Newcomers attending the show should be delighted at the accessible blend of melodic punk, rock and Indie that guitarist Ryan Herbert describes as “inspired rock.” Inspired by what exactly?

Like all bands, The Capshuns are loathe to compare their sound to other bands, but lead singer Patrick O. did admit that they listened to The Clash’s 1979 classic “London Calling” quite a bit during the time they wrote the tracks for Time to Say.

It definitely shows on the album, not just in the punk influence but also in the way The Capshuns challenge themselves to try different styles and avoid getting bogged in one sound. Even more impressive is their answer to that album’s legendary title track. On “Rome,” Time to Say’s hard-hitting rocker, the band creates something with the raw power and cool of “London Calling” without copying The Clash outright.

Of all the tracks on this LP, “Rome” is the most perfectly executed. It starts slow and loose before exploding behind the pounding blast beat of drummer Will Fowler, a man who vaguely resembles John Bonham, both physically and in his heavy-handed drumming. Add to that bassist Dan Komin’s walking fills, Herbert’s leads (made distinct by his semi-hollow guitar) and O.’s slight snarl, and you have a track that will surely turn heads.

The Clash isn’t the only Brit band that The Capshuns owe for their sound. Silverlake in 2010 may not resemble ‘80s London all that closely, but this band has definitely earned comparison to the likes of The Smiths and The Cure. While they may lack the emotional weight of these groups, their catchy hooks and style show flashes of this kind of greatness.

Songs like opening track “Ekam Sat” and old-school punk rocker “Her Lover’s Thunder” hearken back to The Smiths’ “Sweet and Tender Hooligan.” At other times, however, the band sounds a lot more contemporary. The album’s title track, for instance, would be right at home on fellow Silverlake band Eulogies’ last album. The start-and-stop drum beat and the melodic chorus combine to create the perfect Indie rock storm.

The crowd at Spaceland will be treated to a feast of tracks like these, but for those unable to attend, the album will be available on iTunes.

The Capshuns are a group that pays homage to the past while keeping a keen eye on the future. They’re confident that they can break it big, and with songs like these, they‘ve got a shot. Time to Say is a good self-released Indie album, but it may not be long before it’s re-released on a major label.

The audience was rapt as LaMontagne related personal stories in the same down-home, heart-on-his-sleeve way that he writes his lyrics. Growing up poor and with so many siblings created some difficult times for the young man, but from adversity came the character that shines through in each of his songs. The mood was somber yet celebratory in the power of the music.

Early on in the show, LaMontagne spoke about a recent appearance on Elvis Costello’s Spectacle. Costello talked about how there are certain songs that, even decades after they’ve been written, will continue to draw people to your music. And, according to Costello, for LaMontagne, that song is “Jolene.” A beautiful tune about a down-and-out man coping with the collapse of a relationship, LaMontagne played it with the all emotion it warrants. Just one guitar and one voice conveyed so much in those four minutes — more than entire symphonies playing for hours at a stretch.

LaMontagne played from his entire three-album catalog throughout the night — the strongest material coming from his first album, Trouble. The classic singer/songwriter harmonica on “Narrow Escape” and the tender promises of “Shelter” made the 2000-seat theatre feel intimate. He also managed to slip in a couple of covers during the performance, including songs by Townes Van Sant and Lucinda Williams.

Going back to Trouble to end the show, LaMontagne played that album’s closing track. Even without the string arrangement, “All The Wild Horses” had the same haunting quality live. One of the most charming things about LaMontagne’s first album is its raw, exposed tones, heard nowhere as prevalently as on this song. With his harmonica filling in for the strings, the experience was even more heart-rending. And even though it’s always exciting for artists to play their newest songs (as LaMontagne himself admitted), here’s hoping he continues to play ones like these for years to come.

Equal parts boogier and balladeer, Slim plays early ‘70s-era singer/songwriter folk, drenched in the embellishments of his very able backing band. Within the first minute, it was easy to see why he has been compared to Cat Stevens. Not only does his music hearken back to those simpler times, his voice bears an uncanny resemblance to Stevens’s.

The show began the same way as the album, with “Back to the Wild,” a romp of an anthem that wouldn’t be out of place on the Into the Wild soundtrack. Slim’s driving acoustic guitar was augmented by the symphonic sounds of new edition David Moore’s keyboard. Along with longtime partners Malachi DeLorenzo and Paul Defiglia on drums and upright bass, respectively, the band recreated the album’s sound nicely. That’s not to say that the live experience is identical to the studio recordings, but too often, great folk recordings get the “acoustic” treatment live, peeling away all the musical layers that often add new dimensions and depth. Luckily for Slim and co., that wasn’t the case.

