Cloud Nothings’ Attack On Memory, Rife with Anger and Uncertainty

By Nick Schwab

When sifting through Cloud Nothings’ catalogue, remember to tread softly, because you might be treading on the times of your lost years.

Call it the Wonder Years, call it Step By Step, call it My So Called Life, call it what you will, but the question remains … and this album asks: Will these so called “best” times of one’s life amount to nothing but “Wasted Days”?

Much like that epic-length song off their newest album, Attack On Memory, it is not uncommon for anyone to believe that their time on this planet may add up to nothing but regrets and sorrow.

The song contains the refrain: “I know my life’s not going to change/ And I’ll live through all these wasted days/ I never thought I would end up this way/ And I know it’s gonna stay the same/ I thought I would be more than this.”

Upset and up in arms, indeed. Singer and guitarist Dylan Baldi feels that it reflects these times of inner uncertainty, frustration and anguish.

“Wasted Days is about a sense of displacement and confusion that I think a lot of people around my age feel,” describes Baldi. “The album as a whole is pretty much my way of dealing with the lack of direction that I felt in life at the time I was writing it about a year ago.”

However, when hearing this Cleveland, Ohio unit’s prior output, one may be flabbergasted that this once sweet-tuned act threw away their ice cream cones for a bottle of whisky.

“I was sick of playing the same kind of airy, light pop songs over and over, so I wanted to make a change with this record,” explains Baldi. “It’s a lot darker and more aggressive than the previous Cloud Nothings albums.”

Baldi maintains that he was in this mindset of discontent, and also wanted to his sound to progress accordingly.

“That’s just the place I was in when I was writing these lyrics,” he admits. “I wanted to make it clear from the start that the record was a change from our self-titled album.”

Baldi has shown this stylistic change of pace not just in tone, but in sound and even runtime — by placing the two longest songs at the very beginning, he tactfully creates a contradiction at the earliest point.

“If it had started with a poppier song it might have come across as similar to the last record which was pop-based,” he says.

One could say this change in sound is daring. Music fans are not always known to be polite when a band or artist flips the sound that initially drew them to the music in the first place.

Baldi, however, thinks he has mostly dodged the backlash in that regard.

“For the most part I think the fans have carried over to the new record,” he says. “There are a few people who hate it but there are so many more people who like it — and more people showing up to our shows.”

Despite the album being full of Jawbreaker/Nirvana alt-rock outcry, Baldi seems to know that art is one of the best outlets for a release of inner woes.

“I’m not an angry or upset person all the time, but when I happened to need to write lyrics, it’s how I was feeling. It was just my way of dealing with that sentiment,” explains Baldi. “[I] can’t say that I’ve fully worked it out yet, but screaming about it every night helps,” he freely admits.

Baldi notes Jimmy Buffet as an artist that he would like his career to reflect the most … however, like the album’s song “Our Plans,” his eyes are not dilated about the exact future.

“I think we’re going to keep trying new things. Whether the new things sound totally different from Attack On Memory or not remains to be seen,” he said, and then thankfully added a relieving sentiment. “There’s always more to learn, though, which is why we’ll keep making music!”

Cloud Nothings will play at MOTR Pub in Cincinnati on March 22nd and at Outland Live In Columbus, Ohio on April 7th with other dates before and in-between. For more information visit www.myspace.com/cloudnothings.

Reach DCP freelance writer Nick Schwab at NickSchwab@DaytonCityPaper.com.

[Photo: Ryan Manning]

New Albums for a New Season

Benjamin Smith

Let me tell you something, Daytonians: spring is overrated. Sure, I like the idea of rebirth as much as the next guy, but this season is also synonymous with violence, crap weather and terrible fashion. Spring is the lunatic you screw before having a fling with the real thing. Summer is the top, that tropical time of sunshine and Oregon District patios. I know she won’t be here for a few months — June 20, to be exact — yet if you stare at a picture of palm trees and listen to these albums from across the ocean, summer will make her balmy presence felt in premature, subtle ways. Let the leisure begin.

