Junkyard Speedball by Left Lane Cruiser

by Sam Houghton

Classic rock is done, over with, washed-up and so over played that its lifeless corpse has been seen gasping for air in the desert like a sucked through raisin. It has become a nostalgic trip destined to plague the cover of the nostalgia tripping Rolling Stone Magazine until Bono finally gets hit by a bus. Unless of course you haven’t listened to new music. In that case, classic rock is fine – music to fill the void… music to get numb and dumb to. There are still plenty of folk out there who have not had the opportunity and still think U2 is inspiring music. And if you are one of those folk, I am jealous for it must take a great skill to be so ignorant and blissful… but if you’re tired with bliss, new music is out there. It makes you feel good and fresh and one with the young folk around you, which is doubly more inspiring than a billionaire in cheesy sunglasses.

For those curious and still stuck in the past, I suggest you check out Left Lane Cruiser and their new album Junkyard Speedball [Alive Records – 2011]. Their blues inspired, angry hobo rock will help ease you into this realm of new music.

Junkyard Speedball is the third from the Cruisers, produced by Jim Diamond. It is an Alive Naturalsound Record’s classic: barebones, backwoodsy, pure bad ass rock and roll.

On first listen, the hardcore Cruiser fan may be disappointed. It’s a new take, not a Bring Yo’ Ass to the Table type album based entirely on rugged blues. There’s a new quality to the Cruisers that doesn’t forgo the blues completely, but attempts to give it more of a dynamic edge. Compare the opening track to Bring Yo’ Ass, “Wash It,” with Speedball: it sounds like the drum line is played with pots and pans, where as Speedball rises above the low rent vibe. The riffs by Evans are not solely slide work, he seems to be exploring into the wider realm of music. He digs into almost heavy metal riffs on “Represent,” grunge riffs on “Road Again,” and into the Southern Soul thing on “Giving Tree.” Where Bring Yo’ Ass was a one-dimensional album, Speedball explores more territory while keeping the rugged, junkyard trademark of The Cruisers. I think Jim Diamond may have had an effect on these decisions.

For those not in the know, Jim Diamond is mostly known for producing the debut, self-titled White Stripes album and helping with their second, De Stijl (As the story goes, Mr. Diamond was and is fired up over some legal issues with Jack White. Diamond thinks he deserves some of the lush and healthy royalties The White Stripes received after his production expertise. Diamond believes that he helped develop the signature stripped down, White Stripes sound. In a few interviews, Diamond claims that he had no idea that the Stripes would be big, but they were just another band from Detroit: buddies playing music together like the several other rock bands from Detroit then. And producing what many claim to be The White Stripes’ best and rawest album, Jack White himself even, Diamond felt that Mr. White owed him a little something extra - but he didn't get it).

Another Diamond moment came when the Black Keys called him up to see if he would produce an album of theirs, but he shot them down, claiming they were good without him.

Depending on your allegiances, Diamond seems like a sneaky fellow. Either way, his style is bare-bones, Detroit rock. He has become a favorite to the Alive Naturalsound folk producing the debut solo album of James Leg (Black Diamond Heavies, the big noise organist who makes a few appearances on Speedball... “Giving Tree” for one), and has also garnered a well respected name for himself in the entire garage rock movement.

Junkyard Speedball is Diamond’s first production with Left Lane Cruiser. The question has got to be asked if this collaboration worked and whether or not they, also, would have been better without production help. The work on Bring Yo’ Ass is simplified music. The songwriting of the band sticks out without reverb and feedback intruding over the sound. Evans’ country blues slide work is brilliant. All You Can Eat [Alive – 09] is a notch higher in blues punk, bordering on heavy metal blues. I think that Speedball is an attempt to reach a larger fanbase, the less backwoodsy and less bluesy folk, and I think it will work, yet it must be said that Bring Yo’ Ass is a better album. Speedball has too much extraneous noise going on, an attempt to make it a more rock and roll band, instead of a blues band. I think they have yet to realize how good of an album Bring Yo’ Ass is. While Speedball keeps some of that classic, rugged sound, the songs get caught-up with other ideas.

That being said, “Giving Tree” and “Cracker Barrel” are two of the best songs the band has given us. Call them big game singles even. When all said and done, Junkyard Speedball is still a great album… it’s new music with an edge, but the hardcores might think it falls short. 

By Leah B.

Zach Condon's left arm could have a lot to do with Beirut's non-traditional indie-rock sound. 

The band's lead singer, according to an interview with Treble Magazine, had an accident during childhood that caused his left arm to be an inch shorter than his right, making guitar very difficult to play. Naturally, he stopped guitaring and turned instead to less traditional instruments: ukuleles; accordions; trumpets; euphoniums and flugelhorns, mastered them, and thus created Beirut's unique sound. Accident or not, it works. 