The set-list represented a fairly comprehensive cross-section of the album. Slower piano ballads, like the title track, showcased Slim’s soulful side, albeit lacking the charm of the album’s country slide guitar. A top caliber crooner, Slim poured passion into simple lyrics like, “Every garden can grow / Every mouth can form a smile.” It’s just a matter of letting go in this song — the emotional release reflected in the pained vocals.

On the other side of the spectrum, honky-tonk powerhouses like “Cinderella” created a frenetic celebration. Replete with rollicking piano lines and shouted backing vocals, songs like this helped buoy the more emotive aspects of the show. Despite all the mood changes, it never felt disingenuous; Slim looked just as comfortable wearing a pained expression as he did jumping for joy.

Mixed in with the new songs were some older Slim standards, like love song “Colette” and blues rocker “Honey Pie.” Noticeably absent from the set list, however, was the heartrending “I Love You But Goodbye.” A standout track on the album, it came as a bit of a shock when Slim forewent it in favor of songs from previous albums, especially at an industry showcase. But I guess a song like that doesn’t really need any promotion; it stands out all by itself.

The band wrapped up the show with the album’s other inescapable single, “Say Yes.” A consummate pop masterpiece, this song made use of all the band’s talents. DeLorenzo’s play with the brush and stick created the perfect dynamic backdrop for Slim’s acoustic roots. The bass and piano rounded out the sound, highlighting the simple shifts that make this song stand out.

Be Set Free is a great folk album with all the charm of a Cat Stevens classic, if not quite the emotional poignancy. Live or recorded, Slim and his band are an impressive musical force. They’ll be back in town this November at The Troubadour in support of the new album. Even if you own all their albums, this is a band worth seeing live.

On his second LP this year, Pete Yorn teams with actress Scarlett Johansson to achieve most of the aforementioned feats. Break Up is a concept album that loosely follows the (you guessed it!) dissolution of a relationship. The songs, almost all of which were penned by Yorn, represent some of his catchiest and most accessible songs to date.

Considering this album was recorded before his last release, this year’s Back & Fourth, it’s easy to see the direction he was moving in. There’s a country air about this album, much like the Omaha-recorded B & F, especially on tracks like the banjo-twanged “Wear and Tear.” Yorn’s vocals are right at the forefront of this — as well as many other — songs, with straightforward lyrics, like “I sleep every day in your room / I sit every night wondering where it is I’m going / Can I say what I do.” Lyrics like these, simple yet poignant in their imagery, cement the fact that Yorn is inhabiting more true-to-life characters in his songs, with positive results.

Scarlett’s presence is highly limited, however — her vocals awash in fuzz and largely relegated to the background. This is one of the album’s few drawbacks: Pete is the major presence and, considering he penned all but one of the songs, this can feel like a solo project at times. But Scarlett does have a charm all her own that, when allowed to shine, pays major dividends. Even side by side, she sometimes draws attention away from Yorn.

Take the do-wop styling of “I Don’t Know What To Do,” for instance. Initially, the two trade verses in standard fashion, with Pete leading the charge. But when Scarlett joins him midway through the bridge, suddenly she’s the lead vocalist. Bringing in additional back-up vocalists lends these parts half a chamber-choir’s vocal muscle over a lush but subdued arrangement.

Odd timing and an odder title make “Blackie’s Dead” the obligatory quirky track of the bunch. Catchier than “Murray” and more heartfelt than “Burrito,” this song should please even the most die-hard fan of Yorn’s early career. Chronicling the relationship between a guy’s tough persona and the girl who (he thinks) buys into it, Yorn laments that “I’m in love with a girl that sees what you are.” Once again, however, this song could have benefited from more verses for Scarlett, which could have fleshed out her character a little better.

As the album goes on, the songs become, naturally, more somber. Lone cover “I Am the Cosmos” lives up to its spacey name, with vocals shooting from across space to back Scarlett’s galactic odyssey. “Shampoo” is the kind of song you’d like to play over the end-credits of an indie love story that doesn’t quite end happily — catchy enough but with a sober quality that comes from disillusion and acceptance. Like a clock in the last days of a relationship, “Clean” ticks and echoes the desire not to see it all come to an end. “Would you talk to me?” they ask. If only.

