Long Promised Road: My Journey to Brian Wilson

Today is the day my friend Chris and I have been counting down to for months. It’s the day we pack the car and travel to the Great White North to see the greatest composer in the history of American pop music, Brian Wilson, at Massey Hall in Toronto.

To pass the time for the nearly three hour drive across the border, I’ve decided to keep a running diary of our journey to the big T.O. A few things to consider before I start:

1. Chris and I have been Beach Boys disciples basically since we could first register music in our ears. Sure, being fans of a band responsible for songs like “Kokomo” may have not been the most popular choice in this age of rap/hip-hop, instant microwaveable rock, and whatever the heck this is. And yes, perhaps our parents did think we were weird for driving almost 200 miles and across two countries to see a guy that to any rational person may seem a bit insane. But truth be told, to finally get to see the mastermind of the Beach Boys — on what could be his final tour, no less — is a dream come true for Chris and myself. Also, this means that we were able to catch Sir Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson on their supposed final tours in back-to-back years. We’ve had a good run.

2. The fact that one of America’s most iconic songwriters chose to begin what is rumored to be his final tour with nine dates in Canada is...interesting, to say the least.

3. Toronto has long been my favorite city in the world, so much so that I’ve fantasized about living the rest of my adult life there after graduating college. As it just so happens, however, I’ve never actually been to the great city of Toronto. So let’s hope it lives up to my already unrealistic expectations.

Without further adieu, our trip to Toronto:

9:05 a.m.: Our departure time was scheduled for nine o’ clock. With no word from Chris, I give him a call to see where he’s at. He says he’ll be about a half-hour late because his mom hasn’t finished making his lunch for him yet. Keep in mind that Chris is 2o years old. Wow.

9:35 a.m.: With two passports and a fried chicken sandwich carefully prepared by Chris’ mom in tow, we are off and running!

9:40-9:45 a.m.: I fumble around with Chris’ inept Garmin GPS system trying to coax it to do the one thing it was built to do — give directions. According to the Garmin, Canada has been wiped off the map and the bustling state of Wyoming has been put in its vacant spot.

(By the way, this is the same GPS that once took us through the Attica prison complex on the way to Darien Lake one time. Needless to say, I feel very safe in its hands.)

9:50 a.m.: Chris says my note-taking for this diary is making him nervous. He says this to me while we sit in an abandoned Arby’s parking lot, trying in vain to figure out a geographically-confused GPS system. Yeah, he’s the nervous one.

(Today’s GPS guide is Lee, a man with a Madonna-level-of-fake Australian accent who sounds like the kind of creepy guy who’s your waiter EVERY time you go to Outback Steakhouse. I hate that guy.)

10:00 a.m.: After 1 ⅓ gruesome innings, we call down to the bullpen and visit the mound to pull the Garmin. Head hung, Garmin walks slowly off the field and back to the clubhouse showers. Big bucks, but massively disappointing. Garmin is the John Lackey of navigation systems.

Meanwhile, Deep Purple’s “Space Truckin” blares over the PA as the GPS on Chris’ new fancy-pants smart phone warms up on the mound. The old standby Rand McNally atlas is apparently not in the building today.

10:06 a.m.: The GPS on the smart phone is not loading. Lots of hype, but it never really arrived. The Android GPS is the Daisuke Matzusaka of navigation systems.

10:10 a.m.: A perfect opportunity to get directions from the Thruway toll booth attendant is blown when Chris’ pride gets in the way. Shame. She was so pleasant, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if she offered us a fresh batch of peanut brittle.

10:12 a.m.: As Chris dual-wields the Garmin and his smart phone at the same time, he says to me, “You’re watching the road, right? Just tell me if you see any deer.” This prompts me to close my eyes and go to my happy place.

10:16 a.m.: Googling for GPS apps, I stumble upon a snazzy one called “Waze.” According to its description, Waze is a Twitter for maps that builds it locations based on users’ Tweets and Facebook statuses. This may be the nerdiest form of procrastination yielded so far from the veritable cornucopia of social media.

(Waze can also be accessed as a video game that gives you points for driving over imaginary obstacles on your GPS map. Good thing Americans are definitely not distracted behind the wheel these days.)

10:25 a.m.: Still geographically befuddled, we add curse words to our car ride vernacular.

