Jason Lytle – Dept. Of Disappearance

Dept. Of Disappearance

When Jason Lytle broke up his band, Grandaddy, in 2006 he wanted to get away from music, California, and more. But he couldn’t stay away for long and, in 2009, he gave us the beautiful album, Yours Truly, The Commuter which actually landed on the top spot of my 2009 year-end list. Since then, he’s collaborated with members of Earlimart on Admiral Radley, briefly reunited with Grandaddy earlier this year, and now has delivered another beautiful solo album, Dept. Of Disappearance.

Opening with cassette tape test tones from the 80’s the title cut sounds right at home with Lytle’s earlier work. The synths wash, guitars crunch in with the rhythm section, and the soft-sung vocals flow atop the mix with lyrics that blend paranoia, aggression, and mystery. His grasp of melody and densely layered harmonies is instantly on show here and throughout the record. Continue reading

Moon Duo – Circles

Moon Duo – Circles

When I first put on the new Moon Duo record, I expected drones, grooves, and fuzz. It’s those things that I love about their previous two albums (and numerous EPs) so they felt like reasonable expectations. With Circles, I got all of those and a surprising bit more. Guitarist Ripley Johnson (Wooden Shjips) and keyboardist Sanae Yamada, have crafted groovy, shadowy, pop songs from their signature elements and the results hang together in a strong, engaging, album.

The record kicks off with “Sleepwalker” (check it out below in the amusing official video.) Bright, yet distorted, ribbons of  guitar wash through the sharp buzzsaw synth while the groove drives straight into space. There’s clear overtones of 60’s garage pop here; filtered, perhaps, through Spacemen 3. “I Can See” is dark and creepy with its kraut-like rhythm and spiraling, spidery, guitar solo. By contrast, the title track might be the least dark of the nine tracks here. These aren’t just instrumental grooves, either. These are songs and, while the lyrics don’t always pop through the mix, they drive the changes and contain memorable hooks. Continue reading

Matthew White – Big Inner

I know you can’t help
That your smile is the brightest
It’s hard to look away

That (almost) haiku that opens Big Inner, the debut release for Richmond, VA band leader, composer, and beard enthusiast, Matthew E. White. The beard thing is, of course, a joke, but the rest is serious business. Founder and composer for the Richmond collective, Fight The Big Bull, Smith has stepped out in front with this album and may find that people won’t want him to simply direct from behind anymore.

My Copy of Big Inner

Those lyrics kick off the slow swaying opening cut, “One Of These Days” which seems, at first, to be a simple soul number. When White begins humming what may be the second half of the verse, one might mistakenly think he’s already out of ideas. But then the horns swell into the mix, the refrain comes along and dammit if there isn’t a haunting choir on the bridge. Before the tune ends there’s even some strings.

Deceptively simple might be the trademark of this album. Judicious mixing keeps so much at bay that would probably overwhelm a listener if White simply pushed up the faders. This is true of many albums but, on Big Inner, many of the tracks are busting at the seams with horns, strings, an excellent rhythm section, straight ahead soul backing vocals, a full on choir and more. “Big Love” pushes more of these out front as the driving tempo is built to carry the bombast. It starts with a (baritone?) sax bleating in the distance before the groove engages and is followed by White’s soft spoken vocals. Two minutes in, the cut reaches the feverish pitch of backing vocals, strings, and hand claps that is the refrain. Then comes the break down. White is smooth and convincing as he declares:

Girl, I am a barracuda
I am a hurricane

I believe this sort of thing used to be called “blue-eyed soul”. I don’t know what color White’s eyes may be but he’s definitely got some soul. His voice breaks slightly as he sings “Darkness can’t drive out darkness. Only love can do that,” on Jimmy Cliff’s “Will You Love Me.” And, as the band rises up behind him, you know that the vocals are sincere. Continue reading