Bloc Party's SILENT ALARM

There's a reason Bloc Party's 2005 break-out debut album and the word "explosive" are so frequently connected. Bloc Party hit the music scene with a sound that is truly unique. You know how U2 has, like, 5 million imitators (Ours, the Airborne Toxic Event, etc.) and sometimes they get pretty damn close to the actual U2 sound? You don't hear Bloc Party imitators, and you don't hear a Bloc Party song and mistake it for someone else's song. No one can touch their sound, especially since it is constantly evolving. And that's why critics jumped on this album like white on rice. Inspired by the post-punk revolution and alt/indie bands such as The Smiths, Bloc Party incorporates alternative rock/garage rock, punk, and post-punk into their musical compositions. In terms of post-punk, well, just compare Okereke in the song "Luno"to Robert Smith and you'll see what I mean. Tight drums and guitars hearken back to the earlier punk movement when songs were short and sweet and "what the hell is a slow song?" reigned supreme. And the melancholic, moody lyrics are pure indie.

SILENT ALARM

We open with "Like Eating Glass" and a whining, high-pitched guitar. This is definitely an album highlight; it opens slowly but with this nagging little promise, and then builds up the sound until you're totally engaged. By the time Okereke's lyrics start ("It's so cold in this house/open mouth swallowing us/the children sent home from school/will not stop crying"), you know this song is going to be an introspective puzzle. While he's busy wailing away, Tong adds tight drums, and the pensive, sorrowful dual ode to and criticism of societal apathy is complete.

"Helicopter" is an even more pointed social and political commentary. The guitars are whiny and driving, and the tempo fast. ("he's born a liar/he'll die a liar/some things will never be different...just like his dad/the same mistakes"). Then we come to one of the most fascinating compositions of the album, "Positive Tension." The first half of the song is not as driven as the first two songs, and actually seems to be going nowhere as Okereke sings vulgar, angry lyrics. Eventually the song begins to build, and around the 2:30 mark it really kicks into high gear; there is a complete shift from a medium tempo to the characteristic fast, drums-and-guitar tight and layered frantic Bloc Party signature sound.

Possibly BP's most popular song, "Banquet" is a hypnotic composition that moves at a rapid, panicking pace and yet is still easily sung-along to. The content deals with emerging from childhood into adulthood, a theme which pervades the album as the members found themselves at the time filled with disillusionment with the world, and a growing struggle with apathy.

"The Bluest Light" is a rare slow song, but doesn't resonate as much as other slow songs on the album; for once, Okereke doesn't seem to be straining his voice, and the lyrics are softer and more romantic than the hard, tough lyrics of previous songs. This song still doesn't resonante with me, however--perhaps because I am still trying to figure out what "You are the bluest light" means.

"She's Hearing Voices" is a neat little break from the album's style, and adds a touch of variety. It manages to be upbeat without so much melancholy; in fact, it seems to be making light of a schizophrenic. In the bridge to the chorus, they experiment a little with the electronic effects which will pervade their later music so much, and the guitar differs from the straight post-punk high-pitched garage guitar as it is infused with electric effects at certain points. It certainly sticks out, and is a good segway into later albums.

Rarely is a love ballad so perfect as "This Modern Love." The tempo is perfect, moving at a medium pace which bars it from being boring, but not at so fast a pace that we can't keep up. The guitars in this song are more sweeping, as is the over-all sound; Okereke, again, has toned down the wounded yelping, as some are apt to call it. We open with incredibly imageric lines ("To be lost in the forest/To be cut adrift/You've been trying to reach me/You bought me a book")
The melody is simple but catchy, and it is truly the lyrics that shine. They dance between acusations ("Baby, you've got to be more discerning/I've never known what's good for me") and subtle declarations of love ("I'll pay for you anytime"). Eventually, the title comes into play, and we hear "This modern love/breaks me/This modern love/wastes me." Feel free to sigh in satisfaction-this is modern satisfaction.

The album lulls here. "Pioneers" is a perfectly respectable song, and one of the most ambitious and outspoken in terms of political statements on the album or in general modern music, but it's not nearly as exciting as "Helicopter" or as poignant as "This Modern Love." "Price of Gas" is catchier, and successfully alternates between basic verses and a catchy chorus; the echoing guitars and the yelping have returned, accompanied by backup voices that have been significantly twisted. The song itself is fairly political, with environmental overtones as well (yay!), which will appear in later albums.