10:32 a.m.: Mapquest may be our savior. In other news, a clearly agitated Chris has threatened to throw all of my writing utensils out the car window. He’s not totally sold on this diary idea.

10:38 a.m.: Before he left the house this morning, Chris decided that the most effective car charger for his phone was something that resembles a black box. We’re also hearing rumors about this thing called the Internet, but we’re not sold on it yet.

10:46 a.m.: Our old math teacher Mr. Young would be so proud of us! We googled the GPS coordinates for Massey Hall and finally awoke Lee from his long slumber. Call us geocachers, if you will.

10:50 a.m.: Now that we know where the heck we are, we put on Brian Wilson’s 2004 version of Smile and try to relax.

Now, the legends, myths, and failures of the Smile project have basically been beaten to death at this point (by writers including myself. Ugh.). So too has Wilson’s depression, nervous breakdown, drug use, and weight gains that spiraled out of control following that project’s failure.

It is unfortunate that Wilson is now known as much for his infamous reclusiveness in the 1970’s and 80’s as much as the beautiful music he wrote when he was at the peak of his powers in the mid-1960’s. Luckily, however, things have seemed to turn around for him in the past decade. He got over his stage fright by finally performing again and exhausted a lot of demons by finally releasing (a somewhat refurbished) Smile in 2004.

What’s more, it almost seems that somehow it’s sort of cool to listen to the Beach Boys now, thanks to the hipster community and Wilson’s ever-growing influence on independent music bands.

But even with all that Wilson has going for him now, he’s still the biggest wildcard that I may ever see at a concert. That’s because there’s still that element that you never quite know when he may have a terrible flashback to his troubled past and simply walk off the stage, never to be seen again. All it would take is one bad daydream or a fan bringing up the wrong memory to convince him that he should have never come back out into the limelight. This is why I couldn’t be certain I was going to see him in concert until I actually saw him walk out on the stage. You just never know with Brian.

10:57 a.m.: Just passed a giant rock quarry near Lockport, otherwise known as “The Grand Canyon of Erie County.” Yes, listening to Smile does make me throw out irrational hyperboles from time to time.

11:01 a.m.: Paid $2.75 just for the right to drive our car past a toll both window. Ouch.

11:10 a.m.: We drive by Buffalo’s infamous “Golf Dome.” Only in Western New York’s horrible weather would one feel the need to build a giant inflatable dome to house an old man’s sport.

11:15 a.m.: Big blue bridge!

11:22 a.m.: Another big blue bridge!

11:26 a.m.: Being near Niagara Falls prompts a discussion about people who go over the falls in those tiny barrels, which eventually leads to discussion on paralysis and then suicide scenarios. I won’t go into any more details, but let it be known that this wasn’t our proudest moment.

11:28 a.m.: It can’t be a coincidence that “Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow” (a song that disturbed Brian Wilson so deeply that it’s thought to be one of the reasons he shelved the Smile project) is playing on the car stereo while we discuss said death scenarios. I’m a little freaked out.

11:30 a.m.: Customs! We’ll now take a short ten-minute break.

11:41 a.m.: While we wait at the border, Chris and I debate the most suspicious songs that we could blast on the stereo when pulling up to meet the customs officer. His choice: “Kim” by Eminem (careful: language!). My choice: “Puff the Magic Dragon” by Peter, Paul and Mary with the windows clouded up (or any Dave Matthews Band song, for that matter.)

11:42 a.m.: Forgot to take off my shades. Got yelled at by the customs officer. I blew it.

11:46 a.m.: Ladies and gentlemen, the metric system! Our chances of getting a speeding ticket increase by...hold on...I have to figure out the conversions first.

11:47 a.m.: Apparently going over the speed limit in Canada leads to something called “vehicle seizure.” Great.

11:54 a.m.: To paraphase Chris’ phone and its explanation that it is now roaming (in Snooki’s voice): “I’m in Ontario...betch!”

11:59 a.m.: Chris and I debate the merits of Summer Days (And Summer Nights!) vs. Today!. My take: I say there’s too much Mike Love on Summer Days, while Today! remains a great snapshot of Brian’s transition from writing goofy surf songs to crafting serious pop standards on albums like Pet Sounds and Sunflower. Put it this way, Summer Days has songs like “Amusement Parks U.S.A.” while Today! has songs like “I’m So Young.” ‘Nuff said.

