Pictured:  Lackthereof asks not indie-rock-weirdies can do for you, but what you can do for indie-rock-weirdies.
Lackthereof is an awesome project from Danny Seim (Menomena).  It sounds sort of like what Primitive Radio Gods would sound like if they were still around, and not just a one hit wonders from the mid-nineties.  There’s bass heavy, drum heavy, mid-tempo jams with bittersweet melodies all wrapped around some sing-song melodies that make you shake your sarcasm-hardened groove thang.  Yes, thang.

There’s a close enough tie between Lackthereof and Menomena to occasionally get a “Oh yeah, he was in THAT band” moment, but enough of a distance to give Lackthereof an identity all its own.  Anyway, Lackthereof is on Barsuk now, which will hopefully get Seim the attention he so desperately deserves.  At last count there were something like 1100 friends on his myspace.  I routinely get adds from fat kids playing sevendust covers with more friends than that.  C’mon America let’s get with the program.

Last November is the best track on Lackthereof’s new album, Your Anchor.  It bounces along with minimal bass and organ until the end of the song, when we get some relative explosiveness (and even a key change).  Anyway, find this album if you get the chance.  It goes great with a pog collection and a half liter of Surge.

Lackthereof - Last November

Pictured:  Everest.  Stealing the souls of hitchhikers since 2005.
Everest is an alt-country band from California.  They sound like what would happen if Michael Stipe took over The Cardinals and got a severe case of catchy-awesome-hook syndrome.  It’s all there, the build ups, the sweet melodies, the twangy guitar, and the organ.  I have a feeling this album is only going to get better as we approach the melancholy months of Fall, but even as it stands now, I can’t get enough.  There’s something to be said for a band that doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but does something that’s been done before in such a novel concept that it seems fresh and new.  I don’t know how deft of a sentence that is, but it’s heartfelt.

Rebels in the Roses is the heartbeat of Everest’s record.  It is all crashing guitars, melodrama, and heart fluttering tremolo.  Everest never loses sight of the goal of music, to make you feel things more deeply than previously thought possible.  You might crinkle your nose at the idea, but Everest takes your crinkle and busts right through it.  Seriously, just listen to the bridge and I won’t have to explain.  Good job California, you finally gave me an emotion besides “happy” and “excited about surfing.”

Everest - Rebels In The Roses

Pictured:  White Hinterland can play your next “brown out” party.  
White Hinterland recently played a living room in Eau Claire at our friend’s house.  It was, in one word, incredible.  In two words it would be, “incredibly awesome”, or maybe, “damn dude!”  Anyway, they put on a helluva show.  We wanted to take a video of it for the website, but unfortunately for us they play in almost total darkness.  We could have turned our night vision on, but did you really want to watch concert footage that looks like a Paris Hilton sex tape?  We didn’t think so.

Anyway, here’s the next best thing, a track from White Hinterland’s newest album, Phylactery Factory, “Dreaming of the Plum Trees.”  The track sort of sways back and forth in the breeze, like a Jobim fever dream.  The piano jolts and jives and generally creates perfect summer noise while lead singer, Casey Dienel cutes her way through a song about people buying cigarette boats and running around in bare feet.  Yeah, I know, someone wrote ANOTHER song about buying a cigarette boat.

I feel like the less I say about this, the better.  Just listen on your ipod, stereo, or whatever with your feet up and your nose in freshly cut grass.  It’s what life is all about.

White Hinterland - Dreaming of the Plum Trees

Pictured: Geri X may, in fact, be rocking a six string bass. I’m not sure, I sort of lost count after four. Anyway, another Peervalidated first!
Geri X is another great band that we played with on tour. If I’m honest with myself (which I think is the best policy for all the parties involved), I would say that I was a bit *ahem* skeptical when I heard their band name, which sounded to me more like an X-Man from the mid nineties than a typical indie-folk rock bard. Luckily for me (and you) I was wrong.

Geri X sounds like what Regina Spektor and Fiona Apple would sound like if they had a magical baby that they raised with a profound hope in the human race. Geri’s vocals tilt and lilt along the backdrop of organs, acoustic guitars, and good old fashioned hand claps. She alternates between songs about hopeful love and the end of the world. This dichotomy might seem a bit odd on paper, but it works out in the best possible way.

