Iron & WineThe Shepherd’s DogSub PopThree out of five stars
Sam Beam, the enigmatic beardo behind nu-folk phenom Iron & Wine, has ushered in the future of folk with his latest soulful soliloquy, The Shepherd’s Dog. The evidence is in the instrumentation. Sitars slice through psych-rock strains on “White Tooth Man.” The repetitious acoustic plucks of “Boy With A Coin” find fresh air in a hovering atmosphere of haunting guitar effects. However, Beam manages to balance his progressive yearnings with organic roots as raw guitar tones, stand-up bass lines and hand-clapped rhythms prevent old fans from fleeing too far. The Shepherd’s Dog will seduce fans of classic folk and nouveau indie experimentation alike.
All Time LowSo Wrong It’s RightHopeless RecordsTwo out of five stars
So Wrong It’s Right is completely worthless but somehow damned endearing. If you’ve heard the new breed of suburban-born, blink-182-bred, pop-punk boy-bands, you’ve heard All Time Low. The formula is simple: croon some childish love notes of high-school heartbreak in a whiny tenor above mid-tempo pop tunes and bam-major label record contract. Thing is, we’ve all written those love notes and broken those hearts.
On one level, All Time Low masterfully craft odes to our collective adolescence. On the other, So Wrong It’s Right is a collection of pop pablum that was better when it was called Saves the Day, that was better when it was called Green Day, that was better when it was called Descendents, that was better when it was birthed by The Ramones.
DeerhoofFriend OpportunityKill Rock StarsFour out of five stars
Stylistic explanation of Deerhoof’s sound is simply impossible. “The Perfect Me,” the lead track from the Hoof’s eighth full-length album, Friend Opportunity, opens up with a demonic, King Crimson-esque guitar/organ duet above schizophrenic, off-kilter drumming before it gives way to the eerily melodious strains of front woman Satomi Matsuzaki. The track recesses into cosmic feedback for a moment as Matsuzaki moans, “Meet me, meet me, beautiful daughters,” before dropping into a bizzare Chuck Berry-ish rock riff that prefaces a righteous drum solo. As trumpets introduce the album’s second sonic experiment, “+81”, with three full seconds of marching band strut before launching into yet another stylistic odyssey, Deerhoof solidifies its place as baton-twirlers for the new prog-rock masses.