Jolie Holland: All Her Love’s In Vain

If you’ve ever walked alone at night near woods, then you know what it is like to hear the strange cry or whisper from some otherworldly animal coming from the creek side or somewhere far and unthinkable in the middle of the night–perhaps a night owl or a coyote, maybe just the wind through the tree tops. It frightens you in the best way, makes you look over your shoulder, shudder, or just run. However, these noises are comforting—a reminder that there is something mysterious left in the world, and hidden in a depth of nature that will never be seen but makes you quiver and run and cause the imagination to see images of a black-cloaked spirit cooing from some branch high in the trees. The music of Jolie Holland has the same effect. 

But forget metaphors to describe her music–it is a metaphor for everything in that mysterious night howl. The songs embody a folksy nature, with a twang of country, a touch of blues, the swing of Dixieland jazz, and a Cajun spice–something you may come across on the corner of Jackson Square in the heart of New Orleans. The sound is unique, distinguished by Holland’s voice–she wraps her mouth around each syllable as though she were holding a butterscotch candy under her tongue while fighting back a well of tears. The result is unsettling yet lovely, and fulfills the “three poles” by which Holland judges her work (and others)—1) it must be artistic, “me trying to be Thelonius Monk in my brain”, 2) it must be communicative, “moving forward artistically in some direction”, and 3) it must be beautiful, “if it’s not beautiful then fuck it.”

After Catalpa, a collection of demos released in 2003 followed by her studio release debut Escondida released on Anti in 2004, this rambling gypsy girl’s music has consistently blended ethereal vibes with romantic themes to ironically explore real-life instances of alienation, heartache, death, love, and other outlets for the misery of humanity. The socially alienated outcast makes regular appearances, passing trains call out with promises of adventure, anonymity comes with poverty, and moonshine and morphine settle the nomad’s troubled soul. Her latest release (and best to date), Springtime Can Kill You, wilts gloriously with all the beauty of a defeated rose as we see the dichotomous relationship between the lushness of spring and the fickle emotions of love clash in a parallel of beautiful and ugly–“We’re lost in the shadows of a beautiful spring / Empty-handed lovers, and all we do is sing”, from the song “Mehitabel’s Blues.” Despite admitting indifference for Robert Johnson, (“He’s like the McDonald’s of blues writers,” she says, “I’m just not interested in most of his stuff.”) the album echoes the romantic sentiment that all love is in vain. 

“That’s the real mindfuck of what was going on in my life. It was like all these really good things were happening but I couldn’t stand it,” Holland comments on the emotional state that produced SCKY. Her manner of speech is littered with “likes” and “you knows” as she continues in her hazy Californian slang, “Like, I was going through a breakup and I was trying to keep my life together and at the same time, nobody could identify with me because my career was blowing up. I felt horrible because all this crap was going on in my life and I didn’t have anybody to really keep me steady.” And spring persisted: “At the same time, it was this beautiful, beautiful season, and things were going really well in my life on paper and I just didn’t care. I couldn’t enjoy it because my life was hell.”

That “hell”, when introduced to the tempting beauty of spring, resulted in songs like “Mexican Blue,” “Please Don’t Tell ‘Em,” and “Nothing Left to Do.” The theme is connected by threads of Dylanesque imagery throughout the album—“hydrangeas blooming in the alleyway,” “a Queen at the bus stop,” “old roses blooming in the ghetto.”  “It’s like that beautiful, sexy power of spring and so it’s just lush and wonderful and then, you know, then there’s your heart, and sometimes your heart can’t take all that,” Holland explains. 

While the new album is a work of careful studio production, it serves as the much anticipated follow-up to the above mentioned releases, which are known for there richly organic, live feel, as though Holland had recorded the songs on her back porch for an audience of friends on a summer night. “I wanted to make a record with more instruments than Escondida that would just sort of draw in my community a little bit more,” says Holland, “but I wanted it to have like, the spiritual quality of Catalpa.” With every song on SCKY recorded live and Holland’s increased know-how as a producer, the album preserves the vintage, spontaneous sound of its predecessors, while capturing a complete flow of thought in time. “I appreciate records that are sort of like a movie and have like an integrated theme that they are presenting,” says Holland, “It just happened to feel right to put all these songs out together and they just happened to be about this one really rough time.”