“3,000 Lines of Defense” is the opener on their record, Anthems of a Broken Heart. Sounds like a Portishead folk song. Yeah, weird. Anyway, if you like this sort of thing (and who doesn’t, really?) than this is for you. Yes, you. Check out their ambitious tour schedule to see when they’ll be playing around your little ear drums.

Geri X - 3,000 Lines Of Defense

Pictured: Carl Spidla. Reinforcing every indie-kid stereotype in one photo. If only it were a polaroid.

My least favorite part about writing for Peer Validated is that more often than not I have to find music on other blogs before I can post it. Basically, I have to steal from other sites, and I feel really bad about it. Sometimes I can convince myself that it’s worth it, mostly when what I’m stealing is really, really good, like re-posting something that was once completely original isn’t half as bad as keeping it to myself. This live recording of Carl Spidla’s Blackfly Rag, originally posted on my very favorite site, Saidthegramophone.com, is that kind of thing.

The rolling, finger-picked song, both smooth and ragged in the same way that Devendra Banhart can be at times, the roomy recording, leaving every breath and foot shuffle, every creaking chair, Spidla’s wise, caring voice and domestically conflicted lyrics, “I pretend to be myself and you pretend to be the woman I love. My whole heart is coming apart at the place it meets…,” are all just too good to not post…again.

Carl Spidla - Blackfly Rag

This song helps me enjoy my summer nights. This song and patio furniture. And rum.

The name of this band puts me off, but their name is the only thing that puts me off about the French Kicks. There is not a song I would skip on their new disc, but for now I will focus on “Love in the Ruins”, which is great in context or as a standalone, or an introduction to the French Kicks. I guess that’s called a single.

Is that a ukulele in the beginning? Whatever it is, I like it because it’s misleading. Kind of a switcheroo the Kicks are pulling on us. “Love in the Ruins” is not a fast song by most standards, but it does move along at a pace that I didn’t expect upon hearing the opening chords. Which is weird, because the tempo doesn’t actually change at all. Music.

The bass part comes in halfway through the verse and is just sexy. When I flipped through the liner notes for Swimming, I noticed that they thank the Walkmen. I can hear that Brooklyn stuff in the bass track. Surely I’m not the only one who lumped all those Brooklyn bands together and got sick of all of them at the same time, but the French Kicks are breathing new life into the scene. It’s not annoying to me anymore.

The chorus, the chorus. The chorus represents the thing I love most about this band: laziness. The vocal tracks just sound so lazy and slurred and it’s fantastic. They really have the loose-feel thing down to a science. Which is weird, because it’s like a paradox… right?

One more thing I would like to note is the verse that cuts the bass out again. There a lot of moments on the record that work because of spaces, silences, subtractions. This is one of them. So good.

French Kicks - Love In The Ruins

Go to the French Kicks’ , or their MySpace.

Pictured: One of the only pictures on I, Torrents myspace. Please let it not be their practice space.
I, Torrent is a local (Eau Clairian) band that kicks out bass heavy, albini-induced rockers. They’ve played a couple of shows around here, most notably opening for Alan Sparhawk’s band du jour, The Retribution Gospel Choir. These guys are all seasoned vets of the EC scene, and it is entirely visible in their live shows, which sound nearly as polished as their new EP.

The track, “She’s an Invisible Ship” stands out in my mind as a testament to what heavy music done right can be. Sean Lau’s vocals growl through the whole sh-bang of chorusy guitars and ultra low bass. I’m still not sure who she is, but evidently she’s one helluva sinkin’ ship. Look for the highlight of the song at the 1:51 mark, which is as good as anything I’ve heard in the past couple of months.

I think that sometimes all of us get caught up in these flavor of the month bands, and forget that there have been people making really quality music for the better part of a decade. It’s sometimes nice to hear what that sounds like, if only for the fact that I someday hope someone listens to something I’ve done. PSYCH. Just kidding, but that got a little heart felt at the end, and we can’t have that.
Look for I, Torrent to play shows in the midwest this summer.

I, Torrent - She’s An Invisible Ship

These guys just played in Vancouver with one of my favorite local bands, Winning. And I didn’t go because I didn’t feel like it. I’m an idiot.

