Seattle band Ticktockman self-released their debut EP ‘Periscope’ in February 2010.  This debut full-length – released a full two years later – was also issued without the backing of a label.  Like most releases, it has its obvious strengths. The first thing that’s striking is the fact that for a DIY project, the production – handled by Derek Moree – is superb.  The second thing that hits the listener is that, in Brock Lowry, this band possesses a terrific drummer.  Within a minute of the opening number ‘Archaic Republic’ he’s attacking his kit in a manner which recalls the mighty Dave Grohl in his youth.  Unfortunately, beyond these two aspects, there’s not much that’s particularly enduring about ‘Archaic Republic’ – the riffs are fine, though rather ordinary and the vocals are a tad lightweight.  Repeated listens help highlight the enjoyable qualities – as does cranking the volume knob – but overall, Ticktockman bring little that’s new to their chosen brand of alt-rock on this opening statement.

In fact, it’s not until track three, ‘The Architect’, where the band steps things up to a level that hints at something potentially special.  Lowry is given ample opportunity to lay down a few interesting drum parts and between the full-on rock moments, he can be heard playing some cool fills interspersed with some off-kilter stops.  Those drums are most effective when combined with Andy Lum’s lead guitar parts – full of overdrive in a Dave Navarro style, combined with what sounds like a touch of wah-wah pedal.  A few of the riffs recall bands like Oceansize, the LOUDquietLOUD technique is in full flow and the vocals are more atmospheric too, subjected to echo and other studio trickery.  With the full on drums balanced by some superb atmospheres and subtle guitar lines towards the end, maybe Ticktockman would have been wiser to use this as their opening number… It certainly showcases a band with a better – and more interesting – musical range.

Also excellent is ‘Jungle Cutter’, with its heartfelt vocal and solid rhythmic base.  Simpler than so much of Ticktockman’s material, and so much the better for it too: in addition to the great features already mentioned you’ll find a lovely bassline and noodling guitar solo to flesh things out even farther.  The first solo kind of ambles, but never in a way which feels like it’s merely playing for time.  It could be said there are slight resemblances to similar approaches employed by John Frusciante, though with fewer sharp edges.  The second solo (presumably played by the other of the band’s two guitarists) is more in keeping with the main riff itself; a touch of wah, a heavy dose of retro feel in the tone and served up with bags of attitude.  Brief and to the point, it’s a decent companion to the song’s main riff, which in terms of swaggering bravado is probably the album’s finest.

The rest of the album isn’t without its enjoyable moments – the riffs come thickly laid throughout, and as already said, Brock Lowry is an excellent drummer – but there’s nothing that’s really on a par with ‘Jungle Cutter’ or ‘The Architect’.  ‘The Mighty Veil’ has another meaty riff, ‘Expose of New Orleans’ possesses a tight rhythmic pattern worthy of Tom Morello jamming with UK metallers Mishkin (as well as a couple of unexpected Mexicana styled moments), or the atmospheric end of ‘Dirty Ole Sunset’ puts a mix of vibrato filled guitars and slightly distorted electric piano motifs to best use – every one of these statements helps paint a picture of Ticktockman’s sound – but none of this technical brilliance distracts from the fact that very little of the material is that memorable in the long term.

In accordance with their self-imposed mission statement of “bringing loud music back to Seattle”, Ticktockman can consider this album a success.  While, on a technical level, there’s really nothing wrong with this record – it’s well played and brilliantly produced, and individually none of the tracks could ever be dislikeable if you like alternative rock served with big riff – there are plenty of times when it could do with a few choruses to help cement the tunes inside your head after they’ve ended.  It’s entirely possible that lots of alt-rock fans will enjoy what’s offered by Ticktockman, but despite some great musical chops their material can feel oddly unsatisfying if you’re looking for something enjoyable in the long term.

February 2012

Grinding, confrontational, ambling, potentially scary: just a few of many words which could describe ‘Giftes 1&2’, the curiously titled debut album from UK art/alt-rockers Antlered Man.  There’s no point pussyfooting around here – since Antlered Man rarely do – it’s a bloody difficult record in lots of places.

‘Outrages 1 ta 3’ starts easily enough, as a fairly clean guitar lays down a mid-paced riff, under which a pleasingly upfront bass takes most of the tune’s overall weight.  Once the drums and keys are pushed into the mix, everything takes on a slightly eastern vibe; there’s an odd coldness at the heart of the band’s sound, reinforced by a slightly unemotional vocal.  The main thrust of the tune disappears after three minutes or so, at which point would have been a good time to move onto something new – but Antlered Man launch into a two minute coda, which if anything could be more appealing than the main tune itself. Oliver Parker’s drums crash and move things towards a thrashier sound, while Sam Ray’s bass continues to wander down a similarly aggressive path as before.  If anything at all is holding this together, those basslines are absolutely essential.

