Opener “Sometime Somewhere Someone Should Say Something” features an unfortunate drum machine - something the mars this and a couple otherwise excellent tracks - but otherwise is a catchy number that well represents the album. Full of the big, sweeping orchestration that sets them apart from their peers (and seems more appropriate for arenas than the typical indie foul-smelling cafe), the chorus gets stuck in your head and the sound manages to be like several bands without truly aping any.

Overall this bit features some catchy tunes, interesting ideas, and is certainly worth a listen. A solid beginning for a potentially fantastic band, 6.9/10.

The ratio of citizens to electronica groups in France has to be close to 2:1, with artists like M83, Vitalic, Daft Punk and Air providing a steady stream of synth-driven Gallic brilliance to America’s largely guitar based indie scene.  Well, the French have done it again, but this time with a twist.  Add a charismatic female lead singer (causing your promotional pictures to look scarily like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs), a little guitar, and you have some of the best dance-punk to hit these shores in ages.

A sort of best-of taking songs from their first two albums, it’s fun, fast, and the language barrier proves to be no problem at all - the songs are just as catchy even if you don’t know French.  “Danse Sur la Merde” is a loud, brash, riotous song whether or not you know that the chorus you’re mangling actually means “dance to the shit on the radio“, same with the fuzzy and bouncy “Je ne Te Connais Pas”.  After a while it starts to sound same-y, but there’s still a critical mass of excellent songs here.  7.5/10

However, the mystery is now gone, as one of Troy’s friends has left a message on the review:

dude, i am one of troys good friends and just found out about this the other week. it’s pretty damn funny i will admit and i gave him some good shit for it too. actually, melissa’s new boyfriend put it up, and he infact made a video out of it too because it was soo funny. the video was filmed and edited by ethan, another good friend of mine. it’s only funny to the point that the rumors are true, but what they don’t tell you is that troy actually beat cheeks with this broad months and months after this occured. it’s great. well, just a little insite.

The Kinsella family has become akin to an indie Mafia, with most of Chicago as their territory and Tim as their Brando-esque godfather. Cap’n Jazz, Make Believe, Joan of Arc, the Owls, and many more include themselves as projects of the prolific bunch. But one of the more interesting bands to come out of this mini-scene is from two former sidemen to the family - the quietly experimental Sharks And Seals.

Tim Kinsella may appear on two of the songs, but this is completely different from any of his trademark emo-core. Over hypnotically picked guitars, digital bleeps and inventive, clattering percussion, the duo of Joe Tricoli and Todd Mattei whisper, sing and meander. The fact that this all is reminiscent of a more structured Animal Collective is quite ironic given that the album is mostly improvised.

Yes, you heard that right, improvised. And not in a cloying, jam band way either. The songs and structure are loose and wandering, but never get out of hand. The music touches on folk, but doesn’t stay long as it clatters through other, less defined styles, all in a catchy and melodic fashion. The lyrics are obscure in the best possible way, with curious turns of phrase throughout. This is an auspicious debut from a highly original band. 8/10

Tomorrow is Halloween, and just in time Robert Schneider (of Elephant 6 favorites Apples In Stereo, Ulysses, and Marbles) has recorded a Halloween song, “Dracula” for his Marbles project. A hilarious, 80s-referencing joke track about Dracula starting a recording career, you can download it here.

Last week, one of the hot indie rock blog topics was the secret Decemberists purevolume account, which contained three “leaked” new songs before they were taken off a few days ago. But possibly the most interesting element of this was that none of these songs were that rare - all three were live versions of new songs that can be found on a couple of easily attained Decemberists bootlegs. These bootlegs were not even breaking news - they had been in circulation for some time. To top it all off, it wasn’t even the Decemberists who put the songs up - it was me, a lowly fan.

The first two on the site, “Valencia” and “Shankhill Butchers” were just live recordings from Colin’s performance at the zoo in Seattle, and the third, “Julie Anne” was from another Decemberists bootleg. Pretty common stuff among Decemberists boot traders.

But it’s nice to have the goodies all in one place. That’s why I made the first Decemberists purevolume (which is all compilation tracks - “Human Behavior”, “Like a Lion”, and “Kingdom of Spain”). I made another to hold the three post-Picaresque new songs. Since no one was going to find it otherwise, I linked it to the other Decemberists purevolume and made up some “secret site” bullshit.

All was well and good, with only a dozen or so hits on the secret one every day. But then an overexcited fan from LiveJournal found it and blogged all about it, and suddenly there were 1,000+ hits a day. The Decemberists’ management contacted me about how the Decemberists weren’t digging the fact that early live versions of new songs were internet phenomenons (rather than bootleg frosting-on-the-cake for hardcore collectors), so I took them down.