12:07 p.m.: In my opinion, “Help Me, Ronda” without an ‘H’ is better than “Help Me, Rhonda” with an ‘H’. Less is more.

12:11 p.m.: Now approaching Hamilton, home of the Ti-Cats! Me-ow.

12:20 p.m.: The unintentional (or is it intentional?) comedy of http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJQ561LzGX4 is off the charts. No wonder people think I’m weird for liking Brian Wilson.

12:23 p.m.: The city of Burlington looks a lot like Canada’s version of South Beach. Unfortunately, we will not be taking our talents there today.

12:27 p.m.: With time for one more Beach Boys album before we hit Toronto’s city limits, I put on Today! We’re rolling now.

(FYI: Today! has a side one that could go head-to-head with any other Beach Boys record.)

12:32 p.m.: No offense, Canada, but you look a lot like Upstate New York — just with a few maple leaves mixed in.

12:35 p.m.: Feeling adventurous, we decide to try out the carpool lane for the very first time. No traffic, sunnier skies, and shockingly cleaner air to breathe. I think I even spotted a carpool lane-exclusive bidet. We’re never going back.

Chris: “I feel like I could just stay in this lane and live here forever. Is that weird?”

Me: “Not at all!”

12:38 p.m.: Right when were getting cozy, the carpool lane ends. Just our luck.

12:43 p.m.: “I’m So Young” is playing. Excuse me for a few minutes as a I secretly shed a tear behind by shades.

12:45 p.m.: Lee the GPS guide has not been heard from for over an hour, which prompts Chris to tell me, “I really have no confidence that we will drive through Toronto and make it out alive.” All right then.

12:52 p.m.: We enter Toronto!...And miss an exit. Oh boy.

1:00 p.m.: Why aren’t lawn advertisements a bigger thing in America?

1:08 p.m.: The hotels on the outskirts of Toronto are ridiculously immaculate. By the way, Chris just informed me that our fate lies completely in the hands of Lee the GPS voice. I think I’ll just close my eyes until we get to the parking lot.

1:12 p.m.: Chris shuts off the GPS in frustration, then realizes that it’s our only remaining lifeline in the city and quickly scrambles to turn it back on. He apologizes profusely to Lee.

1:13-1:52 p.m.: Tense, frantic driving around the city. Highlights included cutting across three lanes of traffic to turn into a gas station to ask for directions, as well as the mind-blowing size of the Skydome when seen in person. That colossus impressed me even more than its neighbor the CN Tower.

1:53 p.m.: After a long summer’s nap, Lee the GPS guide awakens with a vengeance and leads us to the Promised Land (also known as the parking lot at St. Michael’s hospital)! It’s like the Miami Heat mounting a fourth-quarter comeback behind Dwayne Wade only to have Lebron James come out of nowhere and hit the game-winning shot!

Yeah, it was that improbable.

2:05 p.m.: Lunch at the St. Michael’s park — the first park I’ve been to where old men actually play chess.

This diary is already way too long, so I’ll sum up the details on the rest of our day. We walked around aimlessly for pretty much the rest of the day searching for record shops and Canadian novelties. The highlight for me was Canada’s Walk of Fame, which included legends like Burton Cummings, Captain Kirk, Mr. Know-It-All (Alex trebek), and of course, the best Canadian band ever, Rush. I looked in vain for Gordon Lightfoot, but apparently the Edmund Fitzgerald was nowhere to be found.

Brian’s show exceeded all our expectations. Paul McCartney called Brian’s band “the best touring band in the world”, and he wasn’t necessarily wrong. Their harmonies were tight — coming as close as can be to the 60’s Beach Boys — and Brian can definitely still carry a tune. He sounded even more confident when he belted out George Gershwin’s songs than when he sang his own songs, ironically.

Brian did in fact randomly walk off the stage, confirming my worst fears, but as it turns out it was only for the intermission. While we were slightly taken aback at the thought of halftime, it did set up for an entertaining scenario at the Massey Hall bar.