Although Holland has only been on the music scene for a few years, her prolificacy and talent as a songwriter and singer has earned her world-wide attention, and scored her blurbs and name-drops in publications such a Rolling Stone and Paste. Her collection of fans is even more impressive. Tom Waits nominated Catalpa on shortlist.com in 2003, referring to her music as “like creek-dipping at Birdland.” Because most of her own musical heroes are also her personal friends, she can’t digest the acknowledgment of admiration from such a highly revered “fan.” “There is only one musical hero of mine that hasn’t actually become a fan of mine,” she claims, “And Tom Waits … there is actually no place in my mind for that to sit. That is like an indigestible piece of information, so I’m still waiting for that one. It’s like impossible to absorb.” 

And about her … just how much of the romantic, mysterious figure, that her songs describe and her voice represents, is she?

As a child growing up in Houston, Texas, she always harbored a “private obsession” for music, playing the piano, guitar, and viola, among other instruments, from a young age.  “I’m self-taught. My parents never got me lessons,” she says, curtly, “And that’s pretty much all I have to say about my childhood.” The decision to leave home at the age of 18 probably sprung from the same feelings as the above comment, and by 1994, she found herself bumming around between Austin, Texas and New Orleans in the company of artists, musicians, circus performers, puppeteers, and the like. She ended up on the West Coast by 1996, moving between Vancouver and San Francisco.

But homelessness suits her, and not just because she’s more productive musically while on the road. Her need to be itinerant, and her explanation for it, are nearly as developed as the rounded sound of her voice in song. “I have a problem living in houses,” she explains, “You know, my dad was a total freak and houses are actually really … the idea of me living alone in a room is really painful, so I don’t do it.” She continues: “If I’m in a house, I’m like battling my demons. So, it’s like I’m just running. And I don’t even have an address now, like I just stay with friends and lovers when I’m off the road.” 

With accumulating success, her comment that “poor people make the best art” causes the question of “what if?” to loom overhead in the near future. “Some artists have a really bad problem with money in that they think they can’t respect themselves if they don’t die in the gutters. I don’t have that problem,” Holland says with a measured amount of sarcasm, “Even if I do get to the place where I don’t look immediately to the price of something on a menu, even if I get past that point of poverty, which I’m not, I still don’t know how to buy new clothes and I barely know how to get my hair cut … like, I see the money as supporting the music.”

That urge to be on the run, a conscious relationship with financial success, along with a soul betrayed by love and an innate loneliness, helps create that Romantic mindset from which Jolie’s songs come, whether it’s an actual mindset or an artistic one. But, she assures, her songs are “all very true stories.”But any attempt to describe Jolie, her music, and that elusive, unearthly “feel” that each album, each song, each syllable is so carefully wrapped in, truly transcends a written description.  In the midst of a worldwide tour and rave reviews from the press for SCKY, she’s tottering on the cusp of a success that might challenge the inspiration for her “true-story” songs. “Tom Waits and Keith Richards actually wrote a song that is really fucking beautiful. I love this song so much,” she says, and then breaks into “That Feel” from Tom Waits’ Bone Machine. “‘Oh, there’s one thing you can’t lose, it’s that feel / You can pawn your watch and chain, but not that feel,’” she sings in her loping voice, and then shares an encouraging thought: “If you come from the bottom and you remember where you come from, I think you’re all right.”

Photos by Claude Shade

Park – Building a Better _____

Upon beginning my piece on Park’s latest effort, Building A Better _____, I did what I almost always do. Once I’ve given the record an ample listen, I pull up the band’s website, thumb through the press sheet that had been tossed in with the record, and generally try to figure out a bit of info on exactly where these musicians are coming from. When I got knee-deep into the back story of Park though, my attention was almost waning from reading about the numerous breakups, line-up changes, and general what-not that has gone wrong with this band on it’s sordid path from it’s humble roots back in 1999, to this superb record that it’s taken the collective moniker close to six years to finally make.

The current, and fourth, line-up for the band is Ladd Mitchell on guitar and vocals, Miles Logan on drums, Alex Haycraft on bass, and finally Aaron Bickel on guitar. This seems to be the golden set-up, as the guys have managed to put together a record that will surely be remembered as a turning point in the band’s career; effectively propelling them from obscurity into an indie rock band to be reckoned with. The sound of Park is, first and foremost, unabashed emo rock. Inklings of a more mature Jimmy Eat World are surely present here, as well as ample doses of Further Seems Forever, and Saves The Day. Ladd Mitchell’s vocal delivery is greatly reminiscent of what Copeland’s Aaron Marsh laid down on that band’s superb Beneath Medicine Tree; which works fantastically well for Park; meshing perfectly with the industrial guitar licks, and melodic undertones.