Yes, this song is called “A Tell-Tale Penis”. Oh well.

Some things I like about it:
a) ride cymbal in the verses
b) triple guitar attack
c) “It’s the alaaaarm clock”
d) when the drums cut out after the chorus
e) the ending

Nothing more need be written. Is that a proper sentence? Am I mailing this post in? No. Listen.

Joan Of Arc - A Tell-Tale Penis

Click around Joan of Arc’s website, see them on tour (Maritime date in Milwaukee), and buy Boo! Human.

Pictured: Craig Finn, soon to take over color commentary for the Minnesota Twins.

Usually I wouldn’t call out our readers’ comments, but the last time we wrote about The Hold Steady it only got one. One big, fat negative comment. “Aaaaaaaannnnndy! Don’t write about the Hold Steady! Nobody likes the Hold Steady. Hold Steady. Betty.” Wrong you are, Betty.

Craig Finn and Co. released the first single from their upcoming album, Stay Positive, today. It’s a three-and-a-half minute long jam called Sequestered in Memphis that’s more E-Street and full of crowd participation that we’ve heard from them before. There’s tons of organ, big finger-noodle guitar licks and plenty of gaudy saxophones. It’s really nothing revolutionary for The Hold Steady, actually it’s a fairly straight-forward rock out song in comparison, but it’s packed full of the same irresistible, dirty energy and drunken emotions. Nobody but Betty can wait for this album.

The Hold Steady - Sequestered In Memphis

Listen while enjoying your favorite beverage.

‘Martha Ann’, the single from David Karsten Daniel’s new album ‘Fear of Flying’, is two minutes of evidence that everyone should write shorter songs. There is nothing innately wrong with long songs, but in my estimation it is better to leave them hanging, quality over quantity. A song doesn’t always need four identical choruses. Succinct pop songs please.

I have a couple pages outlined in my head about the lyrical content, but that seems a bit contrary to the concept of brilliance in brevity. With hints from the rest of the album (a song entitled ‘Oh, heaven isn’t real’) and some transcribed lyrics, my best guess is that ‘Martha Ann’ is about what happens when you die - nothing or everything, and the difficulty in relating either belief to someone who doesn’t buy it (”from where I stand there is no light that you and your man are walking to”). This is somehow satisfactorily expressed in eight lines.

I’m not sure who made it official, but saxophones are cool again and DKD knows it. Not when used in a tv commercial quality series of ridiculous overtone laden licks as a hammed up solo, because whole notes and shifting harmonies is clearly where it’s at. The aforementioned horns, hints of mellotron flute, strings, and swelling filling organ add depth to what is a fairly simple and straightforward song. The use of melody in the ending guitar solo is perfect and memorable. I sometimes catch myself whistling the solo. It’s not a shredder nor should it be. It’s been said, by my roommate and I’m sure by others, that female vocal harmony is almost always awesome. Yup, basically, and especially here. The astute and possibly headphone wearing listener will also appreciate the more subtle left channel male harmony.

This is the front runner in my mind for single of the year. It delivers on all levels.

David Karsten Daniels - Martha Ann

 Pictured:  American Princes aren’t allowed to touch the fireworks anymore without asking dad first. 

Arkansas based band, American Princes is sweet.  The first time I listened to them, I honestly wasn’t that into it.  They have this sort of pure 80’s vibe that can be a little tough to swallow on first contact.  That being said, this band completely won me over with soaring choruses, lyrics that actually mean something, and the fact that their singer leaves his effing guts on every track.

 Real Love is a song that sounds like it would’ve been written by John Lennon had he lived to see the New Wave movement.  There’s a depth here that most “new” new wave bands don’t employ, gone is the complete party aesthetic.  It’s replaced by world-changing choruses and wailing guitar solos. 

There’s still plenty of reverb, and enough dance sounds to get little white boys to shake their skinny asses up and down the country.  There’s driving bass (oh, the bass!)  All things  being equal, American Princes is a band that deserves your listen.  Look for their album on April 14th. 