At the end of the day, however, this album lives and dies by its catchy lead single, “Relator.” As Pete himself sings, “You can leave whenever you want out.” But, with ’60s pop swagger and an infectious lead line like that, who would want to?

“They say that home is where the heart is / I guess I haven’t found my home,” she sings over a delicately twinkling piano on “Are We There Yet,” the album’s third track. It sounds a bit cliché, but  that’s kind of the point. On this song in particular — and really the album as a whole — the angel-voiced singer/songwriter plumbs the heretofore heavily-scoured depths of love and relationships, somehow managing to keep it poignant.

It’s not as if she hasn’t done it before, but too often, when artists examine questions of longing and relationships, the result can devolve into forced sentimentality and mendaciousness. In Michealson’s case, however, the clichés really highlight and counterbalance the fact that these feelings are constantly being examined. Sometimes it seems like we’ve reached the threshold for love songs. But when Michaelson asks, “Are we there yet?” — hitting that falsetto, high and clear — it reminds us of why we ask these questions in the first place.

Admittedly, the routine runs a bit thin at times. Opening track “Soldier,” while catchy and heavy (for Michaelson), takes the “Love is a Battlefield” concept nowhere. It lacks the dark power of previous songs like “Die Alone,” and the verse is eerily reminiscent of the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Snow.” But, even during moments like these, the power of her vocals outweighs the pitfalls.

At once soft and cradling, forceful and determined, Michaelson exudes pure emotion through her distinctive voice — an instrument as versatile as it is emotive. Her humming at the beginning of the title track is fun and inviting, yet on French-pop waltz “Men of Snow,” she sounds downright operatic.

That kind of range is definitely needed on Everybody, an album that builds on the success of 2007’s Girls and Boys, her latest proper studio album. Michaelson has clearly picked up a few new tricks in the last couple of years. “Incredible Love” has the sultry jazz feel of a Fiona Apple single and, “Once Was Love” takes on a fuzzed-out synth quality in addition to the aforementioned waltz.

But what really makes the album shine is the stellar production. Michaelson’s voice is a wonderful once, but looped into harmonies and multiple backing parts, it really soars. And although the live tracks on her Be OK album were a lot of fun, the shifting dynamics here reach near-symphonic heights, weaving her vocals between not only the standard guitar and piano but, in some cases, accordion and ukulele.

All these elements come to a head on “Mountain and the Sea,” a touching love song (what else) that takes simple lyrics to new heights atop a melodic wave pushed by Michaelson’s peerless pipes. The accompaniment is genius, with the drums busting double-time on the high-hat and hand claps taking this well past the realm of mainstream pop. Her vocals double and harmonize to a melody that is as catchy as anything she’s written to date.

One thing missing from this album that made Girls and Boys stand out are the quirky, anecdotal lyrics. The arrangements are often quirky, though never out of a self-indulgent need to be “experimental.” And when the lyrics do stray from the beaten path, they tend to be metaphorical. Sorry if you loved “The Hat” (as I did), but it seems that Ingrid is speaking to a larger audience now and wants to be more universal. But hey, she earned it. And even without all the lyrics about knitting and Rogaine and lobstermen — even without the glasses — she’s just as captivating as ever.

Anaheim, California – Pete Yorn stood before a cheering crowd Friday night, July 10th, as he made his first pass through the Southland on his current tour. The opening number was familiar — one of the first songs fans heard at the start of this decade, and his career. With his guitar conspicuously absent, the 34-year-old looked more like the frontman for a rock band and less like the image of a lone singer/songwriter he evokes. There is a certain covetous aspect to playing acoustic and singing your song, but not for this one; “Strange Condition” belonged to everyone in attendance that night.

Yorn is currently touring in support of his latest release, Back & Fourth, but Friday’s show at the House of Blues, Anaheim, was peppered with songs old and new. After wowing the crowd with the classic single, Yorn strapped on his acoustic guitar and launched into two tracks from his newest album, “Last Summer” and “Shotgun.” The catchy new songs played well, but nothing could compare to the furor created every time he delved into something from musicforthemorningafter. It’s Yorn’s first album and, judging by crowd reaction, is still the favorite among his fans.

The crowd went into full sing-along mode for the early anthem about the Beach Boys’ father, “Murray.” An acoustic version of “Closet,” followed by cryptic love song “Black,” had the crowd screaming for more.

