Mogwai's Ravenous Sound

Right from the first note of Mogwai’s latest effort, Rave Tapes, no time is spared in hitting you with what they do best. On opening track “Heard About You Last Night”, a distant, perhaps backwards looping, male voice floats into audible range before being covered by a harmonic, "xylophonic" melody set to an as yet unheard beat. After a few moments of build up, the song kicks into what you want/expect from Mogwai. A slow and steady beat with shimmering cymbals and occasional flourishes played in perfect time with brooding yet hopeful guitar lines. An atmosphere heightened by the addition of well-placed keys and extra layers of guitar. Rave Tapes, Mogwai’s second full-length album for Sub Pop records (and something-teenth overall release factoring in live, remix and soundtrack work), displays the core of Mogwai’s sound brilliantly. A solid lp with only one or two momentary dips from its mile high quality throughout. Rave Tapes is an album that creates nostalgia for Mogwai’s past triumphs and reminds the listener why this band was so important to them in the first place.

Vocals have taken a backseat on Rave Tapes. Only three out of the ten tracks on the album include the human voice and one of those instances, “The Lord Is Out of Control”, has a heavily affected robotic take on the matter. Of the three, the track with the most obtrusive “vocals” is “Repelish” which also employs the use of an alternate vocal option in the form of audio samples. These samples consisting of a religious figure pontificating on the supposed backwards messages on Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway To Heaven” while also name dropping Mick Jagger and Alice Cooper for good measure. The last of the three, “Blues Hour”, is the only true vocal moment on the album. A much welcomed song on Rave Tapes that recalls a classic Mogwai sound while also sharing certain qualities with My Bloody Valentine, Codeine and Low. Through minimal use of vocals, Rave Tapes is able to spotlight the best attributes of the band in a way their last few records didn’t realize. While Hardcore Will Never Die… and The Hawk Is Howling are records that have great moments, they both lack the overall presence and immediacy of Rave Tapes.

Mogwai have a signature sound that is so identifiable that most stereotypical indie-rockers would be able to recognize one of their songs with just a short audio clip. That is fine. Mogwai sink or swim in the details of their work. The wrapping is allowed to change from song to song and year to year but the contents therein remain constant. Which is why Mogwai were initially accused of being Slint devotees part and parcel on their way up to the peaks of indie-rockdom in the late-nineties, yet seem more indebted to the band Trans Am in 2014 than any band from Louisville. Regardless, that type of scrutiny no longer applies, Mogwai are now an institution of their own with bands accused of doing the same to them.

Without the need for sodium pentothal, most every Mogwai fan will tell you they want a new album along the lines of their first records, a Come On Die Young Team of sorts. With all honesty, Rave Tapes comes close to delivering on that wish by hitting some of the highs on those lps. That is lofty praise given that Come On Die Young is their undisputed masterpiece. It is and will remain their defining document to history. Young Team is more the product of a band bursting with energy and potential trying to do everything all at once. It’s a special record. Having witnessed them open for Pavement in Providence, Rhode Island in 1997 while on tour for that record, it was easy to agree with Stephen Malkmus’ proclamation in Melody Maker magazine that year that Mogwai were “The best band of the 21^st Century”. These early records alone could be another band’s entire career with more than enough ammo to allow for success and touring for years to come. Thankfully, Mogwai didn’t rest on their laurels and, with each new lp, they tried to expand their sound and reflect new influences. Along the way, their stellar live shows cemented their reputation. A consistently visceral and powerful experience that pummels the audience with sound waves which both simultaneously pass right through and rattle flesh and bone at the same time.

