Dave's The Sadies Review

You often hear screenwriters talking about how a song or album can inspire an entire movie. Just one song? The entire film is built around that tune? Darker Circles by The Sadies is an album of those songs. As you listen, scenarios of filmic glow will come to life in your minds eye. You'll see a smoke filed bar, a crowded subway platform and the countryside of a land where nothing good has happened in a long time. The music creates this world perfectly – I think it’s an achievement of any band to help inspire ideas within other people’s minds

As body of musical work Darker Circles grabs you. From the first note it speaks to the listeners. Lyrics address us directly- constantly using the pronoun 'you' without any description of who that is specifically. It sounds like it matters more than anything else we've been listening to as culture.

The Sadies have been making great tunes for as long as I've been interested in great tunes, but Darker Circles seems to put moments in a bottle unlike anything that I've heard from them. The album is full of rock 'n' roll swagger, with country insecurities and that's not even the best part about it- the best part is how comfortable they sound playing these songs. This is the album The Sadies was meant to make.

As a Polaris Prize shortlister - Darker Circles achieved something for me that very few albums on this list have - it makes me forget I’m listening, because it so good to just hear it.

DAVE’S KEY TRACKS: ‘Another Year Again’; ‘Tell Her What I Said’; ‘Postcards’; ‘Violet and Jeffery Lee’; ’10 More Songs’

POST #8: The Sadies

ARTIST: The Sadies

ALBUM: Darker Circles

HOMETOWN: Toronto, ON

Ryan's Radio Radio review

I'm going to start this with a bit of a digression that's not really related to music at all. I'm a bit of a cinema fan, and have always had something of an interest in international cinema. When I was in high school, and first started getting into more independent and 'arthouse' type films, I would often encounter an opinion from other cinephiles that international film was just better than what North America produces. I mean, after all, Hollywood is happy to put out schlocky Schwarzenegger movies and Pauly Shore comedies, but internationally you get real filmmakers like Felini and Kurasowa.

I was young at the time, so it was a convincing argument, and I felt that way until I finished school, and started living in a really ethnically diverse neighbourhood. The local independently-owned cinema wanted to cater to the different communities that lived in the neighbourhood, so they showed a lot of Polish and Southeast Asian films. When I first heard that they were doing this, I thought it was going to be great. Turns out, though, that what the local communities wanted was mostly cheesy action movies and romantic comedies – just ones in Polish, Tagalog, or Hindi rather than in English. It taught me an important lesson: that there is no relationship between nationality and quality, and that artists from any culture are just as capable of the odd stinker as those that I grew up surrounded by.

Which brings us to Radio Radio's Belmundo Regal. I'd been listening to more Francophone music over the past year – Polaris nominees like Malajube and Karkwa, and other stuff like Couer de Pirate and Caracol. Listening to those artists, it's easy to fall into a trap that thinks that the residents of la belle province are just better at this music thing than the rest of us, especially with the likes of Drake and Justin Beiber being so popular among English-language music fans. This made me oddly thankful to listen to Belmundo Regal because I absolutely did not connect to it at all – it seemed like the same kind of cheesy mainstream rap that, normally fills up the charts on top 40 radio and get scornfully dismissed by critics.

So I'm thankful that I've listened to it, but I can't say it's any good, and I'm in agreement with both Dave and Gary in wondering how it got on the list of Polaris nominees. I can fully understand French albums being on the Polaris shortlist, and rap albums, but I just cannot understand this album being there, especially when much more worthy albums (XXXX by You Say Party We Say Die and Hannah Georgas' This Is Good, for example) didn't.

Gary's Radio Radio review

I appreciate that all music is subjective and that judging art is purely an individual effort. I can only tell you what I think of an album and how it made me feel. But at the same time I also believe something really bad is universally bad, ie- Michael Bay movies.