But the night was hardly restricted to those two albums, as Yorn made his way through his entire catalog, a couple of covers, and an unreleased track. “The Man”’s country vibe was accented when the band played it acoustic; “Crystal Village” was as bright and crystalline as ever with an extensively vamped intro; and New Order’s “Bizarre Love Triangle” takes on entirely new dimensions behind Yorn’s warble and stripped-down instrumentation. It’s fun to hear these new wave classics reworked by more organic contemporary artists, like Cary Brothers’ cover of The Thompson Twins’ “If You Were Here.”

After briefly reviving the ‘80s, Yorn went back to the beginning with the perennially popular “Life on a Chain,” his first ever single and the first track on his first album. Jangly folk rhythms engulfed the elated, culminating with Yorn tossing his harmonica into the crowd after a brief but inspired solo.

Following a finale like that would be no easy task but, luckily for fans, he had saved the best for last. Having swapped his acoustic out for a Mustang during the encore break, Yorn returned to the stage to rock the delirious/demure Nightcrawler single, “For Us.” But what really got the crowd excited was the instantly recognizable piano intro to “Lose You,” Yorn’s ultimate ballad and a favorite of television and movie producers.

“This song saved my life,” he admitted before launching full-bore into “For Nancy,” essentially completing what he started at the beginning of the night with “Strange Condition.” Yorn knows what his fans want and is quick to deliver. With seven tracks on the set list, musicforthemorningafter was the undisputed winner among Yorn’s catalogue, but this wasn’t a rehashing of the past. Rather, he continues to try new things and grow as an artist; he even closed the show with “Rock Crowd,” which has yet to even be released. But he never forgets why he’s up there on stage — why the fans took such a shine to him in the first place.

From the second the sound of his signature scratchy vocals herald it in to the moment they fade out, Pete Yorn’s Back & Fourth showcases an artist at his most emotionally exposed. There is a marked maturity to this album, the film-inspired tracks and convenience store memories gone in favor of the vulnerability that comes with laying your soul completely bare.

The production of Bright Eyes’ Mike Mogis is almost instantly evident on this album. Songs like “Country” were clearly inspired by the time Yorn spent recording the album in Saddle Creek territory, also known as Nebraska. Eschewing L.A. in favor of Omaha seemed like a cardinal sin at first, but the time spent there clearly revived Yorn’s creative juices.

In addition to the increased feeling of earnestness on this album, the arrangements are played closer to the chest. Yorn’s last two albums, Nightcrawler and Day I Forgot, had a slick veneer that sometimes obscured the songs’ sentiments. Mogis did an excellent job of bringing some of the loose, gritty feel of Yorn’s live performances onto this album.

“Don’t Wanna Cry,” which has been available for download since March, opens the album with Yorn’s unmistakable warble and a melody built on adventurous chord changes. It’s the first single from Back & Fourth, and the first example of the kind of plainspoken honesty this album offers.

That’s not to imply that Yorn hasn’t always had a knack for this sort of thing; there are great examples on all three of his previous studio efforts. But on this album, Yorn doesn’t hide behind characters — either real (“Murray”) or imagined (“So Much Work”) -– at all. I always enjoyed the quirky edge of a love song told from Jack the Ripper’s point of view (“Simonize”), but on this album, he sticks to some of his most fertile emotional ground.

For example, “Country” borrows lyrics from musicforthemorningafter’s “Just Another,” possibly referencing his failed relationship with Winona Ryder. Also evident is the influence of his Nebraska surroundings and a previous collaboration with The Dixie Chicks’ Natalie Maines. The strings aren’t quite country, but they’re present, nonetheless.

“Social Development Dance” implements a musical structure somewhat similar to “Don’t Wanna Cry,” and this album is a lot more cohesive than any Yorn has previously released. The Mogis/Omaha influence can be felt in every song, although the songs are still very much Pete Yorn compositions.

This song contains some of the more oddly enchanting lyrics on this album, including, “I Googled you in quotes, got no results.” It may be the strongest track on the album, although many are nearly as memorable and just as insightful. Even though he has some fun with the lyrics here, there’s nothing cryptic about the song. His feelings are still on full display as he sings about connecting with someone and failing to reconnect later. “There’s something missing in us, we tried to make it whole, though it never felt like it, I know you had it all.”

Reflection is a huge part of this album, whether it’s remembering Winona or a girl he went to a dance with. Perhaps no song highlights this fact more than the driving “Last Summer,” a realization and an afterthought about a relationship that probably wasn’t right to begin with. This song effectively closes out Back & Fourth’s faster front six and makes way for the final four.