Album: Personality
Artist: Scuba
Label: Hotflush Recordings
Release Date: February 2012
Country: United Kingdom/Germany
Website: www.hotflushrecordings.com
Perfect For: The Cad
Enjoy With: Champagne and Random Sex

The best summer music is often mindless, and tuning in to the new record by Scuba — a.k.a. British DJ/producer and Berlin resident Paul Rose — requires zero mental exertion. There is little of substance here, just energetic Euro-groove optimism. Think urban, not urbane. Indeed, this collection of dance-electronica should serve as slick accompaniment to downtown cocktail hours or long nights of bed-breaking. Soak in the beats peripherally and savor your surroundings, but don’t focus on the monologues, laser blasts, dated synth stabs and vocal samples shipped straight from the C+C Music Factory (other points of reference seem to include Technotronic, Underworld, Faithless, and Jane Fonda workout videos). Poignantly, the most memorable part of Personality is the short, simple, and decidedly piano solo on the last track, “If U Want.” The rest of the record remains vapid and vaguely sexual. Perhaps the title is all too appropriate.

Album: 120 Days II
Artist: 120 Days
Label: Splendour
Release Date: February 2012
Country: Norway
Website: www.myspace.com/120days
Perfect For: The Cosmonaut
Enjoy With: Smoke and Starlight

The Universe is a work of marvelous beauty. Sometimes we forget this — and that we’re a part of it. To correct this perception, I suggest you do the following one July night: drive to a faraway field, get blitzed, lie on the grass, stare at the sea of stars above and listen to 120 Days II. If you don’t end up feeling One with All — or at the very least, a Martian for a moment — then you’re a troglodyte. This is first-class cosmic electro-rock. Opener “Spacedoubt,” the alien love child of Primal Scream and Pink Floyd, launches the album on target, while the surging “Dahle Disco” propels the listener towards retro galaxies of groove. Not every song is a star (“Sleepless Nights #4” ironically sounds like an oblique dream the Kasabian lads had about Syd Barrett), but this four-piece has to be saluted for aiming at the firmament and beyond. If Personality is all about spreading legs, 120 Days II is all about expanding horizons.

Album: I Start To Believe You
Artist: Lola Kite
Label: Excelsior Recordings
Release Date: March 2012
Country: The Netherlands
Website: www.lolakite.com
Perfect For: The Romantic Hipster
Enjoy With: Anchor Steam and Drunk Texting

Summer is infamous for tragically brief romances. The 2004 indie film Love And The Weather presents a fictional one in faux-documentary style: a clone of the lead schlub from Death Cab For Cutie meets a socially-awkward girl with Buddy Holly glasses at the beach. They bond over Lost in Translation, argue about music (he worships Grandaddy, she the Flaming Lips), touch the naughty bits, and ultimately break up. Cue the final words: “Indie nerds can never love.” Actually, Love And The Weather is fictional too. However, if it were real, this miscellany of ‘80s keyboards, drum machines and guitars would be the proper soundtrack, complete with soaring choruses (“Energy Could Be Our Closest Friend”) and blue introspection (“Island Smyland”). Catchy stuff overall.

Album: NZCA/Lines
Artist: NZCA/Lines
Label: Loaf
Release Date: February 2012
Country: United Kingdom
Website: nzca-lines.com
Perfect For: The Funky Anglophile
Enjoy With: Club Drinks and The Economist

First time I heard this album’s opening track, “Compass Points,” I laughed out loud, proclaiming it the worst thing I had ever heard: a Prince jam sung in falsetto by a London paper salesman. Second track “Okinawa Channels” opened my eyes, and behold, I saw clearly that NZCA/Lines — a.k.a. Michael Lovett — had created excellent synth-and-Brit-laced R&B. This is no trivial feat. One common adage in music is that America defines, Britain refines. NZCA/Lines proves the adage correct. Here we have a work that should make Hot Chip envious, New Order proud and Rihanna dance. Forgo the standard Stateside R&B and pop sludge this summer, and give the crisp and refreshing NZCA/Lines a try. If it’s good enough for London, it’s good enough for Dayton. At least, that’s the word on 3rd Street.

Reach DCP freelance writer Benjamin Smith at BenjaminSmith@DaytonCityPaper.com. 