So, is their new album, The Rip Tide [Pompeii Records – ‘11], true to their eclectic, folky sound? Original, unique, fresh sounds often seem to fizzle out after a couple of albums and reluctantly settle into the category of the bland and mundane. But what about Mr. Condon and his short left arm?

The new album opens with “A Candle’s Fire,” a triumphant Beirut-esque track with a symphony of blended horns, rolling drums and the beautiful drones of Condon's voice-beyond-his-years, raspy croon. The next track, “Santa Fe,” features an intro that's so catchy it's almost poppy. Midway through the track, a stunning bridge comprised solely of a tapping drum and Condon's voice, pure and resilient, emits.

“East Harlem” is a slow, folky lullaby that starts off a transition into a three-song long, pace changer tucked right in the middle of the album. “Goshen” is so slow it's almost in rewind. Condon's voice takes a gentler tone with a melody that sounds familiar and a bit cliché, but still strangely unique and distinguished.

“Payne's Bay” is more upbeat – almost march-worthy. It has a beautiful dipping and rising horn melody that's both repetitive and fresh in one. It's a victorious ditty that proclaims for the final two minutes "Headstrong today, I've been headstrong" over the crashing of cymbals and short, high bursts of horn mixed with the occasional deep blast of a tuba. It's possibly one of the best tracks on the album.

The title track, “The Rip Tide,” follows next as a slow-down. For the title track, stuck smack dab in the middle of the album, it seems something of a low point. It does everything that Beirut does well, but not to the fullest potential. It's a rambling tune, much in their style, but something of it feels drab without that little punch that's usually thrown in. It ends with the fizzling out of a trumpet and never returns.

Vagabond revives the mood with Condon's smooth voice sounding effortlessly hopeful and a gorgeous accordion bridge. It leads into a melodious ending that tumbles into the next track, The Peacock, before you have time to process the change. “The Peacock” features the simplest and most mesmerizing harmony on the entire album. The song is short, but ends with a beautiful, creeping melody that inspire chills.

The final track, “Port of Call,” is a clean, precise ending that requires a gentle head bob it's so joyful. The final track embodies everything that's great about this album, and really, everything that's great about Beirut.

What makes Beirut even better is the fact that these guys are great live. Condon's voice rolls out effortlessly and the band's harmony is marvelous.

After a couple sets at Terminal 5, they will be traveling out to Chicago, playing at the historic Congress Theater on September 26th. Their shows tend to go long and the band members are known to hang out afterwards. Buying tickets in advance and booking a hotel close to the venue is a good idea. Road trip, baby!

Overall, The Rip Tide stays true to the sound this band has been cultivating over the course of six years.  Beirut is celebratory but mournful, triumphant but defeated, cheerful but sobering — a feat that's not easily pulled off.

By Sam Houghton

8/11

Looming over this week’s cover to New York Magazine is the dull headline: “Rock: Still Dead.” Ten years since the Slim Shady LP, twenty since Nevermind: the last white, male hopes bringing the doldrums back to a happy snuff. Kurt Cobain is dead and Emenem is pissing out horrid pop jingles. For what seems like 50 years, Rock and Roll has been the rebellious voice for generation after generation. But alas, rock: still dead. It is for the old folk now, clinging on to mind-dumbing nostalgia trips for when things get too complex. It will be heard rattling out of too trebly speakers in dental offices and classic rock stations until the opening licks to “Stairway to Heaven” finally lead to World War III. Alas.

But for those of you who don’t give a shit about voices for the masses and you still, full-heartedly, enjoy raging out to rock songs on your couch with the most bodacious air guitar attacks, then you will no doubt enjoy the debut album of a little known band called The London Souls.

The Souls rail out an almost frighteningly unoriginal form of rock and roll: the record was done in Abbey Road studios, it is rich with guitar solos throughout, the singer sounds like Lenny Kravitz, and it even features a song called “Old Country Road.” There is just something silly to the album that I can’t put my finger on. But the point here is: to form a straight-up rock and roll band now a-days has become sadly cliché.

But cliché or not, there’s a whole hell of a lot of good energy ringing out of this album that disregards the last 30 years of music and delves right into the 60s state of mind. They’d fit in right there with Marvin Gaye or Cream and all those freaks. And aside from a few jam-bandy quirks I could do without, The London Souls debut album is an absolute gem. If people still bought albums and with the right promotion, this album could be a serious contender for mainstream success. I just don’t hold much hope for the rest of the current masses. "I Think I Like It" is a rip-snorting jam, full of ringing guitars and a great build-up. "Dizzy" follows "I Like It" with a well written, Abbey Road-esq number. And "The Sound" is another great one, perfect for air guitars aficionados.   