Chris and I had talked about taking advantage of Canada’s lowered drinking age while we were in town, but when the moment came we of course turned it into a big game of chicken. We had no idea what to order once we actually got up to the bartender, and so to avoid looking like damn fools we almost pulled out.

Once we finally manned up and ordered the brews, it was of course time for the second half of the show to start. So Chris and I forced were forced to put on lids and sip our beers threw a straw like a kid with his first soda at McDonalds. It was certainly one of the more sobering and embarrassing moments I’ve had in recent memory. But at least the beer was pretty good.

Just as we had hoped, Brian had his full repertoire of awkward hand motions working, along with a bunch of great one-liners, including:

“I’ve written about 550 songs in my career, but right now we’re going to play the first one I ever wrote!”

“Do you want us to stay and keep playing?” - This was no more than fifteen minutes into the show.

“Jeffery, could you sing a song for me? Could you sing ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice’?” - Can you imagine if Brian Wilson just casually asked you to sing that song for him?

There was also a moment in the show when Brian sang “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” and had the audience sing along. This was obviously awkward for everyone involved — including Brian’s band, who looked like even they were caught off guard. Then, suddenly, Brian cut everybody off and said, “Great job, everybody!” and moved on to the next song without thinking twice. It was so distinctly Brian Wilson that all we could do in the audience was laugh it of and enjoy the moment. So what if we had to endure a little weirdness to enjoy some great tunes?

When Chris and I return to Massey Hall to see Fleet Foxes next month, we’ll hopefully no longer be hosers but instead Toronto regulars. I’m certain that there won’t be nearly as much anxiety going into that trip about how to get there or about the mental state of the performer (Robin Pecknold seems to have his head squarely situated on his shoulders) as there was for this one.

Our next trip may be more carefree, but it probably won’t match the wonder and spontaneity that is Mr. Brian Wilson.

Music Review: Travellers In Space and Time by The Apples in Stereo

The Apples In Stereo are back - and it could be said that they are better than ever. In 2007, we saw the Elephant 6 indie gods release New Magnetic Wonder, an epic 24-track album that I assumed would be the height of their powers. Frontman Robert Schneider had molded his utter brilliance for sonic psychedelia and melody into intuitive pop songs that were so good that it seemed you had already knew them for years. For their next project, Travellers in Space and Time, the Apples achieve something that was seemingly impossible: they have made disco cool again.

Schneider and The Apples in Stereo have always been classified as having a faint Jeff Lynne/ELO influence, but on Travellers they embrace that comparison and re-ignite the qualities that made the Light Orchestra so darn fun to listen to back in the day (hell, the intro to "Dignified Dignitary" is practically a dead ringer for the iconic opening to ELO's "Do Ya"). The songs are infused with driving dance beats, swirling string pieces, and the trademark childish wonder of Schneider's vocals. Set in a futuristic setting where music is ruled by vocoders and synths, Travellers is more like a back to the future gem. True to Apples in Stereo form, this album makes it fun to be a little geeky and unapologetically poppy to the very end.

The most noticeable thing when I began listening to Travellers is how seemingly effortless it is for the band to emit perfectly fun and upbeat pop songs. If there is a formula for writing a pop song, these guys have either discovered it or they were the ones who created the formula themselves. After a brief futuristic narration a la Fun Trick Noisemaker, the album jumps right into a bubbling song called "Dream About the Future" which is very similar to New Magnetic Wonder's opener, "Can You Feel It?" but with a much more distinct dance feel to it. If you were detecting disco, all questions are answered on "Hey Elevator", which is dripping with synthesizer overlays and electronic drum. Next comes a vocoder segue called "Strange Solar System" that will sound familiar to Apples fans which leads into one of the jewels of the album, "Dance Floor". There is no hidden meaning in the title - it is pure, unblemished disco presented masterfully by Schneider, who it seems to me like he was destined to rule the dance clubs all along after I listened to this song.

Just because the Apples in Stereo have embraced disco, doesn't mean they have ditched their roots, however. Tracks like "C.P.U", "No One In The World", and "It's All Right" show off their winning equation of sonic guitar + quirky melody = awesome pop - though "It's All Right" features an interesting back-and-forth tussle between classic Apples and disco Apples. Furthermore, Travellers never really loses steam in its second half, and for a 16-track album it's essential that it changes pace a little bit. The Apples accomplish this by featuring some great contributions of new band members John Dufilho (formerly of The Deathray Davies) and Bill Doss (of Olivia Tremor Control fame). It's last great track is "Nobody But You", a final ode to Lynne and ELO as it parallels their timeless "Evil Woman".