This incident brings up some interesting questions and divisions. It divides Decemberists fans into two distinct categories - LiveJournal fans (who generally stick to the popular blog site) and bootleg traders (most of whom frequent the official message board). Both seem to be equally obsessed with the band, but LJers are more prone to being uninformed (i.e. unaware of the existence of bootlegs) while at the same time being less jaded and more excited about the Decemberists generally. Boarders are extremely well-informed (not just about the Decemberists, but about music generally), but also tend to be more cynical and jaded.

The LJers tend to be young high schoolers (with a slight majority female) whereas the boarders tend to be slightly older, with a slight majority male. LJers are classic music obssessives (i.e. Beatlemania) who love the music to death but know nothing about it, who blog about the sexiest Decemberist without knowing the instruments they play. Boarders are know-it-alls who possibly have more knowledge about than untainted love for music.

The question becomes this: which is better? What are the various merits of each? Is it possible to be both? A lack of knowledge of the context of the band made the LJers more excitable, falling for what was essentially a Decemberists board inside joke faster than a dog does for the beam of a laser pointer. But at what cost comes knowledge? I know that personally I don’t listen to the Decemberists as much as I did when I was a thoughtless young fan two years ago. I’m more likely to debate the merits of various songs than actually listen to them. I’ve amassed a sizeable collection of Decemberists bootlegs that I rarely listen to, but have I ever created a LiveJournal moodset using Decemberists photos?

I think the “ultimate fan” would be one with a healthy mix of both. Knowledge is important in understanding what the artist is trying to say, not to mention in acquiring quality rare songs. But it shouldn’t come at the expense of excitement. Maybe not to the extent that one’s hours are spent digging through Decemberists photos to make a moodset, but there is something appealing about that fresh-faced enthusiasm

Many other questions can be raised from this incident. Does a creepy moodset cross the line from fandom to fanaticism? What is fan respect? This is the start of a weekly column, with more thoughts next week.

When you come out of the heavily hyped independent music scene in Montreal (along with artists like the Arcade Fire, the Unicorns, Destroyer, and Frog Eyes), and have Isaac Brock from Modest Mouse produce your first album, it raises everyone’s expectations. Thanks to this, Wolf Parade had a lot to live up to at their show last Saturday at the Intersection in Grand Rapids.

But for the most part they did, despite difficulties both self-inflicted and unavoidable – technical issues with the sound, a broken snare drum, and vast quantities of alcohol consumed by all members of the band.

Wolf Parade’s sound – plodding and anthemic rock, anchored by two strong lead singers, (one with a riveting yelp that could best be described as a yodel, the other with a gravelly sneer) – along with the casual talent of the musicians, triumphed over the numerous problems that presented themselves. The band members remained good-humored throughout, conversing with a lifesize cardboard cutout of the rapper Nas they propped up on stage, chatting with the audience, and generally enjoying themselves even as they had to wait for a drum, or were waiting for the sound man to work out some sonic issues. The songs are each brilliant little vignettes, with lyrical story arcs and highly original musical arrangement, and within the first five seconds of any of them the long downtime between songs was forgotten.

Highlights included the bleak and startingly original “You Are A Runner And I Am My Father’s Son” that came halfway through the set, causing the mostly-full Intersection to go wild. The heavy beat on the drums (which contributed to the snare drum breakage), and the vaguely Southwestern-sounding guitar grew more and more tense until the band exploded into a long jam at the end. Lyrically it’s equally captivating, with poetic, deeply personal lines like:

I’ll draw three figures on your heart/ One of them will be me as a boy/ One of them will be me/ One of them will be me watching you run/ watching you run / into the high noon sun.

Another highlight was “I’ll Believe In Anything”, an optimistic, instantly catchy number with a brilliant arrangement. The slow, stately “Dinner Bells”, which was part of the two-song encore, impressed with its emotional, affecting lyrics.

The first opener, the semi-local band Anathallo, gave a typically intense and unique performance, replete with trombones, imaginative percussion (including velcro and a wrench), and huge, thumping bass drums. Playing a mix of new and old material, they impressed the crowd with everything from catchy, cacophonous chants to quiet piano numbers. The only downside was the constant murmur of the crowd, which didn’t mesh well with Anathallo’s occasionally quiet demeanor. Second opener 256 mystified the gathering by playing a set of straight-ahead rock resembling Nickelback that didn’t fit at all with the other two bands’ more unique sound. Overall, though, it was an excellent night that showed how great music can triumph over anything, whether it be liquor, a broken drum, or Nas. 8/10

Seu Jorge, the hugely popular Brazilian singer known mainly in the States for acting turns in “City of God” and “The Life Aquatic”, made a rare stateside appearance in Grand Rapids, MI, last month. Complete with a four-piece band, three of whom played mainly percussion, he enraptured a mind-bogglingly small crowd at the undeserving Calvin College Fine Arts Center.

His latest CD, Cru, suffers from a lack of strong percussion, but otherwise is a brilliant record. Here this problem was completely solved by the large rhthym section. All of them, especially the solid, pounding drummer (who mainly played the toms and snare), turned decent songs into brilliant ones. Jorge only played two of his David Bowie covers from the popular “Life Aquatic” soundtrack, but the other songs were so intensely good that it hardly mattered.