Download audio file (americanprincesreallove.mp3)

Frantic is probably the best word I could use to describe the Dodos. Frantic isn’t usually my thing, but it works here. For me. If I could use this song as a soundtrack to an episode of my life, it would probably be the part where I finally ask out the cute girl at the bakery. Actually, it would be the part where I’m walking up the street to the bakery, gaining confidence with each step. Either that or the part where I shoot myself in the chest. That’s how punk it is.

The electric guitar in the chorus that complements the vocal melody is X factor that really kills me.

The Dodos - Jodi

Buy Visiter here. Go see the Dodos at these places.

Pictured: Rage unplugged.

Jack O’Connor is a singer/songwriter from EC with a lot on his mind. His melodies borrow heavily from indie heavyweight, Elliott Smith. Where some would become lost in an homage to Smith, O’Connor is a deft enough songwriter to forge a songwriting identity all his own.

It’s a style of music that has been done so often, but rarely as well as this. Indie folk at times can be in danger of being too hip for itself. O’Connor sidesteps this with earnest lyrics that never tread very far into cliche or cynicism. He wants to help sort some shit out, not just the listener, but also for himself.

It helps that O’Connor is backed by tight, minimalist guitar playing and egg shakers. It’s a recording that sounds like it could have been (and maybe was done) in a kitchen or living room. It’s the sort of thing that sounds like it comes easily, but takes a deceptive amount of musical know-how to pull off.

There’s a great guitar solo at the end of this song. O’Connor doesn’t hem and haw on the strings. He doesn’t shred or push his fingers into a spasmic frenzy. It’s just right. I can’t think of a better way to describe O’Connor than to say that. It’s just right.

Jack O’Connor - My Carolina

I listened to this in my headphones on the way back from the grocery store. Since it is Easter Sunday, the bus was nearly empty. It was one of the new buses, so there were these backwards seats in the rear of the bus, and looked out at Vancouver in the pouring rain. This in turn I think kind of reminded me of being in the back of my grandmother’s car after her husband’s funeral.

What I mean is that this is emotional music. I teared up when the first piano chords rang out. The tom drums are just fantastic. When it was finished I started it over. This is a beautiful song. It’s good for a lonely Easter without your family.

Kathleen Edwards - Buffalo

Buy Asking For Flowers here.

Pictured: The Cinematic Orche.. oh, I get it. He’s holding a camera. AND he’s in a band. Oh subtlety!

The Cinematic Orchestra are an art collective from England. They write music for movies, for performance, and for, well, listening. They are all over the place artistically. It’s really hard to get a hold of what makes them great and what makes them tick. It doesn’t matter too much.

This track is beautiful. It gives me chills. I don’t want to ruin it for you by over analyzation, but there’s something to be said about brilliantly simple vocals, lyrics, and piano parts. This sounds like what Cold Play could be.

There are few songs in the world that make me want to live up to my full potential (whatever that even means). Simply put, listening to this makes me want to give up fast food, ride a bike, love my family, and actually listen to people. When’s the last time a song made you say that?

The Cinematic Orchestra - Too Build A Home

Pictured: Echo Bravo in happier times. Oh, to be back in the middle of the great tandem bicycle craze of 2005.

Somtimes it’s good to revisit your roots. Echo Bravo was a great band in Eau Claire from 2004ish to 2005ish. The band was characterized as much by its in-fighting as it was for its amazing pop-dance songs.

They never really got the cred (at least in Eau Claire) of Amateur Love or Deyarmond Edison. Maybe its because they were all about the party and not enough about the substance, but maybe it was the case that people just didn’t know what they had until it was gone. I think this is most likely.

Either way, Echo Bravo managed to eek out one extremely amazing EP before packing it in and wearing it out. I don’t know how many people even have this in EC, as the band broke up immediately after the cd release show. That’s a damned shame.

Anyway, this is the secret track off of that album. An acoustic version of the almost-hit, “Break it Out”. Where the original is a pure, unflinching dance song, this one is all introspection and quiet bottle hits. Listen for Michael Claude Contezac’s perfectly subtle vocals on the choruses. Listen, remember, and enjoy.

Echo Bravo - Break It Out

Pictured:  John Nielsen.  You can almost smell the hoagies from here. 

John Nielsen is one of a seemingly endless stream of local artists who delve deep into their own psyche to write thoughtful, quiet, and beautiful pieces of art.  Bon Iver, Jon Sunde, and now Nielsen all live in the introspective space of late night recordings and lonely cabin practices. 