By Jason Webber

Decades after eating Chinese oranges with Suzanne, waxing poetic about torn blue raincoats and predicting a future that is “murder,” 77-years young Leonard Cohen has lived and loved enough for three lifetimes. But his new album Old Ideas proves that the self-described “lazy bastard in a suit” will not be going quietly into the night. Over the span of 10 songs, Cohen wrestles with his eternal demons of faith, redemption and mortality as only he can — with class, grace and his trademark wry humor. After a lifetime of searching and pondering, Cohen still hasn’t decoded the genomes of Love and Woman but he’s not about to cease his quest, as evidenced by bitter ballads like “Crazy To Love You” and “Different Sides.” Only Cohen could write such cryptically endearing lyrics like “The mouse ate the crumb/Then the cat ate the crust/Now they’ve fallen in love/They’re talking in tongues.” Nearly 30 years after he announced he was paying his rent in the Tower of Song, Old Ideas proves that Cohen is no longer a tenant — he is lord and ruler of that mystical property. Because he is Leonard Cohen. And this is what he does.

Once upon a time, in the late ’80s/early ’90s to be exact, there was a magical world called 4AD Records, a mystical land where Pixies, Breeders, Cocteau Twins and other creatures played melodic and dreamy alternative music that touched the souls of millions of misfit listeners. But as the years passed, a dark cloud of mediocrity and banality began suffocating this once-bright world, and people wondered if 4AD would ever shine again. Then, from the darkness came a duo called The Big Pink, and the people rejoiced, for this was a classic 4AD-sounding band that played hazy, goth-tinged soundscapes that made you both dance and think. On their sophomore album Future This, the Big Pink sound like the freshest band in years, even if their style owes more than a debt to their shoegaze forefathers like the Jesus and Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine. Deliciously well-crafted dance numbers like “Hit the Ground (Superman),” and wrist-slitting heartbreakers like “77” make this the perfect album for anyone who’s ever played a Joy Division record after a breakup. Future This transports you to the glorious past of 4AD Records … and damn, does it sound good.

New releases worth a listen

By Benjamin Smith

2012 has ushered in many new things, including this column about new (or relatively new) music. Critics might say that Dayton needs another music column like it needs another economic downturn or weird bar, and perhaps they would be right. But I’ll try to provide at least some value by showcasing notable bands, singers, and albums from beyond the Gem City and these United States. It’s good — even healthy — to gaze past our immediate scenery, and the world is ever-expanding with innovative recordings. But enough of this intro; let the sonic safari begin.

Album: Katerushki
Artist: Doktor Schnitt
Label: Eigen Beheer
Release Date: December 2011
Country: The Netherlands
Website: www.doktorschnitt.com
Possible Soundtrack To: A Film Noir Remake of Communion

If you were to go back to the 1950s and ask the average person on the street to guess what “alien jazz” sounded like, he or she would probably attempt to describe Doktor Schnitt’s second album. The three members of this Rotterdam band all play “electronics,” creating blips and blasts of cosmonaut oddness over their bass, drum, and percussion parts. “8,5” appears to include snippets of a droid busting rhymes at open mic night, and “Verschieber” (rough translation: “to move”) could be the vibration of a metal migraine machine. This is definitely not easy listening. Yet while Katerushki is close to unlistenable at times, it does radiate a whimsical, human spirit. The album’s title is Bulgarian for “playground,” one track is 15 seconds of either hand-clapping or tap-dancing, and about half of its post-rock explorations ultimately lead to hip-shaking. An uneven but unforgettable work.

Album: Ridiculous Wrists
Artist: Boutros Bubba
Label: Narrominded
Release Date: November 2011
Country: The Netherlands
Website: www.narrominded.com/boutros-bubba
Best Enjoyed While Reading: The Book of Revelation

An additional Low Country trio is Boutros Bubba. According to their website, the band’s “fundament of heavy drumming and tight guitar riffs gives way to swaggering drinking music and suspenseful improvisations.” Actually, this claim hits the nail right on the head. Ridiculous Wrists is a jarring, Shellac-ish mess quite catchy in its own peculiar way. The bassist’s name may be Freddie Mercury, but the true star of this album is guitarist/frontman Spoelstra. He can’t sing but he can certainly play in a haphazard fashion: peruse “Fun With Powertools” and  “Green Green Bread of Home” in particular. Then there’s closer “Mid Air,” which brings to mind the epic 1974 battle between Godzilla and Mechagodzilla. Somewhere in Dayton exists a guy with a beard who would do almost anything to see Boutros Bubba perform Ridiculous Wrists at South Park Tavern. This guy has the right priorities. People, we need to make this gig happen.