A signature of this new record seems to be the heavy use of synthesizers. Upon first listen, it’s an obvious fact that jumps out of the speakers. Due to recently being in attendance at one of their shows, my immediate thought was some of these songs share a common bond with the band, Zombi. A two man project out of Pittsburgh whose sound is synth-heavy with bass and drum accompaniment. Their name and sound inspired by the soundtrack to the horror classic Dawn of the Dead by the legendary Italian prog-rock band, Goblin. Perhaps a valid connection as it was recently announced that the opening act for Mogwai’s US tour in 2014 will be Majeure which is the solo project of one-half of Zombi. As Mogwai’s latest effort is mainly instrumental, the synth contributions tend to stand out on most tracks giving Rave Tapes a soundtrack-like tone at times. Not surprising, it is a very comfortable genre for Mogwai given their prior experiences (Zidane, The Foundation & Les Revenants). In almost all cases, the keys on Rave Tapes make the songs more engaging by adding everything from an ominous and unconscious undertow to outright vocal-like melodic lines. In particular, the melodic synth that sits on top of the song “Remurdered” demands the listener’s attention with its almost classic video game feel. A sound that would transport anyone of a certain age back to their childhood days of playing Nintendo’s RC Pro-Am while probably sitting dangerously close to the TV set.

Rave Tapes is a release that seems to find the band hitting a creative stride while doing exactly what they want. A record made as much for themselves as for the great unwashed audience and critics at large. This record creates an atmosphere, a mood that allows the listener to connect with the songs- something that is more easily achieved this time around than with their past few releases. Point blank, Mogwai have succeeded in keeping themselves relevant, vital and undeniable in nearly their twentieth year as a band. The best part is- as Mogwai’s strengths are just as powerful on stage as in the studio- one of the most exciting prospects of this album is getting to hear these songs performed live on their upcoming tour this spring.

True True Widow

Momentum is in True Widow’s favor. Three full-length albums deep into their musical journey, their trajectory remains in an upward direction. Fittingly, the rate in which they’re making this ascent is at the speed this band does best, slow to medium paced. If forced to make comparisons, True Widow’s sound seems to lie somewhere in the middle of a Dylan Carlson, Jesse Sykes and Baroness triangle. Meaning that you will find heavy-handed riffs, rhythmic, consistent and restrained drum patterns with shimmering cymbals, and vocals more spoken than sung. Within this construct of sound full of dark atmospherics and glittering subtleties, it’s almost surprising how very groove based the music becomes when they discover a riff or a pattern. Consciously or not, feet, fingers and head will be tapping and bobbing along with the majority of their songs.   

Even though each individual song has it’s flourishes and climaxes, True Widow’s previous albums taken as a whole come across as monolithic slabs of slow, plodding dirges with vocals that live deep in reverb and indifference. Circumambulation, their third and latest offering, finds the band going ever so slightly in a different direction. By no coincidence, this record also finds True Widow on their biggest label yet- Relapse Records, a metal powerhouse with a Schwarzenegger-like distribution arm home to the early catalogs of stoner metal heavies like High On Fire and Mastodon. Now in the hands of an established company, True Widow appears to be showing their hand in trying to reach a larger audience. It could be said that their once glacial pace is starting to feel the effects of global warming. The majority of songs on Circumambulation find a decent pace which build to an almost quickened tempo at times. Vocals are out front just a bit more with guitarist/vocalist D.H. Phillips and bassist/vocalist Nicole Estill harmonizing quite a bit esp. over two of the poppiest songs of this album and their career, “H:WR” and “Lungr”.

The key to taking advantage of this larger pool of ears is in the hands and vocal chords of their female lead, Nicole Estill. Her extra dimensions, while always a part of their sound from record one, seems to take flight on Circumambulation in particular. The aforementioned “Lungr” and “Fourth Teeth” are standout tracks that spotlight Estill’s contributions even though her background and shared vocals and ethereal yet solid bass lines lift the entire album. The longest song “Trollstigen” finds itself right in middle of this nine track album serving as the slow, chugging core of Circumambulation. A song that also features Estill on lead vocals, an airy distant quality to her delivery, amongst a very laid back melody that tends to find it’s heavy footing at all the right times. This song may be the essence of True Widow, a construction framed out of drummer Slim Starks unique understated, consistent style complimented by the guitar and bass interplay of Phillips and Estill creating a stringed blanket of sound in which handclaps, keys and effects easily find their way under. The reverbed vocals floating over the top in either a drawn out, subdued male voice or an otherworldly, confident female voice. The juxtaposition of these two voices together create the band’s most transcendent moments and may be what eventually gets them to their desired location on the rock ladder of success, the rung where art supports life instead of vice-versa.

