Indie and Lo-Fi music reviews

God, I am a pretentious jerk I HATE the fact that I'm giving the one "other than minimally produced" Beat Happening record 5 Stars...but there it is. This record is brilliant. Though I love even the cutesiest Glasgolympia crap, this is another creature entirely: powerful, adult, redeeming. If you've tried other Beat Happening records and had difficulty tuning in, do try this one.

Unlike many bands, the more albums Beat Happening made, the better they got. This is the way it is supposed to be, but unfortunately it doesn't usually happen that way. You Turn Me On, to date the final Beat Happening album, shows a level of maturity that the average listener would have had no right to expect, based on their previous, more fun-oriented, recordings. To start with, the songwriters have all but eschewed the three-minute song, and three tracks exceed six minutes, with "Godsend" topping out at nine.

Jangly guitar starts off "Tiger Trap" with a mellowness that we've not seen before in the Happening. Calvin restrains his signature baritone's usual forcefulness but keeps the loving disposition of yore during the one-line chorus of "when I saw you." This song, along with several others on You Turn Me On, have not one but two (count 'em: two!) guitars playing in harmony. The heavier production from regular producer Steve Fisk (with Stuart Moxham of the influential Young Marble Giants) benefits the band wonderfully, also giving Heather's "Noise" vocals an ethereal quality they lacked previously.

The subject matter has not changed dramatically from Beat Happening's previous releases: there are still the love songs and the death songs, sometimes in the same song. How Calvin connects the idea of a children's DIY race ("Pinebox Derby") into the death dirge of that other "pine box" is a prime example of the creativity that comes from this band, and a major reason that they are one of my favorites. The title track combines love and death in one with its Beatles "Paul is dead"-inspired chorus (reportedly what could be heard while playing the beginning of the White Album's "Revolution #9" backwards). Calvin growls "Turn me on dead man" repeatedly and with an intensity that belies the band's surface innocence. (For more dark songs, see Black Candy and selected songs from the rest of the BH oeuvre.)

During repeated listens of these albums, I have come to appreciate Heather's contributions to the band's mix (it's difficult to know what Bret adds, as his offering is understated). Her You Turn Me On songs are no different. "Sleepy Head" is beach music extraordinaire and "Godsend" is, quite simply, an epic of minimalist proportions. Had Calvin sung "Sleepy Head" (which would normally be expected, since he wrote it), it would be an entirely different song. This way, its inherent sweetness shines through. "Godsend" continues this tack, with lyrics that most folks would love to hear being sung about themselves by the one they love -- idealized portraits of love's rose-colored vision. Despite its extreme length, a shorter running time would not have achieved the same blissful effect. I'll even posit that it could go on for six more minutes will no ill effects. It represents the fruition of Beat Happening's musical progression. They have learned the persuasive power of repetition and are not afraid to use it.

"Teenage Caveman" is a rumbling beat-driven romp, featuring Heather's backing of Calvin on the chorus, that allows the band to truly "rise to the top" while they "trade spit till it hurts." Calvin sings Heather's lyrics on "Hey Day" and this is the first song that really sounds like a song from the 1990s, with its heavy melodic-yet-grinding groove. "Bury the Hammer" is solid as well, but I would have preferred it to be placed somewhere else in the mix. "Hey Day" is the ideal ender for this album.

You Turn Me On is the qualitative hight point of Beat Happening output, showing that much more could have been expected from this Olympia trio, had they the interest to keep it going. In that case, we'll have to stick with what we've been given and see Beat Happening as the epitome of the understandably influential, utterly groundbreaking, never overstated, eros-thanatos indie punk band.

I bought this today really excited to hear new material from mr. Guided By Voices himself, Robert Pollard. Pollard is a hero of mine. I own many GBV cds as well as his Not In My Airforce album and now this. This is ok but really only for completest and die hard fans like myself. I've listened to it twice now and I really like the last two songs on it. Catherine from mid-october being my favorite. Zoom is a nice laid back song that ends the single. The first two songs on this I don't care to much for. And one thing i found anoying is there are sound clips at the end of the two middle songs of Robert Pollard talking to women, one from Germany. I really only recomend this to the die hards that have to have it all and it's a good price too. I wonder if this is a preview of his upcomming solo album that he is either making or will be comming out soon. Anyway it's a decent cd just not a great one. Any newbies wondering where to start for this mans works start with the two albums Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes. Once you have them then pick up Propeller which I believe is the best GBV album.

60's pop perfection and sonic landscapes unheard in this day and age. The title track is unforgettable, unbelievably human and a testament to the pain of the world as it grows.

It's a platitude that Knox's albums, with or without a Tall Dwarf, defy easy distinction given their uniformly high ratio of successes to clunkers. "Yes" starts out on the first five songs in typically strong fashion. I keep hearing Robyn Hitchcock here, which can be frustrating, for he and Knox are nearly exactly parallel in their ages, career-lengths, and influences from earlier music. So, Knox is, I emphasize, not imitating RH or vice-versa. But if you like one, you'd probably like the other.

Knox is as intelligent as Hitchcock but tries less to be clever or whimsical; Knox's delivery tends towards the thoughtful rather than the surreal. This collection leans towards a dense guitar sound recalling Phil Manzanera's processed contributions to early Eno/Roxy Music. Combined with less of a Beatle (both Paul and John) fixation that for me has weakened his songcraft, the emphasis more on early 70s art-rock, from the same roots Hitchcock has shared and expanded, makes for a more focused, intense delivery. The bagpipes on Pibroch work well, and such experimentation adds to the usual accomplished range Knox shows.

The rest of the album's less inspired, but moves along well enough. He sounds happier here--I guess the reason for the record's title--than on other efforts, judging from the lyrics and slightly sunnier style. Predictably if not panderingly, there is the requisite nod to Brian Wilson on one song. The end, however, of track 14 degenerates after an extended silence back into a quarter-hour of goofing around in the studio which does the rest of the album no credit, and lessens the earlier maturity. You know, dealing with Knox's records, that some silliness threatens on the margins, but it shouldn't be allowed to invade the center of the art he frames otherwise nicely here.