"Little Thoughts" is a refreshing change of tone, and the most commercially viable of all their songs. The lyrics are simple and catchy, as are the guitar hooks.

I'm honestly surprised that "So Here We Are" was released a single--I personally enjoy "Two More Years" much more, which wasn't even released on the original album. Yes "SHWA" builds, and it's slower in tempo than most of the other songs on the album, but it seems to meander along and go nowhere. That's all in comparison to the rest of the album, however; taken out of context, it's still a good, maybe even great, song.

"Luno" lets you know something intense is going to happen because it starts out with heavy, fast drums and bass. The lyrics are cryptic, and the frantic attitude that has categorized the album throughout is back at full force.

If there's any song on the album that echoes critic the assertions that BP is just shy at times of arena/anthem rock, it's "Plans." "Plans" is sweeping, has universal lyrics about the futility of planning one's future, and really solid composition. I'd love to see what would happen if Bloc Party ever decided to incorporate the piano into a song. Unfortunately, they've moved away from this style more and more in recent albums, and into the experimental electronic side of things- which I appreciate, but...oh, well.

"Compliments" finishes the album off. It literally took years for me to get into this ballad of apathy, and you have to be in a pensive or dark mood to really enjoy listening. "Compliments" is not for the faint of heart, and it's on the heavily electronic side of things. I actually think it was courageous of them include it on the album. It's a great song, just think first before sharing it with friends...they might ask if you need to take a Zoloft.

-elln

Gossip Girl Is Very Bad For You

Every Monday at 8:00 pm, I set my DVR to record the CW. Why?

Gossip Girl.

And no, I am not ashamed.

Gossip Girl is based on Cecily von Ziegesar’s young adult series about over privileged socialite teens at a Manhattan private school. I tried to read it once like four years ago and my eyeballs almost forced their way back inside my skull. Seriously.

So it’s important that I preface this by clarifying that the TV show is nothing like the book series (from what I remember). Everything is bright, glimmering, and melodramatic, but it also has a sense of humor, whereas its literary counterpart spends every page listing all the couture designers worn by the characters. Creator Josh Schwartz (formerly of The O.C.) is smart and keeps everything satirical and completely over the top. It’s pretty much fantastic.

The premise of the show is simple. Mystery Manhattanite blogger Gossip Girl (voiced by the hilarious Kristen Bell) follows the daily travails of the poor-little-rich-girls-and-boys of the Upper East Side.

Much of the show is anchored by the simultaneous friendship and rivalry of Reformed Bad Girl Serena van der Woodsen (they all have names like this, by the way. Except the Humphreys because they’re poor) and her bitchy and controlling best friend Blair Waldorf. The other anchoring theme is the reoccurring disparity between rich and poor, the beautiful fantasy world that they live in and the real world that is… Brooklyn. Well, Brooklyn as represented by the Humphreys.

The Humphreys are poor. We know they’re poor because they live in Brooklyn and ride the subway to school, both of which are clearly things that indicate near-destitution. It’s kind of laughable that the producers expect us to believe the Humphreys are poor even as the camera pans over the expensive-looking accoutrements in their trendy, well-kept Brooklyn loft, but whatever. There are better reasons to hate on the Humphreys.

A reason in itself is faux-intellectual Dan “My Morals Are Higher Than Your Morals” Humphrey. His best friend Vanessa Abrams is an insufferably condescending hipster. And his sister Jenny is so stupid as to almost be mentally deficient. Poor Brooklyn is represented by the three biggest idiots in New York: viewers can’t really be blamed for turning to the person that is their total opposite.

That person is Chuck Bass. Chuck is sleazy, has no moral compunctions, and looks like Jimmy Fallon with a chromosomal disorder. It’s delightful. He has daddy issues and paid someone to take the SATs for him. He owns a burlesque club by the age of 17. Nothing about him is remotely realistic, and everything about him is amazing.