While Circumambulation is an interesting album name on its own, the meaning behind this title may be the biggest indicator of the contents of this album and this band’s intended direction. Webster’s (or anyone, really) defines circumambulation as “to circle on foot esp. ritualistically”. Wikipedia, the people’s encyclopedia, defines it as “the act of moving around a sacred object or idol”. Both definitions seem to imply- if not ooze- religious imagery or, at least, ceremonial and sacrificial actions. In this case, actions are done repeatedly in a repetitive pattern for a duration based on strength of body and soundness of mind. A concept that any band on its fourth release (3 lps and 1 ep) with a few tours behind its belt must feel some kinship. Their rock muse at the center of their literal and figurative circles, always respectfully aware of its placement as it determines their trajectory.

True Widow is a band that has day jobs. Through some online research, it can be determined that guitarist D.H. Phillips is a furniture making carpenter by trade and bassist Nicole Estill is a make-up artist for TV and stage productions. Slim remains mysterious but I would imagine he is roughly in the same boat. This fact seems to have made touring inconsistent and in blocks. Mostly European jaunts that last about a month or opening for other bands in the US for a few weeks at a time. In this way, True Widow may be a band that defines true independent musicians in this day and age. Having a promising future in the music industry has to find its place in a full life fighting for equal time, energy and resources with other careers, responsibilities and demands. Thinking about this, it becomes obvious that True Widow exists out of a deep-seated drive and passion to keep a dream alive. Mind you, a dream that has received validation as exemplified by their journey from a small, local Dallas label to the upper echelon of non-major label life in just under six years. Along the way, honing their sound, skills and details of their craft so that each new lp is more confident and open than the last.

While a competent studio band whose songs have a gracefully layered and sculpted sound, True Widow has also come a long way in their live sound. The feats of the studio create recorded heights dependent on atmosphere and a certain thickness in texture which can be hard for a rock trio to recreate in a live setting. At a small club in Brooklyn a few years back on True Widow’s tour for their second album, As High As The Highest Heavens…, their live sound was battling a spotty PA and board and they were being absolutely bloodied. Off key harmonies, thin guitar sound and pacing issues were enough to disappoint even their biggest fans. As a first timer to their live show, it nearly destroyed my interest in True Widow. However, the records kept bringing me back erasing that show from my mind. So much so, that I ventured out to see them again this past year opening a sold out Chelsea Wolfe show at the much bigger Bowery Ballroom in Manhattan. While I’ll never be sure if that first show in Brooklyn was a failure due to the venue, an off night by the band or if they just weren’t a great live band at that point, the Bowery show was a revelatory 45 minute set where execution finally met expectation. It was a show that was confirmation of a band becoming whole, of a band maturing over time and slowly but surely still climbing with plenty of road ahead.

The Once and Future Drones

Australia’s The Drones make music out of a necessity, never by choice and always with urgency. These are not songs created in collaboration with hit producers meant to elicit singing at the top of target audience’s lungs in their car on a warm summer day.  They're not even here to put listeners in a halfway decent mood. The Drones' sound lurks in the dark corners of life’s crawl spaces; lying in wait amongst twisted shards of noise and unhinged feedback but never more than a day's journey from the traditions of the downtrodden balladeers and country tinkling depressives who formerly occupied the same space. A slippery slope of a path to travel; too far in any direction and the result is more of a mission statement than a shot at entertaining an audience. Still, the parameters of their art are well within the confines of your typical rock song structure- walking in the shadows of Neil Young, Woody Guthrie, Nick Cave and any other guy with a guitar willing to speak his mind. Bottom line, The Drones have something to get off their chest and whether you listen to it or not doesn’t seem to make much difference to them.