Although ‘Outrages…’ has its hard-going and wilful moments, it’s fairly straight ahead and easy listening compared to ‘If You Can’t Beat Them, Try Solvents!’ where the band opts for a mechanical grind and tops it with distorted and cold keyboard sounds for good measure.  The end result sounds like Wire jamming on the Killing Joke debut, produced by Steve Albini with Mike Patton’s sense of the unsettling.  The electronic noises are so loud in the end mix, they drown out some of the vocal, and even a few drums and guitars in other places: bend your ears around the cacophony though, and Ray’s bass can still be heard laying down some interesting patterns.

Following a deliberately oddball intro comprising a high pitched bass riff and equally suitable vocal, at first ‘Platoono of Uno’ steps into another world of angular grinding. Midway, however, the band steps up a gear, changing the mood almost entirely.  The best part of this number showcases Antlered Man in the guise of a full-pelt, alternative rock/punk hybrid, creating music mot unlike Jello Biafra’s outings with (the) Melvins.  Over these fast sections, the vocal takes on a manic stance and the lyrics an air of confrontation.  Such a high speed approach suits the band very well indeed – especially Damo Holmes’ vocals.  An album highlight, ‘Surrounded By White Men’ is a colossal slab of distorted alt-rock, driven by a superbly fuzzy bass and insistent drum line (which at first, sounds like it could break into XTC’s ‘Making Plans For Nigel’ at any second!).  While the drums vie for listener’s attention throughout, the ringing guitars stand out, as does another slightly tension-filled vocal.  This is the sound of a band whom would have been label mates with The Jesus Lizard or Girls Against Boys back in ’94…

‘Misruly Roo’ takes a bassline that has the presence of Jean-Jacques Burnel’s early (great) work and then fuzzes that up for maximum effect.  The drums and guitars flesh out a spiky rhythm – effectively creating one of the album’s most endearing musical structures, over which the vocal is surprisingly sedate.  Taking most of the best elements of Antlered Man, it presents another of the album’s best tracks.  Although they never stretch far beyond the intro’s musical blueprint, the track never drags – even when stretched out for over seven minutes.  It comes as no surprise that huge chunks of ‘Balloons, Needles, Sunlight and Evil’ come drenched in downtune and distortion – almost to stoner rock levels in places – but intercut with the general dirginess, there are a few musical flourishes which stand out.  As before, Oliver Parker’s drumming has a strong presence, while on the quietest parts, Danny Fury’s guitar lines hark back to alternative rock’s mid-90s glory days for maximum retro cool.

While not always big on direction, ‘Giftes 1&2’ offers the listener a whole world of edgy tunes, delivered with amps cranked for fair amounts of intensity.  However, it doesn’t quite match the all round greatness of ‘Constellation’ by Seattle noise merchants Mutiny Mutiny (a hard act to follow in this field), despite Antlered Man’s best efforts.  But, since this is a band with some great ideas and enough of their own flair to build on such promise, for fans of grinding alt-rock, this album should definitely strike a chord (metaphorically speaking) at least on a few tracks.

January 2012

After 2004’s ‘Half-Smiles of the Decomposed’, Dayton Ohio’s lo-fi heroes Guided By Voices went their separate ways.  Frontman Robert Pollard embarked upon a ridiculously prolific solo career, yielding on average two records per year, in addition to an almost innumerable number of side projects.  2012’s ‘Let’s Go Eat The Factory’ breaks a long hiatus for the band, and reunites what many fans consider to be the “classic” line-up of GBV: Robert Pollard, Tobin Sprout, Mitch Mitchell, Greg Demos, and Kevin Fennell – a group of people last heard as a cohesive unit fifteen years previously.

Halfway through the opening track, it feels like Guided By Voices – in any form – have never been away.  And in many respects, they haven’t: each of Pollard’s post-GBV outings released between 2004-2011 often had a certain GBV feel, something especially true of the first of his 2011 releases ‘Space City Kicks’.  Something which is clear right from the outset, though, is that ‘Let’s Go Eat The Factory’ is more than just another GBV record.  There’s precious little here which echoes the polished indie rock which filled their last few records, for better or worse, there’s no ‘Glad Girls’, no ‘Teenage FBI’.  Sweeping away most, if never quite all, of the radio-friendly indie jangle of the latter years, ‘Let’s Go Eat…’ is gloriously lo-fi, a pure celebration of everything the band had been circa 1995/6 so, naturally, most of the record sounds like something you’ve owned by the band for years. There are, however, a couple of surprising elements to be found within the album’s twenty one songs.