It's clear that the Apples in Stereo are still on top of the game and have reached the point where they can change genres without losing quality or accessibility. Robert Schneider is in the most prolific songwriting period of his career, and I hope that there's more material waiting in the pipeline to delight my ear buds for the very near future.

Music Review: Teen Dream by Beach House

Note: This review will be appearing in the February edition of the Bulldog Bulletin

As the new decade began there was one album that seemed to be on everyone’s watch list for 2010. Beach House’s Teen Dream has defied the odds by fulfilling every bit of the hype it received – and then some. This album is a masterpiece of subtlety filled with dreamy hooks and intoxicating melodies, all while still retaining a very minimalist feel to it. In the same vein as Grizzly Bear’s Veckatimest, a band with which Beach House is close buddies with not so coincidentally, Teen Dream becomes more intricate and intriguing upon each listen as its psychedelic waves of sound engulf you completely for a full forty-nine minutes.
For their third album, Beach House – a highly respected but relatively little-known band prior to now – opened up their sound completely in contrast to their second album Devotion. When comparing the two albums it almost sounds like the sound mixer turned the volume up about 5 notches for Teen Dream. Part of this must certainly be due to the new locale for Dream’s recording – band members Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally rented out a cathedral in Upstate New York and it adds a lot of atmosphere to their sound. The instruments themselves are hardly grandiose however; as Scally employs a cheap drum machine and old synthesizer throughout much of the album. Legrand’s voice (compared often to Nico of Velvet Underground fame) positively soars above each track so that the contrast between her vocals on Dream and her extreme nonchalance from the band’s first two albums is remarkable. Legrand and Scally step out of the shadows on this album to provide a much more appealing pop-friendly sound that still is firmly rooted in the band’s signature dreamy ambience and desolate nature.
The first three tracks of Teen Dream run a clinic on how to introduce an album. “Zebra” starts with a deliberate repeating guitar intro, joined with driving cymbals and kick drum. Wispy “aaaahs” follow until it is all finally joined by Legrand’s robust vocals. Its chorus proudly proclaims, “Any way you run, you run before us/Black and white horse arching among us!” as the hooks welcome you into the experience. The next track, “Silver Soul”, is a psychedelic fuzz suite that just emanates the word “cool”. It’s molasses thick with a masterful fuzz guitar, holy organ chords, and smooth half-time drums. Legrand repeatedly cries out, “It is happening again!” adding a frantic undertone to such a hypnotic and laid-back song. “Silver Soul” fades out into lingering chords from the organ that ring throughout the cathedral until finally resolving into the album’s showcase track “Norway”. This track is most likely unlike any song you’ve ever heard, and in turn the sense of discovery and wonder that it gives to the listener for the first time is invariably what gives it such a strong appeal. The synth slides in and out of tune unpredictably throughout the song – almost sounding like the thing is broken – until you realize that Legrand’s vocals are matching the synth’s warbles and slides and it instantly becomes unbelievably cool. “Norway” is out to a quick start for my top song of 2010 (and we’re only through February), and it’s going to take something really special to knock it off its perch.
Thankfully, the rest of Teen Dream never sags after those first three songs as every track is instantly re-listenable at any time. It’s hard to imagine another album matching Teen Dream’s strength from the first song to the last and although it’s a bit early to make proclamations I wouldn’t be surprised to find this album still sitting at the top of my list at the end of the year. Expect big things from Beach House in the future…really big things.