The Souls have cut their chops around the local New York circuit and have also ventured into the Jam band circuit, after adding a little funk to their rock standards. They were listed this year as a headliner at Mountain Jam where they have played for two years running. They have been a band for over four years and are just now putting out their first full length, featuring many songs of which they have played since their beginnings. 

By Leah B.

On August 9^th, Captured Tracks is slated to release the debut album of the Brooklyn-based band Widowspeak.

The ten-song, self-titled LP will feature Widowspeak’s delightful brand of nostalgic, lo-fi garage/surf rock.  Though Widowspeak has only been together for a year, their frequent local gigs and their beautiful EP vinyl releases have already garnered them a deserved bundle of positive attention.

The music foregrounds the breathy, ethereal vocals of Molly Hamilton and supports her with a simple 50s-inspired style of shoegaze.  Robert Earl Thomas (lead guitar) adds a more confident and bluesy hook to the melody, serving as a counterpoint to Hamilton’s longer, looser phrases.  Michael Stasiak (drums) lays a minimalist, understated skeleton beneath the ethereal waves.  The overall effect is a sound that is relaxed, romantic, and psychedelic, akin to 90s-style Mazzy Star.

Widowspeak the album will feature the songs “In the Pines,” “Nightcrawlers,” and “Hard Times,” as well as the single “Gun Shy.”  “Gun Shy” is a nostalgic, vital tune that conjures images of tumbleweeds rolling through ghost towns in the desert.  “Hard Times” thrums and shimmers with an artsy dance energy similar to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.  Listening to the track in stereo with my hip Klipsch headphones adds a psychedelic panning effect that increases the song’s sense of movement. “Nightcrawlers” is the most upbeat, almost-frantic song of the bunch, while “In the Pines” is the most pensive and progressive track.

Making a full-length album so soon is a major accomplishment for the band.  They formed just last year when Hamilton and Stasiak came to New York from Tacoma and Thomas from Chicago.  From very early on the band began to gain notoriety—Hamilton is renowned as a heartthrob, while Stasiak was recently featured in the Gothamist.  The band boasts to an eclectic mix of influences including Lawrence Welk, The Cranberries, and Bruce Springsteen.

This album will be the third release from Widowspeak.  In February they released a 7” vinyl EP featuring the tracks “Harsh Realm” and “Burnout,” and in June they released another 7” vinyl, this time a single for the song “Gun Shy,” which will appear on their upcoming album.  The B side of “Gun Shy” is a sultry rendition of Chris Issak’s “Wicked Game” that has garnered the band a lot of attention.  “The Harsh Realm” is alive with a warm, organic thrum that somehow reminds me of the zydeco-infused swamp-pop of C.C. Adcock.  “Burnout” is methodical ballad that repeatedly rises in energy only to crash back into hazy dreamscapes.

While Widowspeak is still in their infancy, they have shown remarkable promise, and I have a lot of hope for their first full-length release.

by Sam Houghton

5/11

photo from The Village VoiceLead singer and guitarist O.J. San Felipe of the X Ray Eyeballs tries really hard. He spits liquids into zealous photographers, hops up on the bass drum, and screams out his lyrics with popping neck veins and all that good stuff – everything you could hope for in a punk rock frontman. But despite all of his riveting gimmicks, he gives the impression of a pesky dolt juxtaposed to the rest of his band. Sadly, his band appears as if they were rustled out of a nursing home, or perhaps they were popping Quaaludes in the dressing room prior to the set – they seem just plain bored with the music. Yet upon further inquire, the mask of ennui is merely a cover-up for that which all groups posing as punk bands should stay clear of: Fear. Punk rock is all about passion, and a scared punk band might suggest that their passion is lacking – contrived rather than earned. Midway through their show at Death by Audio last week, at a pivotal juncture in a song, the bass player looked me square in the eyeballs. I have no more reservations with eye contact than the next guy, but the look came off as pure panic on the part of the musician. She seemed to be questioning her existence on the stage instead of “feeling” the beat. The look was comparable to a stiff B actor casting a sidewise glance into the camera, which is funny on Days of Our Lives, but this is the Brooklyn music scene where we take our live shows seriously. And their music embodied the bands awkwardness on stage: there wasn’t much passion behind it and felt contrived. Perhaps I am too harsh, but when a band receives this much attention (solid reviews even from Pitchfork), gets signed to a newly flourishing label (Kanine), and headlines some great Indie venues (Knitting Factory, DbyA), one should pose the question why? Is there not some corporate gimmicks happening behind our backs. The truth of the matter is that bands can often nail down some wicked hooks and beats, but when it comes to performing, they come up limp. In the age of the internet and mediafire, and unfortunately for the Eyeballs, the live act is what will carry a band.