So with that intro it should come as no surprise that I didn’t dig Radio Radio. It’s unintentionally silly and ridiculous. It almost tries to emulate the Brooklyn dance-rock scene of bands like Animal Collective and Digital Projektors (oddly two other bands I think are terrible) but with a Weird Al Yankovic twist. This album is just a mess.

There is good amongst the bad, like some of the hooks in some of the songs, but not nearly enough to make up for the fact that this album seems ill conceived.

Every year there’s one album that appears on the Polaris list that's inclusion baffles me. Mostly because the rest are so good and I have trouble believing the judges got it so wrong but also because there were so many better Canadian albums. There’s no question which category Radio Radio fits into.

I can’t help but think someone like Jason Collett listens to this album and thinks what the fuck? Why them but not me?

Dave's Radio Radio Review

At one of my old gigs, not so long ago I was sitting and small talking with a buddy at his desk, and the mail arrived. He opened a large manila envelope and out came the Radio Radio Belmundo Regal CD. Both of us were immediately drawn to the artwork. Those colours were so perfectly washed together over that gorgeous tall ship. We knew the music was going to be something remarkable - we imagined it sounded like Phoenix or Belle & Sebastian. Something that looks this well thought out has to sound equally as good right?

Then we put the album into his computer. We looked at each other puzzled and perplexed - "what the fuck is this?" he said. "There is no way the guys who designed this artwork make this music" I proclaimed. We skipped to the next track - still the same reaction. This went on for the entire tracklisting. We thought there was some kind of mistake with the manufacturing of the album - so we asked someone else in the office to put their copy on - same music. Same reactions.

That's Radio Radio, it's just so unexpected. They made a party hip hop album that addresses such issues as metro-sexuals, packing for vacations, and of course; girls - but they do it in Acadian. Acadian is a hybrid of English and French, and for all of it's historical importance to this nation just sounds ugly.

Radio Radio are a testament to the power and reach of hip hop and urban culture in general - how three Acadian kids were able to gain enough influence and exposure to an expression of black culture, then to adopt it and make it their own is a great example of how big urban culture has grown over the years. When I read that back out loud it sound like the tagline to bad movie - Yikes!

Radio Radio isn't for everyone - it sounds like something that fell off of Jersey Shore soundtrack and landed on this list. At times it's clever and witty, like a high school wise cracker, but at others it's trying to be something it's not and it shows. The imitation of American Hip Hop techniques wears thin about halfway through Belmundo Regal, for my tastes the production isn’t there to support the act for the whole album. But I also feel left out of something – I feel like I walked into the conversation late, or missed the set up to a joke – because everyone else seems to be getting it on some other level. If that’s you – enjoy it.

POST #7: RADIO RADIO

ARTIST: Radio Radio

ALBUM: Belmundo Regal

HOMETOWN: Nova Scotia (now based in Montreal, PQ)

Ryan's Owen Palett Review

A few years ago Time Magazine put together a list of the most important gadgets of the past 35 years, and one of the top ones on the list was Sony's Walkman. It's easy now to underestimate how influential the Walkman was, but there's an argument that it entirely changed the way we appreciate music – albums had become truly portable after its introduction, and the Walkman allowed people to use their favourite albums as the soundtrack of experiences in their lives. The counter-argument of this, though, is that it's changed it in a way that has ruined music as an art form: if music is a soundtrack of an experience, rather than an experience itself, it no longer carries the same artistic weight that it was for centuries.

It's not an argument that I'm fond of; I think that the question of whether or not something is 'art' is more dependant on the circumstances under which it's created, rather than those under which it is consumed. But the changes that technology brings to art, and the idea of music as a soundtrack, rather than an experience, is something that has been weighing on my mind of late. This is especially true as I've been thinking of several of the Polaris Prize nominees that I've been listening to over the past weeks – I thought of it when listening to Besnard Lakes and Caribou, but listening to Owen Palatt's Heartland has brought that line of thought to the forefront more than either of those earlier albums did.