Music Review: Contra by Vampire Weekend

Note: This review will be appearing in the February edition of the Bulldog Bulletin

On January 12, the vaunted prep rock band Vampire Weekend released their second full-length album, Contra, after months of anticipation. Its chart success exceeded nearly everyone’s already sky high expectations as it became just the 12th indie album to reach number one on the Billboard Hot 200, joining the exclusive company of bands like Radiohead and Pearl Jam. Now that Vampire Weekend is firmly entrenched in the national consciousness it is imperative that they stay fresh and innovative going forward to avoid becoming just a fad and judging from Contra it appears that they are trying to do just that.
Vampire Weekend burst onto the scene in 2008 with their exciting self-titled debut and quickly set fire to the indie world. Critics praised the band for their remarkably clean instrumentation and clever high-brow campus lyrics. My impressions from their first album was that the band was undeniably catchy and sounded like the most professional and intelligent garage band that one could imagine. If Vampire Weekend did have a flaw – and it was a rather minor flaw, mind you – it was that when you thought about the album in retrospect many of its songs appeared to have very similar structures and sounded very much the same. I think the band was very aware of this because there is a clear effort on Contra to branch out and experiment a bit to keep their creative juices flowing and keep from going stale. There are many more violin interludes paired with African rhythms on songs like “Run” and “Horchata”, they sample M.I.A. on “Diplomat’s Son”, and even experiment with auto tune (very risky when dealing with a purist indie following) on “California English, Pt. 1”. These experiments all succeed and add another dimension to Vampire’s catalogue. However, other experiments miss the mark – “Giving Up the Gun” leans way too far towards pop and sounds unnatural when placed with the other songs on the album and the finale “I Think Ur a Contra” plods on for too long without building to any memorable climax.
While looking to the future Vampire Weekend has certainly not forgotten what gimmicks brought them fame in the first place. Their clever lyrics are once again shown off in “Horchata” as singer Ezra Koenig begins the album by rhyming “horchata” with “balaclava”. They also prove that they can still rock faster than almost anyone out there with the frenetic lead single “Cousins”. They still keep the tone relatively light and simple and still make playing complex music sound effortless.
Ultimately, Contra falls short of Vampire Weekend’s debut for me in large part because it feels a little less complete than its predecessor. Still, this album was crucial for the band in order to keep their options open and keep the public guessing as to what they’ll come up with next. We will probably look back at Contra as the point where they went national and where they started growing creatively.

Music Review: The BQE - Sufjan Stevens

Note: This review will be appearing in the December edition of the Bulldog Bulletin

Have you ever taken the time to wonder what makes geniuses the way they are? The DNA of every human being is nearly the exact same as every other human, so what sets them apart? Which chromosome did Einstein have that helped him discover relativity first, and what made Picasso see things the way that he did? How was Billy Shakespeare able to put into words basically every story that we could ever experience and why was Isaac Newton the first one to discover why apples were always falling on people’s noggins? What makes these extraordinary people tick?
While we may never be able to fully answer that question, The BQE by singer/songwriter/composer/geographer/cinematographer extraordinaire Sufjan Stevens may have given us our best clue to date. This is because listening to The BQE is probably the closest thing we will ever get to hearing what goes on inside of a genius’ head.
Those who have listened to the music of Sufjan Stevens can instantly recognize his work because it carries melodies of epic proportions, yet they are delivered in the most subtle and beautiful of ways. After four tantalizingly long years since the release of Illinois, the second installment of his more than ambitious fifty states project, Sufjan finally released his new project called The BQE which is a classical soundtrack to footage of the dubious Brooklyn-Queens Expressway that he shot himself with a 16mm camera. The suite is comprised of seven movements, complete with preludes and postludes. He presented the footage with a live orchestra for three sold out nights at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Yes, to summarize this is a banjo-wielding folk singer composing a forty-minute classical suite set to home video footage of an infamously monotonous expressway – and this is only a microcosm of Stevens’ ambition. Just for kicks, the LP comes with a forty page color comic book written by (guess who) Sufjan Stevens.
Despite the depressing subject matter the soundtrack itself is pretty much the complete opposite. “It’s an ugly, monolithic source of traffic and pollution and the object of scorn. So I decided to go the other way and recreate the BQE as I would have imagined it, which is as an object of beauty and perpetual motion and reflections and lights and colors. But it’s a complete fabrication; the beautification of a monumental beast,” says Stevens. The music is constantly in motion, swirling and racing around the outer highways and overpasses of your mind. Starting with “Prelude On The Esplanade”, you’re transported to the guardrails of the asphalt splendor and let into Stevens’ idea of the perfect highway. You don’t need to even see the film to imagine Sufjan’s vision because it so easily replicates the hustle and bustle of New York. Yet, as a whole, The BQE could easily serve as the soundtrack of the classic movies of Jimmy Stewart or Cary Grant, or even to the silent films that were never given the luxury of sound and music. Its themes are truly universal.
After discovering the magnificence of Sufjan Stevens with the help of my good friend (and my Monthly Music Review predecessor) Chris Hooker and then in turn digesting every note of Seven Swans, Michigan, and Illinoise, I was still left wondering why I was so attracted to the music and why it was so addictive. What was it about these songs that made me keep coming back to them whenever I had the opportunity? What made them work so well? I found my answer in The BQE – and whether this is what Sufjan intended for I’m not quite sure. The fluttering woodwinds and repeating horn riffs from Illinois are found here, and so are the mournful melodies from Michigan and Seven Swans. All of the aspects of his prior works come together in this masterpiece, forming a musical story of epic proportions. I’m not afraid to proclaim The BQE on the same levels as the works of Gershwin; it leaves me speechless at its conclusion the same way as “Rhapsody in Blue”. All this from a first-time composer who just months ago was questioning why he still made music? Simply incredible.
The BQE solidifies in my mind why right now Sufjan Stevens is head and shoulders above everyone else in the music industry as far as creativity and musical prowess are concerned. He is constantly challenging himself to do entirely new projects – rumor has it that he wants to an instrumental album that “evokes insomnia” – and reaches parts of the human soul with his music that no one else even knew existed. I will cherish The BQE in my album collection for a long time simply because it gave me a glimpse, if only a partial one perhaps, at what kind of music flows within the mind of a genius.