The audience loved every minute, especially a large Brazilian contingent that danced in the aisles during almost every song. Jorge and his band returned for three encores, including a riveting performance of his socially conscious “I Am Favela”, about poverty and ghettos in Brazil.

Among the highlights was an extended showcase for the drumming trio, a hilarious remark from Jorge telling everyone to get his name straight (a horrendously large number of promotional posters said “Sue Jorge”), the two selections from the Life Aquatic soundtrack, and “Tive Razao”, an excellent number off of his latest that was turned into a classic with the pounding drums. Jorge is a hugely talented musician, with charisma to spare. Why he isn’t more popular in America is beyond me. 9/10

So what has reclusive Neutral Milk Hotel frontman Jeff Mangum been doing for the past seven years? Drawing, apparently. In the first update to the Neutral Milk Hotel website in years, he has begun selling drawings at ten bucks a pop.

The drawings all feature seemingly related aliens that bear a striking resemblance to the art he contributed to the Elf Power CD “A Dream In Sound”. They perform a variety of interesting activities that often involve planets. Many include a large, handwritten Neutral Milk Hotel logo, and most have a distinct Jeff Mangum signature.

They seem to be sold out as of press time, an impressive feat considering that the only means of promotion was a single post on the Elephant 6 message board. The website promises that more are on the way, but the many other unfufilled promises on the site (including a Neutral Milk Hotel rarities set and a book of short stories by Jeff) make it less than sure that more will actually be sold.

However, this resurgence in activity from Jeff (along with his appearance at an Olivia Tremor Control in August, selling homemade guitars on Orange Twin’s website, and a glimmer of interest in playing Intonation) has many Neutral Milk Hotel fans wondering if indeed he will return to music soon.

Scans from those who bought drawings can be found here.

Cursive’s labelmates and drinking buddies Bright Eyes have a great line that can easily be used to describe the allure of indie rock fandom -

“I’d rather be working for a paycheck/than waiting to win the lottery…“.

Indeed, what could be more dull than waiting for great bands to hit the radio, or being able to find obscure Wolf Eyes 7 inches at Best Buy? Indie rock is all about the struggle and the pain of going to tiny, smoky clubs, obsessively reading music websites, spending huge amounts of money on rare albums. But of course, there’s the great payoff - knowing more about obscure, bearded freak-folkers than anyone within a hundred miles, owning more vinyl, and most importantly, resting easily in the knowledge that you are better than everyone else.

This innate indie need for a Pyrrhic victory was displayed for all to see on Tuesday as Cursive wrapped up their “secret tour” at Mac’s Bar in Lansing. Their first tour since the departure of cellist Gretta Cohn, it consisted of a handful of dates at tiny clubs played under made-up names (here, the Jazz Hessians). This being a club with a capacity under two hundred, there was no presale, even after word leaked that it really was Cursive. So tight-pantsed, glasses-wearing indie rockers from across the Midwest skipped school and called in sick, heading out to Mac’s from places as far flung as Canada, the first arriving seven hours before the show began.

The line extended around the block by mid-afternoon, eventually reaching that uncomfortable point where you knew the people at the end of the line would end up crying more than Conor Oberst at a funeral, clawing at the closed door of the club. The heat was nearly unbearable, but it was nothing compared to what to come when the show began.

Inside the cramped venue, the temperature rose ever higher as the show progressed through the openers. The first, LaSalle, was a hardworking (if a bit bland) local band who showed real potential only when their main gimmick of male/female vocals was properly utilized. The second band, current Omaha buzz band Ladyfinger, impressed the crowd with their endearingly catchy, smamry brand of hard rock.

Then Cursive took the stage. Parting the sea of sweaty indie kids like musical Moseses (there’s no backstage at Mac’s), they took control immediately with The Ugly Organ standout “Gentleman Caller” and didn’t let go once. Proving right away that they’re mostly unaffected by the absence of cello, Kasher and co. filled in with timely guitar solos and other slight tricks. The 14-song set sampled equally from all eras of Cursive - mostly from Ugly Organ and Domestica, but also a good selection of rare and early tracks, sating the rabid fans that waited so long.

On stage, Kasher sipped whiskey in true Saddle Creek style as he and the rest of the band sweated through their clothes. When someone in the audience commented on his clothes (flip-flops and gray jeans that he rolled up halfway through the set), he mumbled something immortal about how “a Jazz Hessian doesn’t care about how they look, only about their chops”. And indeed, however purposefully redneck Cursive’s appearance was, their chops were top notch.

Cursive’s metasongs simultaneously transcend and poke fun at the cliches of cathartic, emotional, loud-soft rock. In this way, their lyrics and music are the rare combination that can be enjoyed both on an emotional and mental level. But at Mac’s Bar, it was pure emotion.