It sounds dismissive to say that, and I don't want to be completely dismissive of Heartland, because on a technical level it's a well-recorded and performed album, and it's clear that Owen Palett and the rest of the people working on the album knew what they were doing. But the entire thing is reminisent, to me, like the soundtrack of a Disney film, especially in songs like Midnight Detectives and The Great Elsewhere. From what I've read that isn't Palett's goal, and that he was actually attempting to create this intricate, layered narrative that deals with all sorts of philosophical and spiritual questions. While it's all well and good to do that, what Palett didn't do was create anything that would draw me into its narrative or force me to ask those questions. Instead I'd rather be doing something else while listening to this.

Gary's Owen Pallet Review

Sufjan Stevens. There I said it, now we can get on with the review and ignore the comparisons from here on out. Because while there are definite resemblances to the Chicago-native's blend of classical meets
power pop meets space-rock, talking about it during this review does
no justice to the supremely unique and awe-inspiring freshness with
which Owen Pallett approaches music.

To call it theatrical would be an understatement as would calling it
emotional. This is music that lives and breathes and demands you take
notice. It is an album of grace as it transitions from one superbly
crafted song to another. It is a the same time forceful; grabbing you
by the shirt and whisking you away to some insane carnival.

But while no one would classify this as mainstream in any sense and
this is not an album that would see regular rotation on my iPod, like
all art it is compelling. It defies you not to listen further and
become enthralled with its inherent beauty.

And the lyrics - oh the lyrics.

Stories are being unfolded here in beautiful emotive poetry for you to
linger on and dissect piece by piece. And as Dave mentioned, there is
clearly a sense of whimsy as Pallett seems to break the fourth wall
from time to time and speak directly to us, the listener; commenting
on the tale like some kind of vaudevillian narrator. When in Keep The
Dog quiet he quips "This place is a narrative mess" you wonder - is he
talking to me?

As we move into the midway point of our Polaris reviews it becomes
evident that these artists have been chosen for their sheer inherent,
god-given talent. These group and artists don't merely write songs,
they nurture and develop them like caring parents. And no more is this
on display than with Heartland. Not knowing a great deal about Pallett
one gets the sense that he is perfectionist at his core and the songs
are better for it.

Ironically as a parent myself this is the first album so far that -
with its lullaby-like tendencies - I would happily play for my 9
month-old son. Yet another reason to applaud Pallett; his appeal with
such a varying age demographic.

Dave's Owen Pallet Review

Before the review gets underway - just wanted to say I've been lobster fishing in the Northumberland Strait for the last week, and have loved it. Here's a pic, to prove it. Now onto the review

For me Owen Pallet has always been a unique question on the musical landscape – is he pop music evolved? Or is he accessible high art? One in the same we could say really.

For Heartland, Owen Pallet seems to be working on a higher level than I expected of him to. There are layers of sounds, experiments, and textures that upon first listen for me were frustrating, but the more I listened to them the more I listened for them. I must admit, I didn’t think Heartland would be as intense to listen to as it has become for me. It’s really evolved into an experience over the last week.

What strikes me about this album more than anything is the mood of it. It has every right to be pretentious and inaccessible, but it’s welcoming and warm. It gives a humorless vibe to it, but it’s got a tongue in it’s cheek at times. Heartland is full of heart, and is one of the more “human” albums I’ve listened to in a long time.

For Owen Pallet, this album is an accomplishment – he’s been hiding under the Final Fantasy moniker for years, and working for other people (writing, producing, composing) successfully for years. Heartland feels like the true man behind all that, finally with enough wisdom and confidence to present himself to the world. It’s admirable really. And it’s very appropriate that the last track on the album is What Do You Think Will Happen Now?