A very literate, though amazingly unpretentious brand of indie emo with instantly likeable pop sensibilities is what Park has brought to the table on this release. Things open fittingly with the catchy, more-than-single worthy songs “The Trophy Wife,” and “Mississippi Burning.” The good continues on with the stellar (and in my opinion highlight of the record) song “Angels and Errors.” There is more than enough here to propel this band to a much-deserved place above the current echelon of dime a dozen emo-rock bands.

This is music for fans of emo rock that don’t just sit around and cry on Friday nights. This is rock with emo undertones—not the other way around. The boys of Park are definitely building something; personally I think they’re hard at work on building a better rock band. Enjoy.

(Lobster Records)

Rise Against: Image is Nothing

With the release of their second major label offering The Sufferer & The Witness, Chicago’s Rise Against have cemented themselves as a punk rock tour-de-force; releasing one consistently strong album after another. They’ve brought a heightened sense of awareness to the masses and unlike some of their counterparts whose form “rebellion” comes packaged and produced, Rise Against share their message the old fashioned way- by touring like there’s no tomorrow. With the new record making waves and an ever-increasing tour itinerary, Tim McIlrath recently had a chat with Sound the Sirens about their current role in the musical landscape and how honesty in what they do, means everything to them and their fans.

The Sufferer & The Witness is a fantastic record through and through; did a lot of its success come from learning from recording Siren Song…?

McIlrath: To be honest, what I think really helped shape this record was the fact that we didn’t over-think it too much. We wrote these songs in a very short period of time, and they just seemed to flow out of us. With few exceptions, these songs just seemed to write themselves and the roads that we chose to follow with each one were clearly marked. That said, we certainly learn something every time we record, so our Siren Song sessions played a role in our continuing education on how to be this band.

Did the approach to the new material differ to what you’ve done in the past?

McIlrath: I think just being in a good place, mentally, really had a huge impact on this record. We were over label transitions and member changes and becoming acquainted with new people we work with and we found ourselves really happy with our situation all around. We are surrounded by supportive people and supportive fans and that helped fuel these songs. We were able to focus 100% on the music and keep our heads completely in the game. But we’ve approached each record the same, regardless of what label put it out.

It must have been a blast working with Bill Stevenson and Jason Livermore.

McIlrath: Bill and Jason are the best production team in punk rock right now; no one can touch them. In addition to that, they are some of this band’s best friends and fifth and sixth members, so it was really the most ideal situation.

Your music is more than just about social change. There are songs about personal issues, human emotion, and a constant struggle to find our place in life.

McIlrath: That’s because there is more to life than social change, and our songs have been about life. Social change is definitely a predominant theme to a lot of what we do, but we don’t ignore the fact that we are all human and have emotions and feelings that transcend anything political. Life is complex, and I think our songs span those complexities.

Is that what songs like Injection are about? In a way, finding ourselves in this vast world?

McIlrath: Definitely.

Has politics and “rebellion,” in the wake of the Green Days of the world, become a rather “commercialized entity” not so much a “force for change” anymore? Can it still be?

McIlrath: Rebellion and revolution will always be commercialized once it reaches a certain point of exposure. Revolution has been and will be commodified and sold back to us by big business. The system is not afraid of the rhetoric of revolution; that shit has been floating around since the days of the hippies. What they fear is education. That’s why subversive music, literature and art are so important. This type of artistic output is definitely a force of change and I hope that its torch is carried to the next generation, as it was carried to people like me from the previous generation.

What sorts of projects are you involved with outside of music?

McIlrath: You need only to peek at our tour schedule to know that we don’t have a life outside of music. We’ve chosen an occupation that really doesn’t allow for such luxuries unless you’re a giant rockstar who can afford to take vacations from the road. In the wake of downloading and filesharing, the only way we keep a roof over our heads is through constant touring.

It’s been seven years since you came together. How true are you to the original vision now? Are you where you expected to be after seven years?