Those surprising moments prove pivotal during two of the obvious stand out tracks.  ‘Hang Mr Kite’ will always be recognisable as the work of Robert Pollard due to his slightly drawling vocal, but musically it’s not very GBV-like at all.  His vocal sits atop the sounds of strings which provide a very late sixties mood – more like something you’d find on Nick Drake’s ‘Five Leaves Left’ than your average GBV release.  ‘Spiderfighter’, at first, offers plenty of fuzzed up riffing in a standard lo-fi indie-rock sense, but it’s during the coda where the real magic happens – the guitars stop and the vocals are met by a series of gently played piano chords.  The coda lasts just over a minute, but it’s long enough for you to realise that something unexpected and magical may have just happened. The smooth use of the piano is contrasted by the use of distortion during ‘The Things That Never Need’ which utilises sampled voices playing over the piano riff.  It may not have been the intention, but the results are spooky and unsettling, more like a hidden bonus track on a metal album than something which should appear midway into a Guided By Voices disc.  While most of ‘Let’s Go Eat…’ is everything you’ve been looking for from GBV’s return, these three tracks really leave a strong impression.

Elsewhere, it’s often business as usual at camp GBV.  ‘How I Met My Mother’ marries staccato riffs and slightly distorted vocals with a really atonal lead guitar part…before dissolving into nothing just over a minute later.   Perhaps overly familiar, ‘The Big Hat & Toy Show’ pushes the bass up front, over which guitars noodle in a Greg Ginn jazz-punk style, while Pollard sounds like he’s shouting into a bucket.  From most bands, this would appear frivolous, but from the world of GBV – like The Fall, surely their closest peers, despite being separated by geography – it’s all part of the charm.   Working from the same basis, ‘The Head’ marks time via the bass before being overlaid by twin guitars, before Fennell’s drums round out the garage band antics.  Fans of any pre-‘Bee Thousand’ releases are likely to get a warm glow of nostalgia from these numbers.

For those looking for something more accessible, the lovely – but all too brief – ‘Doughnut For a Snowman’ explores Pollard’s love of sixties style psych-pop, served up in a 90s alternative slacker way.  The tune is summery and pleasant in contrast with its wintery theme, while the main refrain of “doughnut for a snowman” could stick in your head for days, much in the same way tracks like ‘Tractor Rape Chain’ and ‘Echos Myron’ have in the past.  The decision to use acoustic guitar and keyboards during ‘Chocolate Boy’ to smooth out rather more typical rough edged guitar work is inspired. Attempting maximum jangle in minimum time, it has as much in common with Pollard’s late ’00 recordings as it does GBV; it’s a track which could have fit snugly onto – perhaps – ‘Robert Pollard Is Off To Business’ or ‘Standard Gargoyle Decisions’.  Equally awesome, ‘Either Nelson’ tinkers with structures which could be likened to The Who circa 1966, but twists them into a spiralling ugliness, topped by clanking pianos and what could be a mellotron.  At the centre, you’ll find everything that is enjoyable about mid-90s GBV, but there’s a sense that the band aren’t just repeating themselves.

The mellotron sounds make return during ‘Old Bones’, creating a sickly and unsettling backdrop over which a semi-whispered voice adds to the psychedelic air.  While relatively brief at just over two minutes, it isn’t always pleasant: the droning sounds aren’t unlike a stretched cassette tape – in short, something quite hard on the ears after a while.  The track ends abruptly, leading into ‘Go Rolling Home’, without a pause.  ‘Go Rolling Home’ and the following ‘The Room Taking Shape’ tease the listener by offering little more than a half formed ideas; as usual, the acoustic guitar work is barely in tune and the vocal slap-dash at best.  This pair may or may not be actual songs in the traditional sense, but for most GBV fans, these are set to bring a sense of the familiar; after all, GBV just wouldn’t be the same without these moments.

As always, half the fun here is separating the wheat from the chaff and then allowing the best material time to sink in.  It’s likely to make the greatest impression after you don’t think it’s actually registered at all.  It almost goes without saying ‘Let’s Go Eat The Factory’ is an album for fans only, but those fans are certainly going to find a dozen or so instant Guided By Voices classics within.

January 2012