Album: Renditions
Artist: Slow Moving Millie
Label: Island Records, Universal Records
Release Date: December 2011
Country: United Kingdom
Website: www.myspace.com/slowmovingmillie
Perfect Gift For: Fans of Natalie Merchant, Your Mom

Let’s cross the North Sea now to London, home of actress Amelia Warner—a.k.a. Slow Moving Millie—who recently released her debut album of (mostly) covers of “classics” from the 1980s. Renditions opens with a stark piano-based version of The Smiths’s “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want,” and from here the music may lull you to sleep. Slow Moving Millie is gifted with a pleasant voice, and there are some novel selections, including “Hold Me Now” by the Thompson Twins and Bananarama’s “Love In The First Degree,” but there’s no real substance here. The whole enterprise is a bit puzzling, causing one to wonder: why the hell was this produced? To what purpose? Even more puzzling is that this covers album ends with two original songs. Neither one astonishes. 2012 just started, but Renditions could end up the most pointless record of the year.

Album: Singles (2006–2011)
Artist: The Feeling
Label: UMG, Island Records
Release Date: December 2011
Country: United Kingdom
Website: www.thefeeling.com
Lyric That Sums It Up: “Hey, show some love, you ain’t so tough; come fill my little world right up, right up.”

Also in London we find The Feeling. To be honest, there is nothing remotely “strange” about this five-piece, except for the fact that they’re not huge here in the States. Many Americans love piano-driven pop music, and that is The Feeling’s forte. After three studio albums, the band came out with Singles (2006–2011) this past December. Though they may not be as hungry or calculated as, say, Coldplay—which may explain their lack of Stateside success—singer Dan Gillespie Sells has a great voice, and their compositions retain a degree of Hallmark charm. It beggars belief, but the real standouts on this “best of” are two versions of “Rosé,” a slow and beautiful tune about, uh, rosé wine. Maybe these guys are strange. All in all, ‘tis a quaint collection of silly love songs. Sir Paul McCartney has surely given Singles two big thumbs up; perchance you should too.

Reach DCP freelance writer Benjamin Smith at BenjaminSmith@DaytonCityPaper.com.

Henrique Couto/Legend of Flannel Bear

Yule Be Sorry EP

Sometimes, you can tell all you need to know from looking at an album cover. Like, for instance, this one. Take a long, hard look at this album cover. Seriously – it’s right here. If you consider yourself the kind of person who would look at this particular album cover and say, “this might be pretty good,” please, do not continue reading. Do not stop to think; purchase this album, have yourself a merry little chuckle. However, if you saw something that irked you about the cover of this album – and it could be anything (the font[i], their faces, etc.), it will not be the last time you wince regarding the confusing and largely unmusical Yule Be Sorry EP, a seasonal split album between Henrique Couto and the Legend of Flannel Bear.

Conceivably taking a ‘punk rock’ approach to recording ukulele ‘songs,’ the first three belong to Couto, and he appears to have little or no understanding of ‘pitch,’ ‘key,’ or ‘beat.’ This becomes blatantly evident as soon as the album begins it’s uncaring and boorish onslaught. Obnoxious faux-jingle bells loop without stopping; luckily, Couto eventually does – but not before the songs become more confusing and disorienting, carrying on for what seems like hours. The second guy (responsible for the last three), Flannel Dude, seems to also have trouble obtaining listenable results (which makes me wonder if he’s actually listening to himself), utilizing an extremely strange and self-derivative song structure three times over – all the while oddly (and perhaps predictably?) ignoring his guitar chords completely in regards to vocal melody.

Both of these ‘court jesters’ strive for humorous lyrics and end up falling just a bit short. The neat little Henrique ditty, “We Wish Jew A Merry Christmas,” while not particularly hateful in any lyrical sense, ends up offering a slice of insight into  what these ‘performers’ consider entertaining and/or comical; slightly bewildering misogyny (asking for presents from “bitches”) and your slightly-below average middle school “gross out” humour. None of this proves to be offensive as it retains no biting social commentary nor the outright wit or intelligence to actually hurt anyone’s feelings. The laughs you may have are clearly not intentional.