McIlrath: To be honest, there was no real original vision. We just started playing together for fun. We didn’t map any of this out and I honestly never thought it would ever get this big. The ideas around this band just sort of manifested themselves as we continued to write and play. We’ve always been honest with our fans and ourselves and we’ve never relied on an image or a gimmick. In that sense, Rise Against is it’s own monster, and we are just vessels of what it’s become. We’ve grown with our fanbase and they’ve played a significant role in fueling what we started years ago.

With the popularity of earlier albums, and an ever-growing diehard fanbase, do you ever find yourselves making decisions/changes because you don’t want to let your fans down?

McIlrath: Our fans mean the world to us, and we trust that they would never want us to compromise anything in our drive to be ourselves and be true to ourselves. Obviously, there are people who don’t always understand that, but I’m not out here trying desperately to please everyone. I’m out here to be myself and to give something back to a scene that gave me so much.

Where’s your favorite place to gig on tour? Chicago, maybe?

McIlrath: We have so many favorites. Chicago is certainly a favorite for obvious reasons. To play on the same stages that we saw so many of our favorite bands play on, that’s a great feeling. Canada, Denver, San Diego, and Australia have shown us a lot of love as well.

What sorts of things outside of music inspire you to do what you do at the moment?

McIlrath: Reading. I think literature is such an important part of life. There’s an endless fountain of knowledge out there and books like Fahrenheit 451 or 1984 have as much to with the person I am as bands like Minor Threat and Black Flag. That’s why there’s a short reading list inside the liner notes of our new record.

Rise Against’s latest album, The Sufferer & The Witness is out now on Geffen.

Arctic Monkeys – Who the Fuck are the Arctic Monkeys?

Beyond all odds, your debut record leapt the charts and became the fastest selling debut from any band, ever, in your home country. Even the usual haters find themselves falling head over heels in love with your music. You’re just too darn good to hate. You’ve become a legend among “next big things,” and are, essentially, on top of the world. You’re currently touring with the likes of Bob Dylan and the Strokes.

So, what do you do to follow up success like that? In the case of Britain’s Arctic Monkeys, they’ve decided to drop a five song EP mere months after their breathtaking debut has finally gotten a release stateside. Add on the fact that the EP is filled with songs about dealing with sudden fame, being on the road, and coping with popularity; and you’ve got yourself a recipe for disaster. Ohh well, I suppose that’s why we all just love these guys.

On the Arctic Monkeys first technical follow-up from View From The Afternoon, the Who The Fuck Are The Arctic Monkeys? EP, the young men from Sheffield are just oozing with gusto, and have put together a release that will stand quite strongly beside their lightning bolt debut. With View From The Afternoon, the boys showed quite well that they could rock; but on Who The Fuck they give a middle-finger high to everyone who says that they can’t write songs, or that they’re a one hit wonder. Look no further than the title track, or “Despair In The Departure Lounge,” for some of Alex Turner & Co.’s best tracks to date.

They turn things down a notch or two, slowing their breakneck pace down to a mere marathon sprint, on many of the tracks here. It opens with carryover track “View From The Afternoon,” followed up by brand new rocker “Cigarette Smoker Fiona.” Things then slow down to near-ballad speed with the sweet, gorgeous “Despair In The Departure Lounge.” Which finds the young Mr. Turner jonesing for a lady left behind. The stellar, easy-going dirty pop tune “No Buses,” which finds Turner carrying the song on the strength of his vocal delivery, only accented by a bit of guitar, piano, and percussion is most definitely the highlight. It’s as good a song as any indie pop band has put out in ages; and is more than worth this EP’s price of admission to hear.

It’s great to hear some new music from the ‘Monkeys, and this EP should do more than an ample job of keeping you occupied until these guys can find their way back into a studio to put together another full length.

(Domino Recording Co.)

A Night with Yellowcard

w/ Rock Kills Kid, Matchbook Romance, Hedley
07.11.06 @ Meadowbrook Musical Arts Center, Gilford, NH

The last year has been a tumultuous one for Yellowcard. The band’s latest album, Lights & Sounds, failed to match the multi-platinum sales of its 2003 breakthrough Ocean Avenue, and single “Rough Landing, Holly” found Yellowcard mostly abandoned by fickle pop radio. Then there were the internet gossip, singer Ryan Key’s vocal problems, the ever-changing band line-up, and the fan backlash- all inevitable results of extensive touring and runaway success. But still Yellowcard soldiers on, with this tour marking a badly needed back-to-basics approach for the energetic Jacksonville quintet. And fittingly so, of all the weapons in Yellowcard’s arsenal, its powerful, off-the-wall live show is its strongest.