DAVE’S KEY TRACKS: ‘The Great Elsewhere”; ‘E Is for Estranged’; ‘Red Sun No. 5’; ‘Oh Heartland, Up Yours’

POST #6: Owen Pallet

ARTIST: Owen Pallet

ALBUM: Heartland

HOMETOWN: Toronto, ON

Ryan's Dan Mangan Review

Reviewing works of art can be a tricky business. It’s not like, for example, reviewing garden tools. If you’re looking at a hose you’ve basically got one question to ask yourself - does it effectively transport water from the spigot to where you need it to go? With artistic works, though, half the writing that’s ever been done on them has been focused on what art what it should do - is it entertainment? A soul pouring itself out to others? Is it a sign of self-actualization, or just another business?

I’ve never met Dan Mangan, but if Nice, Nice, Very Nice is any indication, I’d be willing to bet that he’s a man who believes that art is a tool of memory. That’s the feeling I got from listening to the album, at least; collectively they tell the story of someone who’s been away from home far too long, but who’s afraid to come home because he’s worried that either he’s changed, or home has. So he’s writing down all of his experiences, warts and all, to make sure he won’t forget them by the time he’s gotten old enough to appreciate them. And that’s all it is - this is not an album that tries to impress you with fancy instrumentation or complex key changes, or even trying to get you to pay attention with snappy hooks or singalong choruses. Instead it just sits there, existing on it’s own terms,a chronicle of its singer’s experiences. And while it may be cliche to say it, sometimes that’s enough.

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I’m a fan of meaningful lyrics, and this week was a big treat for me on that front. Mangan’s lyrics seem reminiscent of the Weakerthans in their more intimate moments. When I first listened to “You Silly Git” or “Some People’, for example, it seemed almost like I shouldn’t be there - like I was intruding on someone’s private conversation. Eventually, though, you realize that you are welcome there - Mangan recorded and published the album, after all, so he must be okay with sharing it with you. That simple, unassuming lyrical honesty is at the same time quaint and refreshing, and makes a strong case for Nice, Nice, Very Nice as a Polaris heavyweight.

For Dan Mangan, though, I get the feeling winning would just be one more memory to right a song about.

Gary's Dan Mangan Review

Nice, Nice, Very Nice might be the most appropriately titled album in this entire list of Polaris Prize nominees and perhaps of all time (unless Kenny G named any of his albums Generic Horn Music for Awkward White People). Dan Mangan’s offering is exactly that – nice. It’s the type of album that elicits words like nifty and neat and reminds me of music your mother would strongly approve of.

It’s safe to say no envelopes were pushed or animals harmed in the making of this album.

That’s not to say it’s a bad album by any stretch, but I – unlike Dave – felt zero emotional connection with this album (which is the fascinating part about this blogging process). Maybe under different circumstances, or pitted against less impactful Polaris Prize fare (like this year’s incredible line-up), Mangan would have stood out a little more from the pack.

The album begins promisingly enough, with Road Regrets eliciting a little toe-tapping here and there, but that’s about it. Robots follows and wastes little time in breaking out the clumsy clichés where robots are equated to heartbroken lovers, ending with a saccharin sing-a-long (robots need love too).

And such are Mangan’s lyrics – rarely treading into imagery and allegory, preferring the more heart-on-the-sleeve approach of putting it all out there. And when he does use metaphor it’s usually with slightly cheesy results (please see aforementioned Robots).

It’s also a bizarre album tonally ranging from 90s era Barenaked Ladies (Some People, Sold) to the Pogues (You Silly Git) but cohesively held together with that blunt lyrical style. And perhaps this is what keeps me from getting to deeply involved with this album. Mangan is unabashedly open and honest with his words and some people (ie – me) find this off-putting.

I should reiterate that this isn’t a bad album (which explains its inclusion in the Polaris Prize shortlist), and the worst thing you could say about it is that it’s corny and maybe a bit middle-of-the-road (a serving of vanilla ice cream with a side of white bread). Mangan is clearly a talented musician and songwriter and if that busking acoustic thing is your cup of tea have I got an album for you. But with so many of the bands on this year’s list creating soundscapes as complicated as the Taj Mahal, Mangan’s album sounds a little like a tree fort in comparison.