The noises that compromise their latest output I See Seaweed are birthed from rock’s showroom- drums, guitars, bass and piano. As in the case for all bands, distinctions in sound output start with the hands, hearts and minds touching those instruments. The Drones as of Seaweed are now a five piece whose energies are focused through the center of their musical storm, Gareth Liddiard. He being the singer, guitarist, main songwriter and open wound to the world who takes in all the darkness, injustice, tyranny, and discontentment he can handle and lets it bleed through his expressive guitar and over-enunciating vocals and affected yelps. The core of the band is formed along with his chosen partner while on this immoral coil, Fiona Kitschin, through her distinctive bass lines and backing vocals. Much like an Australian Georgia Hubley to Liddiard’s Ira Kaplan where one without the other on stage is a missed opportunity to hear either’s full potential. Complimenting these two are long time drummer with a solo folk career of his own, Mike Noga, second guitarist Dan Luscombe who found his true calling once inserted into The Drones line up a couple albums back and longtime, part-time keyboard player Steve Hesketh now a full time accredited member.

The Drones seventh album I See Seaweed is a collection of eight new songs with six of those clocking in over six minutes long. At his best, Liddiard needs that time to set a tone/atmosphere, build tension and then rip it open with glorious guitar laden relief. The fact that three quarters of the songs on this record allow this formula to play out is great news for current Drones fans. However, the most accessible and radio-ready of their songs are usually 4 minutes or under usually opening up on guitar going full-bore with melodic expressive vocal lines and accompanying layers of mimicking guitar or piano following the established melody. “I Don’t Ever Want To Change” off Gala Mill being the blueprint for these songs as well as a live staple always finding a place in their set. While Seaweed is lacking in these types of tracks, it does include the song “I Could Stand In Your Moat” as a representation of their latest attempt to try and capture any traditional sense of success. A very catchy song with great energy and lyrical imagery, it would seem to be the obvious choice for the first single.  Interestingly, the band instead chose “How To See Through Fog” as the first single, a slow burner with a gentle sway and moments of intrigue but lacking the immediacy of blistering guitars and a quickened pace. That being said, it’s not a bad song at all just an odd choice to represent the album aside from the fact that it taps out at a friendly 4-minutes in length. A restriction that most likely kept many album high points from being selected as a single including the epic title track, “Laika” whose overly repeated phrase “half a pound of sugar” will stay with you until it makes you uncomfortable or the closer “Why Write A Letter You Would Never Send” which leaves the album on a K2-like peak with no valleys in sight.

As much as I would like to admit that they do not, Liddiard’s lyrics can go right over my head sometimes. Being that he is also from a country with roots in the English monarchy and the colonization of unknown lands, we share a certain sensibility (and language). However, our cultural touchstones and local histories do not always overlap. In order to completely follow his lengthy stories and poems set to music, a bit of internet searching may be required. A fact that could speak to why this band may not be on most people’s radar as of this past release. Luckily and deservedly so, things appear to have gone The Drones way in their homeland of Australia circa 2006 after the release of their album, Wait Long By The River…, which netted them critical acclaim and polling popularity. However, the American market has remained elusive to them for many years now. After a promotional push by then record label, All Tomorrow’s Parties, for their most produced and approachable album, Havilah, The Drones decided to use their momentum in seemingly odd ways. Gareth Liddiard put his efforts into writing, recording and releasing a solo album, Strange Tourist. A haunting and bare bones record which showed a more vulnerable side to Liddiard’s music in its stark approach with up front vocals and acoustic guitar played with skilled and emotional hands. A short time later an lp/dvd package, A Thousand Mistakes, was released which spotlighted the band performing greatest hits live in a studio.

