When I was diving into the emo scene in the early-to-mid 2000s, one band was constantly lifted up as the primary influence for nearly every band I listened to: Sunny Day Real Estate.
But looking back on the twinkly guitars and soaring vocals those bands employed, it seems like Mineral may have had more direct influence.
Last night, I went to a hardcore show in a crowded basement on a Monday night in South Bend, Indiana (like…a surprisingly crowded basement. And everybody showed up before the first band and stayed the whole time??? It was nuts).
And among a lineup of heavy riffing, mosh pitting, passionate hardcore, Crafter from Massachusetts stood far above the rest.
Hello, readers.
I’d like to take a moment to apologize for the lack of posts in the past week. But I promise I have a really, really good excuse.
While I seemingly spend most of my time listening to records, the last two weeks I’ve been making one with my band SPACESHIPS. We’ve been recording in my house with our friend Dave of Naal, and it’s been super dope. We’ll be announcing some new stuff really soon, so keep your ears open.
After we’re all wrapped up, I’ll be jumping back into reviews—which is great, because I’ve got some really great stuff in the queue…I finally got a copy of Mineral’s perennial emo classic EndSerenading, and then I’ve finally arrived at the Mogwai section of my collection, which is one of my favorite sections.
Until then, keep spinning.
While the last few years have seen many music fans struggling to reconcile that they people behind their favorite music were terrible people (see especially: Brand New), Morrissey fans have always been painfully aware that he’s a bastard. To most Smiths fans, he’s like our old, drunk uncle who we wish would just shut up.
For the most part, that hasn’t stopped the fandom’s appreciation of his work. There’s been a sort of, “well, you know, he’s just old” attitude toward most of his press antics.
But Years of Refusal, his 2009 tour-de-force, doesn’t sound like the work of an old idiot clinging to his glory days. It’s a fierce and muscular disc that’s just as vigorous as anything he released twenty years earlier.
And here is where I abandon every single amount of musical elitism I’ve built up and out myself as the poser I am.
Because this is my favorite Modest Mouse record—by a pretty significant margin.
Maybe it’s because it’s the first record of theirs that I heard. Maybe it’s because at the deepest core of my being, I am a pirate and am thus a sucker for anything nautical-themed.
Or maybe it’s just because it’s a really, really great record.
Every once in a while, a record comes around that completely transcends what it was trying to do.
For example, no one ever would have guessed that what started as an emo-leaning indie band with a manic, ranting lead singer would one day release a pop song as perfect as “Float On.” Yet fifteen years later after that song hit #68 on the Billboard charts, it remains an indelible part of the cultural consciousness.
While I’m generally very cautious with my record budget, every once in a while I take a gamble. One of the best gambles I’ve ever taken was a five-record mystery pack from Top Shelf Records for $25.
As far as gambles go, that that was a home run. But perhaps the best thing that came out of it was this record from emo punk/indie rockers Mock Orange. Continue reading
Minus the Bear is most well-known for their asymmetrical drum rhythms, effects pedal experimentation, and double-handed guitar tapping.
But if you give a casual listen to Menos El Oso, you might miss all that. The group is so comfortable in their experimentation that they use their mad scientist tactics to create a record that might be mistaken for a pretty accessible pop record.