Yes, I am sorry, but I think that may be the larger point: They’re charging $8 for an album of good intentions (six tracks of them, in fact), and someone (i.e., you, people with poor taste, friends, well-wishers) will buy it. In light of this horrible review[ii], I imagine these two will bemoan the fact that the ‘establishment’ doesn’t ‘get their style’ and that writers for print-media are ‘out-of-touch,’ and then themselves begin to force everyday folks to seek out this criminally misunderstood ‘album’ in order to prove me wrong. This was premeditated, and someone (probably you) let it happen. This is not to say these men are not untalented. I believe in the good of all people, and that everyone has a larger purpose in our terrestrial existence. If Yule Be Sorry is any indication, this is clearly not the correct path for either of these folks. Look – in a day and age when people are famous for being the joke on accident, We, the buying public[iii], will always sniff out those that are trying too hard, and will always reserve the right to call it as such. We demand forced realism, so long as it’s pretty and succinct. We demand fiction, so long as it’s just far enough removed from our own reality that it is no longer squeamish to enjoy. As an artistic concept, this album is neither. There is an upside, however; Yule Be Sorry eventually ends, but nobody’s[iv] laughing with them.

We begin to unravel the social and cultural connotations: Is this the forced outcome of our post-modernist obsession with shameless and unwarranted self-promotion? Are we to accept this as the product of the amalgamation of over sixty years of pop culture readily available at our fingertips? Perhaps, if it were not for the internet, this album would not exist (it has been promoted actively online), and we’ll blame the web instead – or possibly the lack thereof; there is no conceivable reason anyone with this many freely open reference points should be able to produce an album justifiably deserving of a negative review in a local paper. This is not a fun album; this is devastating. One imagines that “Weird” Al Yankovic must now feel the same about this as Zach de la Rocha feels when he listens to Limp Bizkit – an overwhelming sense of guilt for spawning such reprehensible concepts and unintentional hilarity. Does this particular album deserve this many words? No. BUT, if this trend continues, at least someone will be able to say “I told them to stop.” Shape up or ship off. We can vote your albums off the island.

[i] I am perhaps a font snob, and if that seems inconsequential or dubious to the reader, these particular fonts would be the equivalent of a guy who insists ranch dressing on pizza is good while fingering everyone else’s slice. Also, what kind of person needs two Holiday-themed fonts on album that already has Santa hats and a Christmas tree?
[ii] Or perhaps in spite of it.
[iii] And the downloading public.
[iv] Nobody but the aforementioned.

— W.C. Ruffnel

If anyone is interested the album is available at http://ukeordie.bandcamp.com/

The Black Atlantic, Darkling, I Listen

2012, Beep! Beep! Back up the Truck

The Black Atlantic, Darkling, I Listen

Winter rules with dark days and distance. Some spend the reign suffering through holidays, eating carbohydrates, and daydreaming of the summer and sun. Others see a meditative elegance, even a tender type of romantic anticipation, in the season’s space and silence. For these souls, The Black Atlantic’s latest EP — officially released on January 13, but available for preorder at www.theblackatlantic.com — should prove a worthy purchase. Over five short songs, this band from the Netherlands creates sparse and smoldering folk-like music representing the true (and often forgotten) spirit of January: glancing backwards while moving forwards, haunted but hopeful. “The Aftermath (Of This Unfortunate Event)” and “The Flooded Road (Built on Sand)” set the tone in excellent fashion, the later almost passing for a slow Band of Horses number. However, the crowning achievement is the title track: a breaking wave of drums and guitar above which Geert van der Velde sings about memories, promises, intentions, and dreams. Only “An Archer, A Dancer” may fail to inspire, its flutes and lyrics (“You and I are made for this Earth, not for these times”) possibly too twee and sugary for most. Thankfully, closer “Quiet, Humble Man” resumes the moving, yearning mood. And yearning could be the key word in this review, because Darkling, I Listen shines best as music for lovers. Remember: flames still flicker in winter. So pour some wine, grasp your lover’s hand, and have at it, folks. Let the night fall; let the snow fall; let the delicate sounds of this album surround and cover you up.

