Sunday, January 12, 2014

Waiting For The Dawn

     Waiting For The Dawn sets itself up on this bright sunny day featuring a drumset on the beach. I found the contradiction between the title and image interesting, and the theme endearing, so I picked it up on my last trip to the bargain bin. I later realized I was probably drawn to this album by the nostalgia of the band's name, The Mowgli's, which for me, being a 90's kid, invokes the classic Disney movie The Jungle Book where Mowgli is the main character's name. Though a beach and a jungle couldn't be more different.
     When I listened to the first song all I could think was 'this stuff sounds exactly like what they overplay on the radio.' Not necessarily a bad thing, just an observation. San Francisco is actually a fine song in my opinion, it just wouldn't take many listens for it to become hackneyed and played out. The second track was more or less the same, although here I noticed that there is a lot going on musically with different instruments and rhythms. This was also evident in the first song, however the way all the instruments work together makes the music sound quite simple so it is very easy to overlook its complexity; I have to give The Mowgli's props for that. Waiting For The Dawn's title track was fun to listen to, but it also sounded as if they were trying too hard to find a Black Keys single dominating guitar-riff sound. The fourth track, and just about everything after it, sounded like the soundtrack at the end of a romantic comedy where the lead actress smiles at the lead actor and with the reassuring upbeat music, the audience knows everything is going to work out okay. Traditionally, these moments in romantic comedies only last about 30 seconds, so it was a little dismaying to listen to 50 minutes of it. The fifth song reassured this even further because there was actual cheering as part of the song, complete with over-the-top, carefree whistling. Track six was a ballad where you kept expecting something to happen but it never did; it's just three and a half minutes of repetitiveness. The first six songs pretty much wrap up all the diversity in Waiting For The Dawn. Everything after that can be divided into one of those six categories. All in all, just your everyday average indie band, where back in 2003 I might be reveling in my find, but today certain moguls of their genre are given way too much airplay and there just isn't enough room for smaller up-and-coming bands like The Mowgli's. Sad, but true.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Fetch



     "Fetch" by Melt-Banana. Black cat, odd ghost things, spooky cave; I'm sold. I pop it in my computer to be greeted by an inconclusive resonance of bells and various other like noises, until about 30 seconds in where a lone guitar begins to emerge. I have high expectations for the climax of this build  up, so I listen in anticipation. After about a minute and 15 seconds a steady drumbeat and bassline join the scene. 30 seconds later a dynamic guitar riff comes in to intensify it right up to its peak, and then... I hear an instrument almost like a mouse attempting screamo. With this, I'm immediately evicted from my trance and made to question exactly what it is I'm listening to. In all my time of blindly listening to albums, I don't think I've ever been so unprepared for such an unpleasant surprise. Looking back I'd dub it Yoko Ono's experimental teenage years. 
     From there on Fetch neither got better or worse, my ears only got soarer. My only respite was the uncommon snippet of instrumental ruckus throughout the songs. This went on for forty minutes when I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel and heard silence. After listening to this all the way through, I had to do some research to figure out how Melt-Banana even got signed in the first place. Upon doing so, I learned that Melt -Banana is a Japanese noise rock band that started in the 90's. Surprisingly, they have a huge cult following and Fetch happens to be their 11th studio album, receiving close to five stars on iTunes. I'm at least astounded by this knowledge, and at most outraged at how the combination of sidewalk construction and female squawking could become so popular. But nevertheless, the only purpose this album could ever serve me is a guaranteed win in any "here, let me show you the worst music ever" contests.