Although poorly attended (the seated amphitheatre was less than half full), both the band and the audience carried a colossal presence throughout the performance. Opener Rock Kills Kid revved up the crowd with their retro dance rock, proving more worthy of success than unappealing single “Paralyze” would lead you to believe. Matchbook Romance, third on the bill, was considerably less animated than the other bands. But singer Andrew Jordan’s vocal prowess cancelled out the band’s formulaic approach to songs from its latest, Voices.

The fans who did shell out thirty-five dollars for the show however, were hanging on Key’s every word, hopelessly devoted, and the band couldn’t have been more grateful as they plowed through old favorites like “Breathing” and “October Nights.” Live performances made songs from Lights & Sounds much more endearing and genuine, especially ballads “City of Devils” and “Waiting Game.” Yellowcard soared through the first half of their set at a breakneck pace, only to fall victim to Key’s rambling intermission, an anecdote chronicling his thoughts on society, politics and such. While musicians need to have a voice, Key preached for far too long. Less talk, more rock dude.

Luckily, the band rebounded with a string of hits. Even though it hasn’t met expectations on the charts, “Rough Landing, Holly” sounded like a number one pop hit, with Sean Mackin’s violin spiraling alongside Ryan Mendez’s loud guitar riffs. The night came to a close with “Way Away” and “Lights and Sounds,” blanketing the band’s satisfied fans in pure power-pop bliss. Don’t believe everything you hear about Yellowcard, because this band is far from throwing in the towel.

Photo by Ashley Megan

All Time Low – Put Up Or Shut Up

Mediocrity. It’s a word, sadly, that gets thrown around and used quite a bit more than it should when it comes to music. For every great band out that, there are at least a hundred more that sound similar, but lack that panache (and talent) that is, well usually, required to succeed. It is on that point that I introduce to you Baltimore, Maryland’s very own All Time Low. I’m not even going to take the far too obvious route of making a pun out of the name of this band, so I’ll just let it speak for itself. All. Time. Low. Yep, that pretty much sums it up.

They’re coming forth on this high of a platform thanks to the guys over at Hopeless/Sub City Records, and this is their first release since putting out their iffy debut full-length The Party Scene on Emerald Moon Records. One of the better things I can say about this release is that it’s short; with 7 songs that don’t drag on for much longer than they should, the length at least works. But with the content though, things get a little fuzzy.

Zooming in on the coattails of Fall Out Boy and The Academy Is…, All Time Low try so desperately on Put Up Or Shut Up to emulate that all-too popular pop-punk sound to the point that the end product ends up being not all that, well, fun. It’s like they’re obviously not good enough to take themselves seriously, but they’re still trying far too hard to be ‘real’ musicians; when in all actuality at their best they’re nothing more than a group of guys thrashing out uninspired, sugary pop-punk.

I mean, with song titles like “The Girl’s A Straight-Up Hustler,” and “Coffee Shop Soundtrack,” who do these guys think they’re fooling? At the beginning of virtually every song, I kept waiting to hear “Am I more than you bargained for yet? Ohh…“; I’m not even kidding. It’s not that it’s necessarily all bad; it’s just blatantly uninspired, and wreaking of the fact that they’re trying just way too darn hard to make a style of music that should come easier. The first six tracks follow this pattern strongly, and the only silver lining on this disc is the closing number “Lullabies.” It’s actually listen able, and sadly feels like more of a fluke, as opposed to what the group is truly capable of.

If you worship at the altar of The Academy Is…, and the like, All Time Low just might appeal enough to you to be enjoyable, but if you’re up in the air on the genre, this record is most definitely not a good idea.

(Hopeless Records)

Set Your Goals – Mutiny!

Image is everything. It’s true. In the age of musical excess there is a great emphasis placed on the histrionic values of an artist and the music they craft. Once the bastion of music’s version of “letting go,” punk/hardcore has in recent years been overshadowed by the bleary-eyed, emotionally self-destructive nature of emo music and its counterparts. Embraced by mass media and more importantly, by a great number of the younger generation, its self-involved mantra has become the mouthpiece of youth- propelling the Hawthorne Heights and Taking Back Sundays of the world into the upper echelon of hypermarketability and magazine cover gloss. It’s at the point where AFI gets four different magazine covers in a given month spun with enough hyperbole to fill a black hole.