—Benjamin Smith

[Drunkenstein Records]

Tender Mercy, The Road To Good Intention Is Paved With Hell EP

Tender Mercy’s The Road To Good Intention Is Paved With Hell is an exploratory and experimental record, unlike anything I’ve recently laid ears on. Free of rock cynicism or pompous overproduction, the record emerges as an incredibly personal portrait of former Dayton musician, singer Mark Kramer. Tender Mercy’s “Shame” is both a delicate and fractured song. Kramer’s bare bones delivery is supplemented by resonant piano notes and bleeding guitar; each its own skeletal structure that combines in striking and honest ways. Shadowy and enigmatic, like a figure rocking on the porch during a late night rainstorm, tracks “Prize” and “Expect” are both delicate offerings that unfold slowly and deliberately. Though I wouldn’t peg The Road To Good Intention Is Paved With Hell as alt-country or folk, Tender Mercy’s strength lies is an understated and honest offering that burns with soulfulness and innocence. No track exhibits this phenomenon more than “Drive On,” which is carefully arranged to accent Kramer’s dramatic bleating. If you’re looking for a bloated and indulgent rock record, this isn’t it. Minimalist and heartbreaking? This is your jam.

The record, which features cover art from Dayton artist Don Pendleton, can be previewed and ordered at /tendermercy.bandcamp.com.

-Tim Anderl

2011, Sour Mash

Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds

Life is full of surprises. A few of them are good; many are terrible. To paraphrase Radiohead, sometimes we want no surprises. Noel Gallagher’s first solo album unveils a distinct lack of shock -and thank God. For true Oasis fans, listening to Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds is like sitting in a favorite neighborhood bar, drinking a beer with a friend. No surprises: just the comfortable blend of rhythm guitar, familiar chord progressions, dead-simple melodies, derivative lyrics, and nods to the Beatles and the Kinks that people have come to expect (and mock). “The Death of You and Me” is an offshoot of 2005’s “The Importance of Being Idle,” while “AKA . . . Broken Arrow” stems right from 1995’s “Wonderwall.” Even the dark dance track “AKA . . . What a Life!” appears less than jarring when you remember Gallagher dabbled with the Chemical Brothers back in the day. But the Chief, as he’s called in certain circles, knows what he’s doing and he does it well. When you can write a song like “If I Had a Gun . . .”— obscenely basic but mysteriously moving — you shouldn’t toss out your template to make a reggae record. Some will wonder if Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds scores higher marks than Oasis. Not surprisingly, the answer is no. Who really thought it would? Just as Noel’s steady grip is missed on brother Liam’s Beady Eye album (Different Gear, Still Speeding), Liam’s unpredictable presence is missed here. As the British might say, Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds is as safe as houses. Others could dub it dad rock. The Gallagher brothers need each other to make great music, and I predict they’ll reunite in the future. In the meantime, Oasis nuts have Noel.
Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds will be available at Omega Records at 318 E. Fifth St. in Dayton.

—Benjamin Smith

Split [Chunklet Industries]

Part Chimp / Torche

To celebrate their November U.S. tour together, sludgy English rock band Part Chimp teamed with Florida metal maestros Torche for a limited-edition (500 copies pressed), split 12” record.  For their half of the split, Torche deliver their take on three classics from Dayton hometown heroes Guided By Voices. The pummeling kick drum on Torche’s fuzzed out treatment of GBV’s fist pumper “Exit Flagger” gives the song a welcome shot in the arm.  Torche’s takes on “Postal Blowfish” and “Unleashed! The Large Hearted Boy” don’t veer far from the original treatments, but serve as a “salty salute” to Pollard and company’s more muscular rock songwriting.  For their half of the split, Part Chimp slow the tempo down for grimy and bombastic “Dr. Horse.” A pummeling, solo-heavy cover of Motorhead’s “The Watcher” slaps a big smoky bow on this fantastic package.

The record can be ordered via Chunklet at www.chunklet.com/store and will be available on the bands’ shared November trek to NC, VA, PA, RI, NY, D.C., and GA.

-Tim Anderl