Now, there’s nothing here that sounds overtly Bon Iverian or Daredevilish, but the earnestness and simplicity of both local wunderkinds are here in spades.  Nielsen sounds like a lonely Jose Gonzalez covering Nick Drake songs in his apartment kitchen.  Where his lyrics are sure, his melodies creak and groan along… in a good way.  The songwriting has a depth that belies Nielsen’s years.  There is so much honesty to even the demos that Nielsen sent us that it warranted repeated listenings before I even felt qualified to write about it. 

Sure, there are times when Nielsen is heavy handed with his lyrics.  This could be because as this goes to press (internet, whatever) we only have Nielsen’s rough demos to work with.  His guitar work is simple, his melodies sweet. 

In the end, the honesty is what kept me into the album from start to finish.  There isn’t anything surprising here.  It’s Nielsen, a guitar, and well, that’s about it.  But there’s something fresh about coming back to what hopefully got us all into music in the first place, the search for truth.  Maybe Nielsen hits on it, maybe he doesn’t, but in the end it’s the search that counts.  Eau Claire should be glad to have him.  Look for Nielsen to play shows out and about this year of our lord, 2008.

Download audio file (nielsenpostmodern.mp3)

Pictured: I really don’t know. There wasn’t a lot to choose from.

I’d like to think that there isn’t a thought process for writing songs like I Love You Sailor’s, but that a small group of unrehearsed friends just sits down and begins playing them. They all smile and turn their heads toward one another, nodding and widening eyes as each sweet melody and note pours out. It’s agreed upon, without having been said, that none of them tries anything too tricksy or overwhelming to the rest of the group. On the walls are pictures…no…paintings of clouds and oceans. They play for an hour until there’s the smallest inkling of boredom, and before the act gets tiresome they all get up and go outside.

I Love You Sailor - The City In Which You Live

The City In Which You Live is one of the most pleasing and simple songs I’ve heard in a good while. Sometimes those are the hardest to write about. Do your day a favor and listen to more of I Love You Sailor on their Myspace page. Thanks to Juliet at Horse Latitudes for the mp3.

Pictured:  The Sargasso Trio.  I know, I know, I know it looks like an Andy band.

The Sargasso Trio is just that, three people from Norwich writing and creating interesting British folk music.  Equal parts samba, bob dylan-folk, and electro-pop, The Sargasso Trio mixes all of that nonsense into an exciting, and danceable cocktail.  I must say that I’m not one for the whole Afro-beat thing that is ripping through the indie scene.  Sargasso Trio has been one of the few grousp that I’ve heard do it well.  Maybe it’s because The Sargasso Trio’s melodies and harmonies are so fun that I believe them to be unironic pronouncements of joy.  Not some white college kid’s idea of what “sounds” fun. 

That said, please listen to Heels on Fire.  It’ll have to be in some romantic comedy in the next year.  The hip kind, not the Hugh what’s his name kind.

Sargasso Trio - Heels on Fire

Pictured: Matthew Dear. “Oh, I hope Peer Validated wrote about me today!”

We don’t feel as bad about ignoring an artist when all the other blogs give him/her so much attention. Matthew Dear was one such case. His new album, Asa Breed, was released way back in July of ‘07, and the buzz never really faded. Now as blogs put out their Best of ‘07 lists, the CD’s standout track Deserter is atop many for best song.

Deserter is soft and careful, working bright electronic beeps and boops around a stop and go pattern of clicks and beats. The vocal parts are consistant, deep and somewhat monotone, leaving their melodies unobvious and letting them blend into the music rather than blare over it. It’s a dreamy song that goes down easy, and Deserter certainly brought the credit he deserves to Matthew Dear in 2007.

Download audio file (matthewdeardeserter)

Pictured:  Blitzen Trapper are here to babysit. Yup, even the dude on the right. 

Sure it’s easy to get jaded while doing an mp3 blog.  You’re a hipster, writing about hipsters for hipsters.  It’s easy to lose sight of why you’re even listening to music in the first place. 

Kid music has recently took a turn for the disturbing.  I don’t want my future kids bumping and grinding to pre-teen girls talking about how all the boys want their milkshakes.  Old fashioned, I know.

