KWCW

Will somebody please make Dan Snaith an honorary Whittie? This is the guy whose moniker “Caribou” was the product of an acid-induced vision quest in the wildest of Canadian backwoods. This is the same guy who earned his Ph.D. in algebraic number theory, just to belittle academics everywhere with claims of making gold records in his spare time. Snaith’s fascination with nature and foreign countries continues on the remarkably lush “Andorra”, but this time he’s thrown people into the equation; girl people, specifically. However, don’t mistake his transition from hammerhead sharks to women named Desiree as losing his edge. These are some of his fiercest songs to date.

There are some humble artists out there that never want to admit that they knew which of their songs would be the hit single. Ben Bridwell of Band of Horses thought people would really dig “Wicked Gil”, but the captivating crescendos of “The Funeral” have become their calling-card. I can’t imagine this naiveté would be possible with the lead track “Melody Day” on “Andorra”. The pulsing, infectious ditty is unmistakably a hit. It’s the aural equivalent of playing the Rainbow Road level in MarioKart64 well into the early hours of the morning. I challenge you to avoid imagining butterflies, birds, or some other cute shit when you hear the twittering flutes and jangling guitars. Snaith has really hit his stride with his vocals too; his voice gently reverberates across each sonic landscape he constructs. And he seems to be inviting the awkward concert round-of-applause-before-the-song-is-actually-over with a late-song lull only to return more ferociously than before. Suffice to say, goodness gracious.

Andorra is one of the sunniest albums you’ll hear all year. Snaith takes the best parts of every post 60’s musical era, and condenses them into roughly four and a half minute audio collages. There are elements of the Beatles (imagine ?uestlove on the drums instead of Mr. Conductor from Shining Time Station) and a heavy dose of psychedelic influences. The rampant use of heavy reverb lends an eerie, ethereal tone that can only described as a true stardust fantasy. Each meticulous arrangement is entirely his own, as Snaith notoriously maintains a death-grip on the production of each song, start to finish. Surprisingly absent are the drums on one of the album’s finest tracks “Desiree”. Barring a few clangs of a triangle, Snaith’s complex, signature drumming is replaced by strings and a hypnotic chant of the stripper-esque moniker. The percussion on “Irene” is entirely drum machine and coupled with the slightly off-kilter melody, it is enjoyably haunting.

It’s remarkable to think that the man formerly known as Manitoba has been able to produce such a consistently excellent level of music on each of his albums. It seems as if he uses any instrument he can get his hands on and seamlessly incorporates it into a distinctly Caribou song. As an album, “Andorra” does not disappoint. Each song seems to exist naturally and cohesively with the rest. My only advice is to play this record before summer’s end for maximum effect.

Grade: A

-Kyle Gilkeson

There is a particular tremor of feeling that all music fans search for, the shudder that begins in the ears and trickles on through the rest of the body. It is the joy of discovering a new sound, of hearing a band take familiar elements and make them new again. In their modest way, that is the accomplishment of alt-folk group Bowerbirds on their debut album “Hymns for a Dark Horse.” Using guitar, accordion, drums, violin and pleasing vocals, the band creates a kind of jazzy folk that is dark, compact, and glittering. A hunk of obsidian in a forest clearing. Everything is driven forward with powerful melodies and a confident beat, quiet moments of musical doodling nicely balanced with loud, exuberant choruses. The lyrics revolve around environmental issues, calling humankind out for its disrespect and destruction. That may sound impossibly heavy-handed on paper, but set to their delicate, propulsive, and beautiful tunes it is the most natural thing in the world.

Grade: B

-Graham Trail

Hey Venus!, Super Furry Animals’ eighth album, is their shortest and quite possibly their most straightforward. Unlike the expansive, sometimes challenging, and significantly slowed-down Love Kraft, this album shows its hand quickly and works through a series of brief and relatively successful pop songs, summarizing everything that makes the Welsh band so great.

The first single, “Show Your Hand,” opens with a Beatlesque harpsichord line and expands into a fine piece of psych-pop, complete with strings and fuzzed-out guitars, followed up by “The Gift That Keeps Giving,” which sounds like it would’ve fit on any of the band’s nineties releases. “Suckers” and “Let The Wolves Howl At The Moon” are pretty typical slow Furries songs and the latter does a fine job closing the album.

What makes the album so frustrating, however, is the fact that it doesn’t show any progress or innovation from the band’s previous outings. It doesn’t make a cohesive statement and it lacks the sudden surprises and relentless experimentation of the rest of the band’s back catalog. It’s a good starting point, and consistent throughout, but from a band as creative as Super Furry Animals it’s hard not to want more.

C+

-Andrew Hall

Maya Arulpragasam has released one of the year’s most accomplished pop albums and proved that, even with allegations of terrorist sympathies, you can get major label distribution in America. Standout tracks like “Jimmy”, three and a half minutes of loopy, saccharine disco, showcase M.I.A’s sonically ambitious style and remarkable talent for incorporating an eclectic array of influences within the framework of a cohesive album. Arulpragasam traveled extensively during the recording of the album, and as a result, it resembles a sort of musical travelogue—including Bollywood samples, a collaboration with Australian child-rappers Wilcannia Mob, production credits from Baltimore’s Blaqstarr, and the recurring lyrical motif of Africa. All of these factors render a final product that is conceptually fascinating, but more importantly, a lot of fun.

Grade: A

-Bryan Sonderman

It’s official: Minus the Bear are stuck in a serious holding pattern. 2005’s “Menos el Oso” failed to break any new ground on the catchy, pseudo-math rock they had developed so well on their first album and two EPs, but usually such water treading is limited to one album for most bands worth hearing. Sadly, “Planet of Ice” continues along exactly as the previous albums did. The band almost feels afraid to try anything new, as little glimpses of experimentation periodically surface throughout the album, but are never allowed to develop. Granted, this isn’t a bad album, some of the songs are actually quite nice, it’s just stagnant and a letdown considering how good “Highly Refined Pirates” and their two EPs were.

Grade: C+

-Ben Stevens

The best way to describe Le Loup, a septuplet from Washington D.C., is with this mathematical equation that is just about as complex and
long winded as their debut album title: Arcade Fire + Sufjan Stevens+ rhythmic experimentations + Animal Collective= Le Loup. The album is titled after artist James Hampton’s life long work, which I encourage you to check out. “Le Loup (Fear Not)” is the centerpiece and easily one of the best songs on the album; a song that begins with the twanging of the banjo followed by the swelling of layered vocals, guitars, samples, handclaps, and other instruments. And this seems to be the formula for every song on the album. “The Throne” is short and the banjo and the prentiousness of it all becomes tiring. After listening to Le Loup, I just want to listen to more Animal Collective.

Grade: C-

-Matt Coleman