Music Review: Veckatimest - Grizzly Bear

Note: This review will be appearing in the November edition of the Bulldog Bulletin

Okay…maybe I did discover Grizzly Bear a few months ago and have subsequently already listened to their latest release, Veckatimest, so many times that it already has its sights set on assaulting my iPod’s “Top Played” playlist. But this album is so good that I felt that I absolutely had to write a review and give Veckatimest its props. Released last May, Veckatimest has vaulted Grizzly Bear to one the darlings of indie rock and to the forefront of the so-called “folk revival”. This album is a big step up from their last album, Yellow House – which was formidable in its own right, and has to be considered one of the top releases of 2009.

Upon first listen of Veckatimest, you’re hit with the album’s two standout tracks “Two Weeks” and “While You Wait for the Others”. “Two Weeks”, quite simply, is a pop music masterpiece. It starts with a bouncy, power-lollipop keyboard intro for the sweetest of the musical sweet-tooth and then is joined by Edward Droste’s soaring falsetto and incredible four part harmony hooks from the rest of the band. “Two Weeks” should be considered a landmark in indie music for many years to come. Meanwhile, “While You Wait for the Others” is in my opinion for singer Daniel Rossen what “Something” was for George Harrison, a signature song for Rossen to establish himself as the co-leader of the band and prove his incredible talent as a singer/songwriter. A biting narrative that doesn’t look back on what might’ve been, “While You Wait” features perhaps the best harmonies of this decade – and that’s not an exaggeration. The voices of Droste and Rossen, along with bassist Chris Taylor and drummer Christopher Bear, fit together in a perfect mosaic, blending into one powerful voice that dips and soars with ease. The teasing suspension by Droste before each time the harmony resolves will leave the tune stuck in your head for hours, but you’ll enjoy every minute that it’s up there.

Despite possessing these two standouts, Veckatimest should be listened to from start to finish in order to appreciate the full mastery put on display. For most of the album, Grizzly Bear put down the acoustic guitars and banjos from Yellow House and picked up strings, xylophones, bells, and even vocal choirs to give Veckatimest a much fuller sound. The instruments and vocals are beautifully layered and balanced, and it is obvious that there were many hours spent in the studio to perfect the album to its final product.

I thought that Veckatimest’s major appeal is the amount of experimentation that it has and how nearly every one of its experiments turned out successfully. “Southern Point” is an acoustic flight that never really takes its foot off the gas, and works as a great opener for the album “All We Ask” is a great call-and-answer that features the disparaged musings of Droste followed by the ghostly reassurance of Rossen which almost seems to smile. “Cheerleader” features a great bass line, while “Ready, Able” could carry one of the next Twilight films (and be much more intriguing than the actual plot of the movie).