But there is hope, and it comes in the form of an all-plundering pirate ship named Set Your Goals. Who, in one fell sweep, conjure up the inspiring notions of optimism and a better future seemingly lost in the flood of mascara, slit wrists, and awful haircuts. Taking cue from their musical namesakes CIV and the early sounds of Saves the Day, New Found Glory, and to some extent, Lifetime, Eulogy’s Set Your Goals have come to, quite frankly, save the day. It’s melodic, accessible, but aggressive and urgent nonetheless. Their modus operandi is pasted clear as day in the title song from their debut full length- the truly exceptional “Mutiny.” It not only makes its case for song of the year, but also manages to capture the feelings of many a jaded listener in just a few lines. From the song’s opening salvo to the crunch line; “conformity has no authority,” it’s a barrage of jabs at what has sadly become the familiar. Culminating with the song’s underlining statement;

“…there’s too much business in this / I’m going back to my garage / I have been completely disenchanted.”

The song’s grandiose nature is a far cry from the rest of the album’s makeup however. And it’s a great thing too. It refuses to compromise to what makes a chart topping album, it refuses to be boxed in to a specific mold, and for once, a band isn’t interested in writing a triple-disc ego trip hell-bent on “revolutionizing” the industry. Mutiny’s strong point comes from some of the shorter songs on the album; the opening mission statement “Work in Progress” and the follow-up “We Do It For the Money, Obviously!” are a double hit of melodic/pop goodness that lays a perfect path for the rest of the album. It kicks into high gear with the intro/song combo “Dead Men Tell No Tales” and the aforementioned (did I mention how brilliant this song is?) “Mutiny.” They keep their melodic leanings in high gear on songs like “This Very Moment” and “Flight of the Navigator;” all sounding very crisp and vocally much-improved from their Reset EP. Which initially, was the biggest gripe with the band; their nasal-pitched vocals sounded flat on previous releases.

Set Your Goals are by no means the be-all, end-all of the much-maligned current status of many of their peers. They have all the pop accessibility of NFG, and the kids who like their hardcore on the lighter side of things, will surely find plenty to like. However, while boasting qualities for wider audiences, they are far from being comatose when it comes to striking a chord with the active type. Their New York hardcore influences shine through and while its mixed with some California-type sun, the results are compelling nonetheless. Mutiny! could very well fall on deaf ears, destined to be enjoyed by only a select few- but in the end, effort and the desire for change count, and Set Your Goals have achieved what so many have failed so miserably at; they’ve become important in a sea of unimportance. Who and what they change remains to be seen, but if you go by what they so proudly sing; “heroes have betrayed / we sing for better days,” it’s great to know that at least some of the kids are all right.  

(Eulogy Recordings)

Film Review: Pirates of the Caribbean 2 – Dead Man’s Chest

AARRGHH! Let’s dispense with the jolly yo-ho-hos and just get it out of the way; Pirates of the Caribbean 2 isn’t a great movie. Like most sequels, it suffers from a many great pitfalls and shortcomings that tend to be the result of a mish-mash of ideas thrown together in hopes of recapturing some of the magic that made the first one so great. The filmmakers appear to have built the second installment solely on Johnny Depp’s Keith Richards impression. And lets face it; Keith Richards isn’t all that interesting to begin with. For the majority of the movie, the success of the gags and bits rely on Depp’s ability to pull off another round of Captain Jack Sparrowisms and while there are still plenty of good laughs, there is only so much of it one can take.

Especially since it’s for 150 minutes.

150 minutes!

Even the last Lord of the Rings didn’t feel this long.

Nonetheless, while Dead Man’s Chest is rather bloated, it is still quite the summer experience. And if you, as a summer movie fan, can get past some of these shortcomings, will find a good time can be had.

The film picks off where the first left off- with Will Turner (Bloom) and Elizabeth Swann (Knightely) on the brink of marriage. Their plans for a blissful life are thwarted when Lord Beckett and his mighty East India Trading Company arrests them for aiding Sparrow and forces their hand into doing some dirty work. Faced with the thought of losing Elizabeth once again, our bold, bighearted (but decidedly pea-brained) junior pirate is pressed into action to recover the hidden secrets of Davy Jones. Cue said Sparrowisms and the usual pirate brouhaha for an absurdly long amount of time and you get Pirates of the Carribbean 2. Verbinski makes light work of story cohesion and focuses strongly on some good old fashion plundering. When the film picks up, it can be quite the riotous ride buoyed by some fantastic camera work, all-out visual chaos and at one point, the ingenious use of a giant water mill wheel. These hallmark scenes truly recapture the excitement and fun of the first film and are the very reasons one should go see it.