But that’s ok, because one of the best things about this show is the way it’s completely out of touch with reality. I love this one scene where all the sixteen and seventeen-year-olds are partying at Chuck’s burlesque club when a 30something guy walks in. They all stare at him and ask, deadpan, if he’s a little old to be there. Gossip Girl remains likeable because it knows not to take itself seriously. There’s a sense of self-awareness that undercuts the superficial values it promotes: you can see it in everything, even the clothes. The entire aesthetic is prep school on LSD, all neon plaid and bows and clashing colors and as over-the-top as the rest of the show: it’s just escapism. Yes, it’s ridiculous, but it’s also ridiculously fun.

-Riding

Steven Hall's THE RAW SHARK TEXTS

With its creative employ of mixed media and a feverish plot which can be read two ways, The Raw Shark Texts (and yes, it is a pun on the famous Rorschach inkblot tests) is indeed a masterpiece which spans time and genres.

It's also being made into a movie with the screenplay adapted by Simon Beaufoy, who wrote the screenplay for Slumdog Millionaire.

Steven Hall's use of media throughout the book, and his way of playing with format, is clever and unforgettable; the image of a shark created from text fragments (see right) crops up throughout the novel, notably in a forty-page+ break which slowly depicts the shark swimming closer and closer to the reader.

The shark is called a Ludovician, and it's after Eric Sanderson- the Second Eric Sanderson, that is, and he's receiving help from the First Eric Sanderson who has sent him letters from the past. While Eric's psychologist tells him he has amnesia and that he has forgotten his previous identity, the letters from Eric himself slowly reveal that this may not be the case at all- in fact, a conceptual thought fish has eaten his memory, and this particular fish is a rare predator which locks onto its prey until it completely devours the individual's thoughts, ideas, and memories. If this happens, Eric can live what is called a "twilight life" or a fake existence with no previous memories, until his time for death rapidly approaches. Eager to escape the Ludovician and to understand why it is chasing him, Eric sets out to find the source of the letters with his cat, Ian, and a mysterious woman, Scout.

Slowly, Eric begins to learn about his previous self. Suffering immensely after the death of his girlfriend Clio, the First Eric Sanderson does some very foolish things which lead to the Second Eric Sanderson's current situation. But even if Eric understands all of the clues, will he be able to save himself?

The story itself moves gradually away from reality as Scout and Eric search for the elusive Dr. Trey Fidorous, who presumably has all the answers (Ian's just along for the ride). The immensely satisfying facet of the story is that it can be read two ways- Eric Sanderson is on the frontier of science, but is merely trying to understand himself and to recapture his beloved; or, Eric Sanderson suffers from fugue, a condition which induces amnesia multiple times, and much of the story takes place entirely in his head as he progresses toward insanity and eventual death.

Hall's style is very introspective, and also very lyrical. His words are full to the brim with images, as well as references and memories and tiny details of how Eric views life. While intensely poetic, Hall's technique also manages to be snappy, face-paced, and funny; he captures the quirky every day moments in life and the private dialogue between friends and lovers realistically, something that so many authors try (and fail) to do.

The book itself has a little something for everyone- the basis of Eric Sanderson's conceptual thought fish predator is in science-fiction; riveting chases with the Ludovician are there for those who like action; for mystery-lovers, the whole book is more or less a logic puzzle, and a search for the enigmatic Dr. Fidorous; there is a compelling story of modern love; and, as an added bonus, there is an ambiguous ending.

How much better can it get?

-elln

So Long, Louque...actually, Hello

"Modern eclecticism" is how Louque describes his music, and critics have corroborated that statement. It's incredibly difficult to categorize Louque's music and style; he has roots in Southern blues and folk, reggae, African drumming, shakers, and guords, slinky electronic synth, and the occasional sun-drenched or melancholic piano phrase. His diversity has brought him success in the soundtrack business, but he has yet to garner commercial success. If we're talking Louque, we're talking niche. And that doesn't make him or his underground following any less good.

Born Dustan Louque, Louque goes by his surname (pronounce it Luke so you don't moronically pronounce it Loke like I did for two years) and draws from both his Southern and Northern environments; he hails from New Orleans and Brooklyn. Louque moved to NY to pursue acting at first, but discontinued school to devote himself to music. Other than that, it's hard to get information about the man; he's incredibly private (but oh so wonderful).

In an interview at the Feeling Better Than Everfine Festival in the summer of 2004 in Cleveland, Ohio, Louque said that he "can go from classical music to drum and bass to reggae to rock..." He added that computers and new technology are what made these new sounds possible.