“Thinking Of You” is ethereal and (obviously) pensive — the cymbal crashes and strings rising to near-exaltation as the song builds to an emotionally powerful crescendo. Closing out the album are two piano-driven numbers, the heavy-hearted “Four Years” and the resigned “Long Time Nothing New.” Despite the title of the latter, there is a lot that’s new about this song, and this album as a whole. Yorn is looser than he’s ever been on the piano on this track; it’s like the instrument is finally able to match the jangly freedom of his guitar. He closes the album, fittingly, with the simple statement, “I’m here.” Like so many simple lyrical truths that precede it on this album, this line speaks volumes about how far Pete Yorn has come as an artist. After some highly creative and somewhat shielded albums, he has finally stripped away all the layers to stand here, emotionally earnest and affecting.

An accomplished musician with two LPs and an EP of duets to his credit, Echo Park resident AM is someone you may not have heard of, but that’s soon to change. Chances are, if you’re a fan of KCRW’s Morning Becomes Eclectic, “Brothers and Sisters,” “Greek” or a myriad of other shows, you’ve probably already heard his music. Fusing simple, intelligent lyrics with pop melodies and international flavor, AM creates music for the casual and contemplative listener. At a recent Spaceland show in Silver Lake, California, he debuted some songs from his forthcoming album, Future Sons and Daughters. Prior to the show, he sat down with Buzzine over Pad Thai and cashew chicken to talk about his new musical direction.

Casey Thompson: Let’s talk about the new record, Future Sons and Daughters.

AM: I just finished it — produced by myself with a fellow named Charles Newman, who does a lot of Magnetic Fields’ records. We just wrapped it up and I’m super stoked about it. It’s definitely a lot more playful, I think, than previous records. It’s less serious and more fun.

CT: In terms of subject matter?

AM: Yeah, new ground in subject matter and new ground with musicianship. It’s a lot more groovy. I think the Brazilian influences are a lot more evident. There’s definitely a lot of percussion on the record and a grooviness about several of the songs that stems from late ‘60s Brazilian salsa and samba.

CT: Is there any particular reason you’ve decided to shy away from the traditional folk sound?

AM: Yeah, I never really felt like I was in the traditional folk world. I think if you listen back to most of my records, there’s sort of a pervasive pop element, but this record in particular is definitely…like I said, I guess wearing my influences more on my sleeve.

CT: Do you still use a lot of acoustic instrumentation?

AM: Acoustic guitar is still there, but there’s so much other percussion and groovy, trippy synthesizers and organs, and stuff around that. The acoustic is part of the mix, but by no means is it integral. And then there’s also a lot of nylon-stringed acoustic guitar, which is obviously equated with a lot of Brazilian music…and some ukulele too.

CT: Were you classically trained on guitar?

AM: No, absolutely not. I was a horrible student and I was a last-minute guy. The night before lessons, I was sweating it out. But I should mention that my bass player, Mark Getten, is taking lessons right now from the legendary Carol Kaye, who of course played on more than a handful of Motown records and is just a phenomenal bass player — probably one of the most groovy bass players still around.

CT: Are you still doing a lot of politically minded songs?

AM: That’s there, but I still don’t really draw much of a difference between when you’re talking about politics or you’re talking about personal relationships. The same fundamental rules, I think, can be applied to any situation. There are songs on the record that deal heavily with the issue of mercy, but that can be applied anywhere — that can be applied to age-old political battles that won’t rest, but it can also be applied to age-old personal grudges that people hold on to one another forever, sometimes without resolving those tensions. I think sometimes it is easier to make amends for people than you can imagine it being. You always feel like you may be acquiescing, but there’s a freedom that comes along with it.

CT: What about when it comes to the perpetrators of torture?

AM: Yeah, I’m not talking about that…

CT: Do you have any plans to revive the Duets series?

AM: Yeah, definitely. Since I put Volume 1 on the first one, I forced myself to produce more volumes. It’s sort of a built-in obligation, but yes, I am going to do another one. I’m hoping to do that this year.

CT: Do you have any particular artists in mind?

AM: I’ve got a few, but I’m going to stay quiet on that right now because I don’t want to jinx it. Some pretty cool stuff could be going down. Nothing’s set in stone, but I’ve been talking to a lot of people. The thing about the duets is it’s about me connecting with artists directly. It’s not about managers talking to managers; it’s about me personally reaching out to an artist or a friend and saying, “Do you want to be a part of this?” and just keeping it as real as I can.

