is convenient for the average listener, who can just stop the CD right there, but more passive listeners -- those of us who just like to have the music wash over us while we do something else -- are in for a downslide for the rest of the album.

Blau certainly has a way with a melody -- he has a musical confidence that allows him to combine deliberate dissonance with transcendent melodies, always with a deep sense of rhythm ("Slow Down Joe" is a prime example). The best songs on Beneath Waves ("Crashing Waves," "My Johnny," "Into the Nada") are melodic and often fun, always with a sense that Blau is in complete control of how he wants to be perceived by the listener. They rank up with the best pop music being made today, even with the best coming from K Records.

Unfortunately, the last three tracks are something else entirely. They're uninteresting. "Ode to Lemons" sounds a bit too much like a Microphones retread to make much of an impression (although, as I said above, it's hard to tell who did this kind of "wall of sound accompanied by a light voice" kind of thing first). "Shadow" starts with a meaningless poem, further devolving into something sounding like treacly children's music. And "The Dark, Magical Sea" is a droning bore that should not have been chosen as the last impression of this CD, unless it was intended as a soporific in place of the listener's usual sleeping pill. Three drastic missteps that, while they do not dampen the effect of what came before, certainly bring what was a stratospheric experience back down to ground level. And that's just too bad, because otherwise Beneath Waves would be the first great album of the year.

Of Montreal gets a bit philosophical in "The Bird Who Continues To Eat the Rabbit's Flower," an EP of pensive little dream-acid-folk songs. It's not their best material, but it's a fun diversion of strange little songs about men kissing men, crashing airplanes and spiritual "inner light."

It starts off with "You Are An Airplane," a laid-back little pop tune that announces, "When you crash I want to go down with you/We'll make such a horrible mess." It's followed up by the upbeat "Inner Light," and the bouncy gay anthem "When A Man Is In Love With A Man."

Things become more dramatic in the opener of the repentent "If I Faltered Slightly Twice," which seems to be a final plea for forgiveness. It's followed by by the messy, distorted "Disguises," which ends up being all the more fun because it's so chaotic. Following a couple of ordinary folk-pop tunes is "I Felt Like Smashing My Head Through A Clear Glass Window," a gloriously grumpy little song about smashing things.

Yes, Of Montreal is one of those crazy bands from the Elephant 6 Collective, who range from the mediocre to the insanely genius. This band creeps closer to genius -- they have their dud moments, but the general feel of "The Bird Who Continues To Eat the Rabbit's Flower" is of a playful, pensive little tapestry of sound.

Driving guitar melodies are in the middle of most of these songs, but Of Montreal was obviously spreading its wings at this time, given the warbling distortion of "Disguises." The distortion just drowns out the pop song, but it's mesmerizing. A gentle piano melody starts off "If I Faltered Slightly Twice," and electric organ in the finale is nothing short of glorious.

Kevin Barnes sounds right at home in the middle of all the weirdness, with his offbeat voice sometimes getting buried in the sound ("You Are an Airplane") and sometimes getting to take center stage ("On the Drive Home"). And his songs are nuggets of indiepop brilliance. Sometimes they get too sappy, such as "The Inner Light," but elsewhere he compares a self-destructive pal to a crashing airplane, and says to a lover, "You looked like heaven in bloom."

"The Bird Who Continues To Eat the Rabbit's Flower" was only the second release by Of Montreal, but it's still a great collection of psychedelic indiepop. Definitely worth getting.

I haven't heard them all, which may make me suspect, but I prefer this to the newer stuff which I've heard a little of. This is just back in print, I think, after a while. But this is the first time I'm listening to it. It's quality indie-pop, which gets all stuck up in your head, with all its sweet hooks. And you really have to love lines like, "I want to grab your words and fill them with coffee." Nice. I would check this out.

look I've been on the DIY train for awhile, it's great, but you have to actually move from concept to execution at some point and honestly, this record sails the seas of dead calm boredom--anyone who looks to Wings for influencial inspiration is full of it--face facts, you like the idea more than the reality & in this way you're a proper platonist

The thrift store record bins have all been pillaged by San Francisco's indie set, looking to find the next big thing from days past to inspire their various bedroom music recording projects. Problem is, only the most obvious influences have been extracted. Kelley Stoltz is from the "post"-everything indie generation where music is treated more as an academic exercise rather than the adventurous and spontaneous affair which it is supposed to be. If only songwriting was the focus rather than sound, we would have more interesting music today, and all of those influential records would retain the innocence and dignity they deserve. Below the Branches, which seems to have been written to please the critics at Mojo magazine more than the listener who paid the 15 bucks for the CD, is the type of album you instantly feel that you are supposed to like. It has all the right sounds and influences, yet still lacks the depth you would find from its sources. But this isn't to say people won't like it--the indie crowd has largely been conditioned to listen to the "sound" of a tune rather than the actual song behind it, so it's a mutually beneficial exchange. For the rest of us who want to hear inspired songwriting rather than studio patchworks, I would recommend saving the cash and buying the real thing, if the bins aren't yet completely empty.

Much has been written about how Stoltz's music is a blend of his influences. Many have seen this as an homage, a few detractors have said that Stoltz's music sounds great but lacks the depth of the artists he draw from. Let's think about this for a moment, here's an artist who has just released his third album, that he recorded largely on his own, and people are complaining that it does not compare with albums like LOADED or PET SOUNDS or ABBEY ROAD or THE VILLAGE GREEN PRESERVATION SOCIETY. Of course it does not compare to those albums. NOTHING compares to those albums!

I find this album to be incredibly moving, the happy-go-lucky lyrics sound like they come from a man who has been through the wringer and decided to say "f**k it, I'd rather be happy." The old-timey saloon piano of the song Prank Calls, sums it up just great: Life is going just great but there's always going to be the annoyances of and reminders of the rough times of days gone by, which come in the form of "prank calls" from "an old lover, who ain't gettin' none." the fact that the whole song has a throwaway feel, is all the more impactful. The same goes for The Rabbit Hugged the Hound, not so much an animal rights song nor is it an obvious anti-war song, hell it may be both, but Stoltz plays it off with just the right balance of pathos and wit that makes it feel like an interpretation of a 1950s Warner Brothers cartoon.

Then there's the beautfiul centerpieces of the album, Words which while definitely Velvet Underground influenced, has more heart and emotion than anything Lou Reed has ever conjured from that cold black heart of his and the absolutely gorgeous Summer's Easy Feeling which conjures exactly what the title implies.

Make no mistake, Stoltz may not be crafting albums on par with the best of the Beatles, Beach Boys, Velvet Underground or the Kinks just yet. But the fact that he's even being mentioned in the same breath as these iconic artists should tell you a lot where this guy could be heading.

For all of the talk of his influences, Stoltz is one of the most original, emotionally honest and clever voices out there right now. That fact seems to be getting lost in all the hype, but I suppose it is not easy to sell music these days and it makes sense that record companies have to boil things down to a couple of sentences for people to latch on to.

But do yourself a favor, pick this album up, listen to the man behind the sounds, he is there loud and clear and it is a beautiful sound indeed.