The aforementioned Davy Jones (Nighy) and his ill-doing crew are perhaps some of the ugliest, most detailed computer-assisted pirates one will ever come across. While the nogood-doers of the first (Captain Barbossa and company) were creepy in that supernatural, chilling sort of way, Davy Jones’ decidedly sealike band of rogues are far more on the slimy, “I think I’ll pass on the sushi” side. They themselves aren’t all too scary, but their all-consuming sea monster known as “the cracken” makes for some riveting sea-faring cinema (it’s all very 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Moby Dick-ean almost) as it consumes one vessel after another. And when the film goes big, it’s great. But when it tries to get close and intimate (especially the bizarrely awkward triangle between Sparrow, Swann, and Turner), well, lets just say the fire is categorically damp.

Shortcomings aside, there is enough in the film to justify the franchise’s success. And like The Two Towers of the Lord of the Rings series, Dead Man’s Chest is without a clear ending. It’s the ol’ “hey, now we’ve got you roped into seeing the third one” closer that leaves the filmgoer either excited for the third installment, or rather frustrated. It’s still quite the ride though, and if you can sit through its lengthy runtime and occasional lost of direction, Pirates of the Caribbean 2 can be the perfect swash-buckling getaway for the warm summer days.

AAARRGHH!

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN’S CHEST
Directed by: Gore Verbinski
Cast: Johnny Depp, Keira Knightely, Orlando Bloom, Bill Nighy

The Format – Dog Problems

The Format’s latest full-length, Dog Problems, came to me in quite an unusual way. Upon tearing the shipping envelope, a thick, near-tome of stapled papers tumbled off of my table, and into the floor at my feet. I was more than intrigued, so I started on it. Turns out the tome of paper was actually a letter penned by Format lead singer Nate Ruess that chronicles the near-defeating travails of getting Dog Problems made. It’s written in that intimate, unpretentious way you would write in your journal, or in an e-mail to a close friend. It’s fluid, it’s honest; and most importantly it’s real. It’s even been posted on Nate’s LiveJournal. It’s easy to see that it isn’t some sort of gimmick to try and garner some ‘indie cred’ or the like; it’s just a guy extremely ecstatic that he finally got to make the album that he wanted to; and is even more ecstatic that you actually want to listen to it. I’ve never met Nate Ruess; but darn do I like him.

Before getting my hands on Dog Problems, I was already fairly familiar with The Format. I had caught them a year or so ago on an opening bill; and liked them enough to pick up a copy of their flawed but more than enjoyable major label debut, Interventions and Lullabies. I had lost touch of them until recently, when I heard rumbles that they were working on a new record. After reading the letter, and the great adversity they received from their label Elektra to release it (the label didn’t-they eventually dropped the band); I knew that The Format had some songs that they wanted very much to be heard. The question that remained, though, was if the music was actually worth being heard? After all the heartbreak, the pain, and anguish to get this album made; was it really worth it?

The answer my friends, is yes. Yes, it is. Dog Problems is one of the best gems of indie-pop rock to ever be recorded. It’s a collection of driving, happy sing-alongs that you can’t help but fall in love with on the first listen. It’s a masterpiece from a band that, judging from their debut, you wouldn’t think capable of making a record that is this darn good. Their debut was promising, but Dog Problems makes good on that promise, and in spades. Every song oozes perfection and catchiness, but never in that annoying way. This is the type of record you could listen to for nearly ever; and never get tired of it. Look no further than the opening instrumentation of “Matches;” which has that simple, building, childishly innocent sound of a happy Saturday afternoon carnival to know full well that this isn’t the same band that made a splash back in late 2003 with the simple, catchy “The First Single (You Know Me).” This is a new band. This is a more mature band.