And I have to say I gain no pleasure from saying this, because Dan Mangan seems like a nice guy. Nice, nice, very nice indeed.

Dave's Dan Mangan Review

It would be easy to come up with any number of clichés that could describe the way I feel about Dan Mangan’s Nice, Nice, Very Nice: it feels like an old pair of jeans, it’s like a prefect cup of coffee, it’s comfortable and it’s home. But it’s more than all of those combined - for me this album is simply honest.

Dan Mangan seems to have caught a magical piece of himself and put it on this recording. Robots is the track that makes everyone take notice, which it should – if there was a Polaris Prize for song, it would get my vote 100%. In Robots Dan sings ‘ring the bells that still can ring and sing your stupid head off to the ones who are not listening.’ That is just what that this album is – it’s Dan Mangan, playing the bells that work for him while singing his head off. And it’s magical from top to bottom.

The bells that Dan plays are simple narrative lyrics, sung through a warm smoked voice, combined with arrangements that include at times violins (You Silly Git) a stand up bass and what I think sounds like a washboard (Sold). But it all works, because Mangan took that leap as an artist that you often hear singer/songwriter types talk about – doing what might not be expected, but what their heart is telling them to do. The best sound on this album is the sound of Dan Mangan believing in what he’s playing and singing for you at every turn.

It’s easy to dismiss this as another folksy arty Canadian singer/songwriter, but there is tons of great things that happen throughout this album. I’ve spent a lot of time with Nice, Nice, Very Nice, and every time I learn to love something more about it. Today it might be just one lyric, and tomorrow it might be an arrangement – but it seems I can find something new in every listen – and for that the album is special and to me a remarkable piece of work, from artist who you can believe in – for albums to come I hope.

DAVE'S KEY TRACKS: 'Robots'; 'Sold'; 'Tina's Glorious Comeback'; 'Basket' - but try them all, each one is solid.

POST #5: Dan Mangan

ARTIST: Dan Mangan

ALBUM: Nice Nice Very Nice

HOMETOWN: Vancouver B.C

Ryan's Karkwa Review

If you listen to enough albums, you'll realize that a lot of them come with certain barriers. Sometimes those barriers come from the musicians themselves, if they've made a really dense or inaccessible album, but usually those barriers come from the listener: you don't like previous work by the artist, or you're not fond of the genre in question, or any of a hundred other reasons. To an extent those barriers are necessary, because there isn't enough time in the day to listen to every song by every artist that comes out, and you have to make decisions on what to listen to and what to skip. If you're not careful, though, those barriers can make you miss something excellent.

Karkwa's Les Chemins de Verre arrived in the review queue this week, with a fairly big barrier in front of it: the album's in French, and I don't speak the language much beyond what I learned in Grade 9 French class. This is a bit compounded by the fact that I'm at heart a lover of lyrics, and so the part of the album I most want to dissect is the one that's inaccessible to me.

Thankfully, though, it doesn't matter. Les Chemins de Verre is a good enough album that it doesn't merely climb over any language barrier you might have, it leaps over it in a single bound. From the opening track, Le pyromane, it's got you, giving you enough to keep listening while leaving enough unsaid that you're hanging on every chord change and transition in the album. From there, we go on a bit of a musical odyssey – through tracks like Marie te pleures, Les Enfants de Beyrouth, and Au-dessus de la tete de Lilijune, Karkwa explores several different genres and styles in a way that shows that they're familiar with all of them, and yet each one still has a distinctive stamp on them – you still know you're listening to a Karkwa song with each one.

It's an album with a lot of layers to it – I've been listening to it all week, and I still feel like I've only scratched the surface with it. And, while it's layered, it's still very accessible – you could jump into it with a single quick listen and still get a lot out of it. But trust me, with that single quick listen, you're going to want to come back for more.