This is to not to say that Veckatimest does not have a few misfires – in other words, no it is not perfect. “Dory” is a bit aimless and too abstract, while “About Face” and “Hold Still” tend to drag, especially when compared – perhaps unfairly – to “While You Wait” which immediately follows. Still, you have to respect Grizzly Bear’s effort on these tracks to break away from the cookie-cutter mold of tension and release.

The ending of Veckatimest is what will really stick with you. Starting with “While You Wait” the final three songs of the album has the immense power that reminds me at least somewhat of the feeling you get after finishing Abbey Road or Sgt. Pepper, where you sit motionless for a second after the final chord and think to yourself, “Wow, was that epic!” “I Live With You” is magnificent, containing the signature Grizzly Bear chill with anvil-heavy guitar pounding that will rattle your eardrums – all building into a crescendo until releasing to the solemn piano notes of “Foreground”. Veckatimest’s final track is a stark contrast to the previous song, scaling back while lamenting of a frustrating routine until finishing with an angelic choir and string arrangement.

An unfortunate result of creating this masterpiece is that Grizzly Bear might never be able to match this level again – and this is only their third studio LP. Veckatimest will most likely be the record that defines the band, similar to IV for Led Zeppelin and Joshua Tree for U2. It’s going to be fun to see Grizzly Bear try to perfect the wheel though, and secretly I’m rooting for them to succeed.

Music Review: Unmap - Volcano Choir

Note: This will end up being an article for the first issue of my school newspaper, the Bulldog Bulletin, but it also serves as a new album review for "Unmap" by Volcano Choir.

In the winter of 2007, Justin Vernon retreated to an abandoned cabin in the middle of the Wisconsin woods to escape from the pile of stress that had engulfed his existence. The following spring, he emerged with what would become the band Bon Iver and one of the most critically acclaimed albums of 2008. For Emma, Forever Ago was an explosion in the indie music scene because of its soul-bearing acoustic melodies and its ground-breaking multi-layered falsetto vocals. Within months of For Emma's release, Vernon became the new darling of indie music. Bon Iver followed up with another successful release, an extended play entitled Blood Bank. Now Vernon has released a new album with his old side project called Volcano Choir (in collaboration with Collections of Colonies of Bees) entitled Unmap as he tries to build on his current momentum.

In my opinion, Unmap picks up the seeds that were dropped by the Blood Bank EP and begins to plant a forest with them. In particular, Blood Bank's last track, "Woods", was a precursor to what Unmap represents, which is Vernon stepping in to the recording studio and going to town on every knob, lever, and button on the soundboard. He is truly revolutionizing the way artists can look at recording music, proving that production can be just as cool as performance.

The album starts at a slow pace with "Husks and Shells", however this album is certainly not a race, the listener who slows down and takes in every second and every note definitely comes out the winner. It's a great album for just slapping on the headphones, lying in bed, and digesting with the ears. Furthermore, this is an album that personifies the concept of whole-is-greater-than-sum-of-its-parts (a big plus in my eyes); it's difficult to cherry-pick because the tracks melt together well and no track noticeably outshines the others.

Many of the appeals of For Emma can be found on Unmap, including Vernon's soulful falsetto cries and his sporadic acoustic finger picking. But this album is definitely more about the harmonies and the instrumentation rather than deep lyrics and hooks. In fact, excluding "Island, IS', most of the sparse words that appear on the album are nearly indecipherable because they're buried under so many layers of sound or because they're shouted out at such a high-pitch. Instead, there is much more power in Vernon's multi-tracked hums or "ahh's". After a few listens, my favorite track so far would have to be "Still" because I thought the addition of instruments to the previously a-Capella "Woods" was really cool and brilliantly spooky.

To be clear: if you're into simple cookie-cutter modern rock songs or rap/R&B, then this album is most likely not for you. However, if you enjoy going a little unconventional with you're music and also like to give your ears an auditory work-out every once in a while, then I would definitely recommend checking it out, along with the Bon Iver catalogue. Unmap was not created to become a landmark album that will be a touchstone for indie music in the years to come, to put it simply it's really more of a musical experiment. But what ever it may be, I give a thumbs up to Justin Vernon. You can check out Bon Iver at www.myspace.com/boniver. Enjoy.