Speaking about his debut album, So Long, released independently before he joined Lava Records: "the album was made in my bedroom in Brooklyn, pretty much, and I mixed it in the studio."

And then there was his excellent shut-down of the reporter.
Reporter: "I know OAR when they write new stuff they road test it a lot, play it live, then they see what the fans like-"
Louque (cutting him off): "-yeah, I'm not really interested in that...[the record] is more or less a time capsule for me...it's not really, like, what the fans think...it's kind of like, they come with me."

Now, I know there are different opinions about how much fan-pandering any kind of artist should do, but at least we know that Louque is not a sell-out, unlike a few other people I could name...

I think his lyrics rather simple, beautiful, and poetic; not surprising, considering that both F. Scott Fitzgerald and Leonard Cohen are listed under his influences on his myspace.

And now, on to So Long, his first and only album to date (though there should be another one out pretty soon).

SO LONG

We start out with "Perique," a hypnotic, melancholy song with the same lyrics echoing over and over in reverberating distant refrain over the tight snare drums. This song is so relaxed and mesmerizing that it may take a while to grow on you, but it's a real treat once it does.

"Whoa Now" was featured in the movie Disturbia (I haven't seen the movie); it's the most upbeat song on the album, featuring a jazzy opening thanks in large part to piano. Upbeat as it may be, however, it still retains Louque's "cool cat" vibe and remains as swanky as everything else he does. The chorus is a simple departure from his normally pretty nonsense poetry as he sings "whoa now, have you seen? my pretty love's just far away/I'm hoping that she's alright/I love my baby cause she's alright." Shakers and bongos add a nice Latin flavor; I really can't imagine anyone listening to this song and denouncing it as awful.

Perhaps Louque's most beloved song, what sticks in the craw of so many fans is that it's still impossible to get lyrics to "Art." This is my favorite song of all time, and I can still only take a guess at the chorus. Incidentally, I think it goes something along the lines of:

I see you running
keep running
your time's coming
I see you running
a sweet burning
your life story

Louque's crooning, moaning voice coupled with the gorgeous full piano chords, slinky bass, and tight snare, creates a sparse composition that still manages to pack an intense punch. This isn't shoe-gazing walls of sound from the Verve or U2's sensitive, huge, echoing chords. It's simple beauty which makes you want to cry.

"Kenny the Jet" is a mix of NY-style rap and reggae-inspired rap about truth, destiny, and self; heavy lyrics are set over, again, thin drums and a selection of both electronic and obscure instruments. Again, very chill, with a touch of woe.

We already know at this point how fond Louque is of the piano, and "Still in Waiting"'s foundation is built on the sorrowful opening bars from the instrument. Adding in a simple bass line, and, of course, the drums, the sound is gradually built up for this song about being caught in the middle of an impossible dream. The opening lines hint seductively at an enigmatic, furtive journey as Louque sings, "Better watch the song you sing/We don't need no lie...Remember when it all began?"

"Cry Cry" is easily my second-favorite song on the album. The original may have roots in country and Southern rock, but Louque puts a different spin on Mazzy Star's ballad. His version is an updated blues, apparent from the very first opening notes. Both versions are quite beautiful, but Louque's comes through as less of a wallowing anthem of self-pity and more of an admission; his honest voice carries the quality of a surprised confession ("Cry cry for you/just like you knew I wouldn't do"), which sneakily endears the listener to him as we feel his slow, musing pain.

Did I mention that Louque's from the South? "Lifeline" has a pained chorus that hearkens back to Southern slave songs, while Louque himself sings about the challenges of, as Bloc Party would put it, "This Modern Love."

"I Did" is not, I have to say, my album favorite. The lyrics? I'm all there- it's question-packed and heartfelt, and has possibly some of the best work on the album in terms of writing. But I don't think the melody quite jibes with the song; frankly, if Louque is boring anywhere, it's on this song. But don't knock it til you try it.

Album closer "Time Will Take" is sufficiently bluesy but also suffused with the most rock quality of the whole album. It's too upbeat to be described as melancholy, but it's still tinged with sorrow. Very singable, calm, and, again, hypnotic. The melody continues to build while becoming more and more optimistic.

-elln