Indie-kid-comps can go two ways; self-aware-cynicism, or if it does its job, self-aware-amazement.  For the Kids 3 is one of the latter.  With inspired tracks from Anthallo, Of Montreal, and Great Lakes Swimmers, this is more than just a recycled, ass-sounding Beck track. 

Blitzen Trapper definitely has the best song on the whole comp.  Share it with your 10-year-old niece or nephew.  There’s no kinda party like a hyper-kid dance party.  Please enjoy the poppy, dance goodness.

Download audio file (blitzentrappernewshoes.mp3)

Pictured Above:  Hip as shit.

Wes Anderson is the master of all soundtracks.  You can keep your Paul Andersons and your Cameron Crowes, but I’ll bet my buttons that ole’ Wes will always come out on top.  His knack for finding the perfect, seemingly never-heard-before song from that band-you-thought-you-knew is uncanny. 

I’m a huge Kinks guy, and I have to admit, I’d never heard “Strangers” before  it was blaring in the Darjeeling preview (while Adrian Brodey and company struggle against a raging river).  It is the only time I’ve ever felt like crying during A PREVIEW.  Maybe I’m a pussy, maybe it’s just Wes.  Who knows?  

 I’ll add that Darjeeling does the Anderson canon proud.  This isn’t strictly a music opinion, but I’d get out there and watch it.  Regardless of that, here’s the Kinks.   

Download audio file (thekinksstrangers.mp3)

Pictured: Jakobinarina, helping to forge new and exciting icelandic stereotypes since 2005!

Jakobinarina sound like Andrew W.K. sped up. Booming drums, blaring synth, and a penchance for almost punk rock guitars. It is intense to say the least. I don’t know anything about these guys, and I don’t really want to. I heard this song somewhere in the annals of the internet, and it struck me as being really fun, really fun to dance to, and really, um, not as smart as some other music.

Does this take away from “His Lyrics are Disasterous” at all? No! We aren’t always reinventing the wheel here. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to listen to music because someone I respect said it was amazing. Sometimes cred people get it right (Brian Eno) and sometimes there is a reason why not a ton of people like it (Xiu Xiu). That being said, one could say that an mp3 blog is inherently pretentious and should curb its musical inclinations to fit the venue. To that I say, “Suck it.”

Long story short: Good music. Not a lot of thinking. Intensity. Finals.

P.S. I guess they’re from Iceland, so all the stuff I said about not being cred… well, you can just throw that right out the goddamned window. Saved!

Jakobinarina - His Lyrics Are Disasterous

Pictured: Tunng hiding it under a bushel? No, they’re going to let it shine.

Two posts in one day, can you believe it? Sorry guys, it’s been real busy at this end. Hopefully as the holiday season continues, we can keep you on a steady diet of nog and snooty music. Here’s a song from experimental folk band, “Tunng”. They’re even experimental with their name! I enjoy it more than the original. That could be because I’m snooty. It could also be because I’m right. Listen for the weird delay-ee vocals on a couple of the choruses. Neat!

Wikipedia bonus fact: Tunng girl-member, Becky Jacobs is the younger sister of Max Tundra.

Thanks Wikipedia!

Tunng - The Pioneers

Pictured: The Zebras NOT putting another shrimp on the barbie. Well, that guy at the end might be doing something fishy. No, not that one. The other one.

The Zebras are a band that rollicks. They play their instruments charmingly. Suprisingly, they’re from Australia. Maybe it’s my own prejudice (and I almost guarantee it is), but I imagine that Australia is a land too sun scorched, full of dangerous beasts, and hardened criminals to produce such a carefree sounding album. Anyway, the guitars jangle, the vocals are low, and the backups are appropriate and semi-fun.

I’m sort of scared to write another review of an international group after the whole Tender Forever debacle (see post for further). Hopefully these guys won’t nit pick a generally positive review. Hopefully they won’t have confusing myspaces with extra members. Hopefully they won’t be ungrateful, petty… I digress.

Anyway, this song is supremely catchy. Please save for summer. Unless you live someplace where this is seasonally appropriate. Anyway, I’m sure it will make it in to some soundtrack before long. Yup, that good.

The Zebras - You Look Ready