Dog Problems is the work of a couple of hard-working guys who have been through far more grief than they deserve. And, throughout it all, they kept resoundingly positive. This album is one of the most jovial I’ve ever heard. Heck; the tunes here make sugary hipsters The Thrills sound downright depressing. From the ridiculously awesome “Time Bomb,” to the bouncing, loose beat of the song you can’t help but sing-along to: “She Doesn’t Get It,” The Format are at not the top, but the epoch, of their game. When, on “Snails,” Nate sings: “Snails see the benefits / The beauty in every inch / Oh, why, why why why oh why / You’re quick to kiss / Baby, maybe, I spoke too soon / I’ll touch you once / You make the first move / Snails see the benefits.” It’s the small things, the simple connections that lead to limitlessly deep songwriting, which The Format has mastered to full hilt here on Dog Problems. This is a collection made up of sing-along tunes, in which, every time you sing along, you seem to find some new faucet of meaning. This is the type of record that many musicians strive their whole careers to make.

To The Format, I have this to say: congratulations, my friends. You’ve created what is sure to be a sleeper hit candidate on plenty of year-end-best lists this year; and deservedly so. Kudos.

(Nettwerk)

Rise Against – The Sufferer & The Witness

Imagine if you will, a happy little Chicago family; punk father, hardcore mother, and big brothers like Pennywise, Braid, and Bad Religion. This is where the little half-breed band Rise Against was born. This halfling is an example of musical evolution at its best, the infusion of some of the best aspects of two contrasting genres. From their dad they received a need to rebel, a social awareness, and a hardcore cutthroat basis for their sound. From their mother, they learned ways to cut out the melodic monotony so common in hardcore bands, and poetic, significant lyricism. Growing up in the late 90’s wasn’t easy for a little band in a big marketplace; luckily for Rise Against, they saw through the current fad of musical negativism and sought to bring a more positive feeling to their music, letting the world know that rebellion and depth don’t have to go hand in hand with despair, and defeating emo’s fault of simple, self-centered blind sadness. Don’t be fooled, however, although emo-ism is kept at a safe level throughout many of the songs, Rise Against have given us a fair number of relationship-centered/fairly tragic songs.

Now, seven years after its creation, Rise Against have released their fourth album, The Sufferer & The Witness. In the time they’ve been together, the band have matured nicely in terms of genuine musical ability and creativity. This, along with the novelty they present in sound and ideas, has earned the band a place at Geffen Records, on the Billboard charts, in the movie Lords of Dogtown, and in the CD collections of a generously growing fan base. Their most recently written album, Siren Song of the Counter Culture (Geffen, 2004), was responsible for three Billboard standing songs. It is a compilation of songs of society and relationships, ranging from nearly pure punk to almost emo, and everything in between. The Sufferer & The Witness follows the same line.

The album’s first single, “Ready to Fall,” is almost depressingly decent. As the band’s first single written and produced under Geffen, it follows the pattern of many of today’s songs singled out as representations of the entire album, and is little more than a tainted and conformed version of what the music was meant to be about. In the case of “Ready to Fall,” it’s one of the most emo, self centered, lyrically immature songs of the album. Even the guitar work is so dull and commonplace that this song could have no place except perhaps on MTV and radio stations that a call themselves “the WAVE.” As a background song on the CD, it is tolerable, almost enjoyable; as the pushed feature, however, it’s just not up to par.

This is a shame, because there are several truly good songs on this album. The crown comes close to the end with “The Good Left Undone,” a piece which successfully uses the band’s talents for both hardcore and melodic form of punk, and shows off the surprising versatility of vocalist Tim McIlrath’s scratchy voice with a mixture of non-grating but forceful screams and softer verses. Just before this song is “Roadside,” a slow, almost experimental piece with beautiful string and female vocal accompaniment. Almost too slow for any kind of general public recognition, it hits the listener like finding a twenty in a comfortable new pair of pants. Songs like “Bricks” and “Chamber the Cartridge” are enough to give us old Pennywise fans nostalgia, and others such as “Injection” and “Prayer of the Refugee” hit hard but leave an impression more simply than having been shaken. Few albums are perfect, however. Rise Against, in The Sufferer & The Witness at least, manage for the most part to maintain a strength in each song which contrast the weaker parts; for example, strong verses to divert attention from a mediocre chorus, excellent guitar work where vocals lack, superior vocals delivering trite lyrics. Because of this, the listener can walk away with a good feeling from any song.

On a whole, The Sufferer & The Witness is strong, hard hitting, and original. With a surprising mix of beauty, rebellion, and a hardcore attitude, it’s bound to make fans proud.

(Geffen Records)