Gary's Karkwa Review

It would seem that in the last few years La Belle Province has thrown down the musical gauntlet to the rest of the country and maybe even the alt-rock music scene – a sonic warning to heed their ability. These are bands you should take seriously, very seriously indeed.

For years, acts like The Stills, Wolf Parade, Arcade Fire, Stars, Patrick Watson, Plants and Animals and – the band that should have won last year’s Polaris Prize – Malajube, have rolled out of Quebec in a steady stream.

And now here comes Karkwa. From the French word for a quiver of arrows (thank you Wikipedia), this is a band with a lot in its arsenal (see how I cleverly related their name to a character trait).

But to imply they’ve just arrived is inaccurate. Les Chemins De Verre is the fourth effort from a band that creates catchy, instantly likeable songs, but will consistently surprise you. And for me this is easily the best part of listening – like a Christopher Nolan film, you’re never going to know what happens next.

For some, this is a daunting, even scary experience. Certain people need the comfort of blatant chord change and a chorus that rides in with ample warning. So it’s rare that a band can still surprise you with their musical choices but without sacrificing pop sensibilities.

Dave alluded to comparisons with Radiohead and Sigur Ros, and he’s not wrong. You can identify those same textures and layers that have become staples for those bands. But if you listen very carefully, you’ll find that Karkwa are more like musical chameleons. They don’t really sound like any of those bands but more like variations of their style.

Take for instance Marie, Tu Pleurs which will remind you Bon Iver if he had a slightly sunnier disposition. Or maybe you’ll find something akin to the Shins in L’Acouphune, but only sort of. This is the wonder of the album, identifiable tones mixed with genuine surprise. But I’ll concede that this could also be its downfall. With such an eclectic mix of styles and tones, it can be hard to anchor yourself to the album as whole.

However the fact remains, that this is seriously good music, from seriously good musicians and I for one am watching the 401 for the next great export.

Other provinces, be on alert - something wicked this way comes.

Dave's Karkwa Review

Karkwa Les Chemins De Verre, the first French language album we run across on the short list year. Welcome friend – you are refreshing, if you are not anything else.

For me it’s always interesting listening to an album en francais – I’m able to piece parts of the lyrics together, and I usually get limited by my own ignorance halfway through, but the music always keeps me listening.

That is no different with Karkwa – the album starts with a subtle, yet symbolic sound of a fire crackling and popping, or is that vinyl hiss? Not matter, because before you are able to indentify what it is, the lead track explodes out of the speakers and thus your journey begins.

Artistically, every song on Les Chemins De Verre sounds like a big statement, something that Radiohead and Sigur Ros achieve on albums these days (bands Karkwa are often compared with BTW), and something Coldplay and U2 attempt to achieve. However there is more of a mass, pop sensibility to this particular album. To the Karkwa’s credit they achieve a unified message here, without getting hokey and preachy about their art.

This album has something for everybody – “Dors Dans Mon Sang” is a haunting dark piano driven tune, “Marie Tu Pleures” is a sing a long, hand clap–a-thon, “La Piqure” is drenched in sentimental angst. But at the root of every song is an appeal, that speaks to listeners – it’s one of the most accessible French albums I’ve ever heard. With that being said, I'm really indifferent to it on a whole. I think it's good, but would I suggest you run out and get it or not get it? No either way.

Karkwa, has been able to demonstrate exactly what music is meant to do - break down barriers, in this case, they break down language. Le Chemins De Verre” maybe a French album but you don’t have to know the language to understand the message and emotion used to create it. Will it stand up over time, or will it just be the gateway to different artists doing the same thing? Time will judge that one.

DAVE'S KEY TRACKS: 'L'acouphene'; 'Dors Dans Mon Sang'; '28 Jours', 'Marie Tu Pleures'

POST #4: Karkwa

Artist: Karkwa

Album: Les Chemins De Verre

Hometown: Montreal, PQ