My Mirror Speaks

So, look, I liked "Narrow Stairs". Loved it, in fact. I don't buy your cries of sell out, children. Those passionate screams for cred should be reserved for someone truly deserving, like, I don't know...Metallica...or Phillip Glass.

But as we all know, narrow stairs lead to open doors. So Death Cab is back with a new E.P. that basically consists of leftovers from "Narrow Stairs". Songs that fit in with their previous efforts. Not quite the shimmery pop sparkle of last year's L.P., these songs would have been out of place on that record but here sound like a cohesive batch of tunes to be enjoyed by old fans and new. 'Nuf said.

It is worth noting, I think, that I believe this record is the end of the first chapter of Death Cab's career. I have it on good authority that Ben Gibbard's secretly recording a new L.P. that will take him and the band in a very new, very radical direction.
Tentatively titled "How I Lost 30 lbs., Got Contacts And Married A Hot Actress" (kinda clunky, I know), Ben's new batch of songs reflect his inner thoughts on married life. Song titles like, "So, What Do You Want For Dinner?"," I've Got 'Lost' Piled 3 High On My DVR" and a twenty minute, mostly acoustic, Hank Williams-type recitation called "How Do I Talk Zooey And Her Sister Emily Into A Three Way (Thoughts While Mowing The Lawn)" show that Ben has (temporarily?) abandoned lonely single guy music with a more mature lonely married guy slant. Open Door E.P. - B+ My Fantasy Ben Gibbard L.P. - A-


Superchunk - Leaves In the Gutter E.P. 

It seems like yesterday, must have been the mid-nineties.

When we were younger, my brother and I would find some great record ("Jimmywine Majestic", "Slanted And Enchanted", "This Is Where The Strings Come In") and after a few spins an impromptu air guitar concert (this was your old man's "Guitar Hero", kids) would inevitably spark to life. My Ron Wood to his Keef. We never needed much money when we were young, this we could do for hours. Sweet, huh?

Well, I suppose it changes the story a bit to admit we were in our mid-twenties, living in a studio apartment and that these "shows" would usually take place at 2 a.m., often during the work week. With many, many empties serving as our loyal fans ("Thanks for coming out tonight, Miller High Life!"). Mr. Robinson (upstairs neighbor), an uninvited Charlie Watts whose "drum solos" were meant to motivate us to keep rockin' (okay, he meant "shut the hell up", whatever). Good times.

I mention all this because this week the "band" got back together. As with all reunions, someone couldn't make it. Scheduling conflicts, they said. My brother, living three hours away. Mr. Robinson, assumed dead.

This time 2 a.m. was 10 p.m. There were far less empties in attendance. The loud stereo speakers replaced with ear buds. The vinyl record, now an mp3.

When I tell you that listening to this new Superchunk record (their first in eight years, their best in fifteen) I was brought to tears, don't think less of me. I've got a great life. A woman who loves me and a roof over our heads. Can't get better if you tried. But something in that first track (the brilliant, yes, I'm prone to hyperbole, but brilliant never the less, "Learned To Surf") that transported me back to those simpler times. Late nights at the bar, hangovers at work. A time when bills were not a worry, layoffs not much of a problem, Recession, a word never said. This was an age when a seven inch single felt like it could save your life. And, if I'm honest with you, it did.

But times is tough all over. The economy is in the shitter. If you ain't lost your job yet, watch out. War is still waged. "Change" seems like it was a nice idea that never went anywhere (just like "Dollhouse"). And I can't think of any better reason to get a twelve pack, download "Leaves In The Gutter" (i-tunes has it for $3.99, Superchunk is recession proof!) and dust off "Stained And Lit". Along with the air guitar. Brother Brooks, get thy ass here. Leaves In The Gutter E.P. - A


Doves - Kingdom Of Rust

If Coldplay are a poor man's U2, what does that make Doves.

The Manchester foursome are back with "Kingdom Of Rust" and what began as a simple band making simple music has morphed into a simple band convinced they are a stadium act. There are some good tunes on this record, but they get muddled up in the production (John Leckie, I'm looking at you). The guitar "solos" (if that's what you want to call them, more like "the sound a tuneless guitar makes as it's dragged across gravel") are self indulgent and, frankly, embarrassing (oh god, I watch too much "Idol"). The lyrics are often silly and amateurish. And enough with the keyboards, already. I do like Jez Williams' voice, though. He reminds me of Mark Sandman a little. Which makes me sad, so I'm gonna go listen to Treat Her Right and cry.

And say what you will about Chris Martin and company, but they have elevated themselves in a way that Doves simply can not. Coldplay know how to steal from the right people. They would never be caught taking a stab at "re-visioning" the old Blondie chestnut "Rapture." Doves, here on "Compulsion", are guilty of that charge, too. As everyone knows, Coldplay only steal from the best. If Kate Bush doesn't get royalties for "Speed Of Sound" she needs to get a better lawyer.

But, maybe, the first sentence in this review is all wrong.

History of British Stadium Rock 101 clearly determines that Doves are to Coldplay who are to Radiohead who are to Oasis who are to the Stone Roses who are to the Smiths who are to...what? U2? I think not. The Smiths never played any stadiums, did they? And what about the Cure? That whole New Romantic thing my brother loved so much? Blur? And who came first anyway, Oasis or Radiohead? Are Radiohead even British? Human? Do we count "Pablo Honey" or start with "The Bends"? The whole theory is flawed. Fuck it. None of them wrote a song as good as "Waterfront". So let's start there. Simple Minds are to...

Kingdom of Rust - B-