Last year, in 2013, The Drones reemerged with Seaweed containing their first new songs since 2008’s Havilah. Ever a shifting, mysterious entity, the band self-released this effort through their own website ala My Bloody Valentine’s own 2013 surprise lp MBV. In the five years between albums, it would appear that The Drones have found a certain contentment in the size of the audience they reach, an understanding of their place within the pantheon of recorded music and an overall maturity that comes with age and perspective. To this point, it would appear that Seaweed’s tour has included only Australian dates and the famed European summer festival circuit. No dates in the USA or Canada have been played in 2013 or have yet to appear on their itinerary for 2014. A real shame as I was able to hear many of Seaweed’s songs live at 2013’s Primavera Festival in Barcelona and would love to hear them in a proper indoor venue.

However, I kinda get it. From my own personal history of seeing The Drones live over the years, it would not be wrong to say they lack a ravenous following in the New World. My first live experience being a 2006 or 2007 in-store at a Brooklyn record shop housing a bar in it’s backroom on a bill with another underappreciated Australian band, The Devastations. An evening show with equipment and multiple band members crushed into a corner playing to a crowd of maybe 15 people. All of whom would have been seemingly interested in the show if not for 2 of those 15 having a lover’s quarrel that resulted in thrown glasses and loud gestures. The band having their eyes on those two just as much as the “crowd” as all were at risk of catching a scotch tumbler off the forehead.

 The Drones association with All Tomorrow’s Parties (ATP) gave them their highest level of exposure. ATP’s run into financial ruin included staging a 3-day music experience in upstate New York annually for three years in a row, The Drones on the ATP record label were invited to play 2 of those 3 years. Attentive target audiences stuck in a secluded, rotting resort ala the Shining waiting around to be entertained. Unfortunately for The Drones, their first year there saw a solid performance sparsely attended. An early Saturday set time in the main room deemed too early for the overly drunken masses who opted for late night escapades during their first night at “sleep-away camp”. Their second year saw them getting the opening slot of the very first day playing their album Wait Long by the River… in its entirety to a two thirds empty room. The majority of the attendees still waiting in will call lines, hotel check-in lines or sitting in traffic on the small upstate roads leading to the festival. By the time the headliner, The Jesus Lizard, played that night it was filled to the brim with music nerds. I can still remember seeing the band packing up their merch after about an hour pawning their wares so as to get into a car although a lot more festival was yet to be played. An air of dejection enveloping their every action as each door of their compact car shut and took them out into the nearly autumnal air and just about turned fall foliage leaving behind a mountain of nearly acquired new fans and just about turned converts to their sound and vision.

Beyond those ATP weekends, the Drones have only played the same two venues when coming through New York City in recent years, the tiny “Pianos” in Manhattan and the cramped downstairs room of “Union Hall” in Park Slope, Brooklyn.  These tours so small in scope that the on-stage banter between songs at their last Pianos show was mostly between Gareth and Dan discussing whether they should go out and feed the parking meter for their van. While consistent, playing the same venues also means zero growth in crowd size over multiple years in a big city where aspiring bands hope to get the largest crowds of the whole tour. With these same two venues staring them in the face for this new tour, the thought of going all the way “up over“ from “down under” for the human equivalent of table scrapes would give most intelligent people pause as well. This fact compounded by the knowledge that larger audiences await in their own country for far less hassle. Face it; The Drones don’t need America regardless of how we feel about them. I have no doubt they will eventually make it back to the east coast of the North American continent but, when that does happen, it’s going to be on their terms and at their convenience. Don’t just trust me though. The wisdom of David Yow has already spoken the truth about this band back in 2009 during The Jesus Lizard’s headlining ATP set following The Drones opening slot in the festival. The Jesus Lizard’s front man’s paraphrased comment between songs that were just destroying the drunken minds and stage diving bodies of those in attendance was something in the tone and sentiment of “Almost all of you dumb asses missed the best band that’s gonna play this festival, The Drones. They were fucking incredible.”