Citizen Cope “The RainWater LP” RainWater Recordings Sounds like: Adam Duritz meets Aqualung Grade: C+ The new LP by Clarence Greenwood, better known as Citizen Cope, is a self-produced effort to get in touch with his music on a more personal level. Released by his own label, RainWater Recordings, the album is commendable for being thoughtful, pithy and almost intentionally wishy-washy. But while it does score some brownie points for having heart and for showing off Greenwood’s versatility, it isn’t enough to redeem its overall dullness and poorly contrived intonations throughout.
Take, for example, one of the more typical tracks, “Lifeline.” Between the strained lyrical imagery and the crooning, monotonous rhythm, Greenwood is only able to skim the surface of bare emotion. There’s too much wavering from tempo to tempo for any proper build up. Then, there are songs like “A Father’s Son” and “Off the Ground” that may seem wilder and more flavorful, but eventually just zip by with little effect. The songs have their moments here and there, but they’re interspersed with far too many trifles to make them noticeable in the slightest.
There is certainly a new depth to this Citizen Cope that makes his production more polished, more hard-hitting than previous works simply because of its seeming novelty. The variety of different genres — everything from alternative rock to reggae — that Greenwood incorporates and pays homage to should be reason enough to listen to it in and of itself. Instead the album is just one long plateau that may be enjoyable and easy-going for some, and boring and inanimate for others.
— STEPHAN CHO
Elizabeth & the Catapult “Taller Children” Verve Music Group Sounds like: Regina Spektor playing for The Hush Sound Grade: A-
What makes “Taller Children” by New York City-based indie rock band Elizabeth & The Catapult such a great album isn’t its charming simplicity, but the fact that it’s so unaware of just that. Elizabeth has a strong quality in both her vocal range and the characteristic of her songs that is so wonderfully understated it makes you want to keep listening just to catch it. She’s able to play off fierce as playful, sappy as romantic.
Right from the opening track “Momma’s Boy,” a folky send-off to a mysterious and presumably needy ex-lover, Elizabeth isn’t abashed about telling it like it is by showing an independence that will stick for most of the album. The song is the perfect balance of charismatic pep talk and spiteful break-up, getting her message across without being too serious or emotional. Listening to slower songs like “Rainiest Day of Summer” makes it seem as if it’s in her character to come off as strong when she’s actually very vulnerable and lonely. The erratic interplay of these songs is never jarring because they show an authenticity to Elizabeth that is always heartfelt.
“Taller Children” is a lot of fun to listen to because it’s a genuine glimpse into the humanity of Elizabeth herself. There’s a song for every mood that is always passionate and never rusty. Just listen to it — it’s simply enchanting.
S.C.
The Burning Hotels “Novels” Summit Entertainment Sounds like: The Bravery except even more boring Grade: D+
From its ambiguously morbid cover art to its consistently shallow and meaningless lyrics of unrequited love, “Novels” by The Burning Hotels sounds like it’s trying too hard to live up to an alternative-indie rock archetype. The band, based in Fort Worth, Texas, does little to inject their songs with original panache, driving through with each hook of generic guitar riffs and clichéd chorus lines. This doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing, because it can work with some effort. But there’s really nothing special about this album save some nice production values.
The songs are just too stodgy and never make any initiative to go beyond the starting point. To prove this, most of the tracks on the album sound almost entirely alike. It tries to maintain this pseudo-effervescent quality that gets tired too early. Opening the album with “Austin’s Birthday” at least a good choice to set the mood — not because the song has any merit but because it at least has an introduction that stands out in comparison to the others.
It’s hard to really put a critical focus on an album that feels like it either tried too hard or didn’t try hard enough. If this debut full-length LP is any indication of how The Burning Hotels will continue to write their music, then it’s probably best to avoid them altogether.
— S.C.
Titus Andronicus “The Monitor” XL Recordings Sounds like: Billy Bragg falling off the wagon
On Titus Andronicus’ new album, “The Monitor,” lead singer Patrick Stickles spends a 14-minute-long finale deriding every aspect of his personality. It’s an honest and personal conclusion to the record, but it’s also a strange one; it tails an hour-long song cycle about the Civil War and its relation to modern attitudes. If Stickles wasn’t confident in his strength going in, he sure chose a weird time to test the limits of punk rock song structure and lyrical depth.
The move toward longer running times is the most instantly recognizable change between “The Monitor” and Titus’ last album, “The Airing of Grievances.” The band shift into new movements and tempos at least twice in every epic-length song, turning what could be an album of dirges into an exercise in build and release. Ambient drones blow up into dual guitar solos and fast songs about getting drunk hit brick walls at their midpoints, becoming melancholy songs about blacking out.
This is where the album deviates from punk rock for the better. The hard guitars and galloping drums from the first album are still around, but the band aren’t afraid to slip a heart-felt bagpipe solo into the end of an otherwise hard song. The two shortest, fastest tracks, “Titus Andronicus Forever” and “...And Ever” don’t make enough of a shift and end up sounding like standard, unchanging hardcore beats against the rest of the album’s experimentation. Things rock on the band’s time and when they want to take it slow, they trust you to give them enough space to try things out.
Some things haven’t changed: Stickles still sings the fast songs like he’s going to die before the album ends and the slow songs like he worries that he’s going to live 50 years after he stops serving a purpose. When Stickles focuses his anger on specific targets, his rants hit, but when he takes on a blind “us against them” struggle in the album’s middle, he loses a heavy chunk of his edge.
Still, that’s the most rewarding aspect of “The Monitor:” every time Titus Andronicus play like a Black Flag cover band or turn a great three minute song into a dull five minute one, they take a three second break and move onto a new track that re-contextualizes its predecessor as its introduction. It’s a grower and an extra-long album — it’s what you’ll still be listening to in December.
— ALEX RUDOLPH