CT: Does that have anything to do with the artistic community of the Hotel Café, where you got your start?

AM: That has something to do with the first [Duets], though there were a couple of artists on the first one that really had nothing to do with Hotel Café. They were, in fact, from different countries. But that’s where I saw a lot of friends and a lot of very talented people. I started with my immediate friends.

CT: You’ve played on the Hotel Café Tour before, which features a lot of collaboration between artists.

AM: Absolutely. It’s a really cool thing and definitely geared toward community.

CT: Do you have any interest in doing the Hotel Café Tour again?

AM: I’m totally always interested, but we’ll have to see when it happens and what’s going on… It’s all about scheduling.

CT: The Hotel Café has helped launch the careers of several talented artists.

AM: Absolutely. It’s exciting also because I’m starting to foray over into another section of Los Angeles — I’d probably say a more band-oriented section of town -– which is Silver Lake and Echo Park. The Echo and Spaceland have their own thing going too. That’s the cool thing about Los Angeles: there are so many different pockets and there’s stuff going on. I go down to this place in Fullerton called the Continental Club, and I see a lot of Boogaloo and Latin music out there, and there’s a whole different thing happening in other sections of town. That’s what’s so cool about living here — that you have places like the Hotel Café, you have places like The Echo and Spaceland, and you have places like The Mint that cater more towards, like, worldly stuff.

CT: Is playing with a full band new to you?

AM: I’ve always had a band; I could just never afford to take them on the road. I never wanted to be the lone folk guy, but it just kind of happened out of necessity. To go across the world, sometimes you have to make concessions.

CT: Your press release describes your band as more of a symphony than a rock band.

AM: Basically, what we meant by that is it’s not your traditional rock band. It’s key[board]s, bass, acoustic guitar, electric guitar…but I think you’ll see at the show that it’s all carefully arranged. Everything is in its right place and it’s not “all systems go.” It’s kind of like you’d see in a classic ‘70s band with all these different people doing their thing. Case in point is a lot of Brazilian stuff. It’s less about what you’re actually playing and more about how you’re playing it. There’s a lot of space — a chamber ensemble, that’s the word.

In the second part of AM’s interview with Buzzine, he discusses Brazilian music, Nietzschean philosophy, the inner workings of his songwriting technique and, of course, the legendary Carole Kaye.

CT: What kind of music are you listening to right now?

AM: Lately I’ve been listening to a lot of Italian soundtrack stuff, a lot of Brazilian music…and then of course some ‘60s music, R & B, Patti Drew, Aretha Franklin, and then venturing into the Turkish side of things. New artists (new to me) like Felta, and another crazy guy, Mustafa Ozkent. Basically, I’ve been looking around the world and what was going on in the ‘60s and ‘70s in every other country but the U.S. I’m kind of investigating because, to me, the best music was created between ‘65 and ‘75 –- some of my favorite music, I should say -– so it’s interesting to see what was going on in different parts of the world during that time.

CT: What American and British music do you like from that time period?

AM: The Byrds…of course The Beatles, Beach Boys; David Axelrod — another sort of fusion-oriented jazz — was credited with being ostensibly the first guy to invent fusion music. Carole Kaye actually played on a lot of those sessions, which brings us back to the fact that my bass player is taking lessons [from Carole Kaye]. It’s still unbelievable to me.

CT: I notice there aren’t any singer/songwriters on your list.

AM: No, that’s a mischaracterization [about me]. It’s definitely going to become more of a mischaracterization as time goes on too. I’ve always loved the classic singer/songwriters: Cat Stevens, James Taylor…of course I love all that stuff. It’s undeniably great, but musically, for me, I’m just at a place where I want to have a little more fun. I find groove music tends to just be more fun.

CT: Do you play multiple instruments?

AM: No, I don’t. I’m mostly just a guitar-player and singer. I’m an amateur bass player and an amateur keyboard player in the sense that I can come up with cool sounds and play very simple lines. I can’t play piano. I’m a writer and a singer and a guitar player first and foremost. There are so many amazing musicians out there that have been doing this for so long. I want them to come in and add their thing. There’s nothing like playing with a great bass player. Why would I want to play the bass when there are so many guys that have dedicated their lives to being great bass players? I think it’s best when everybody just focuses on what they do best. I think that’s when the best work is created.

CT: If you could play with any musicians that have ever lived, what would your dream band be?

AM: Probably Earl Palmer and Carole Kaye holding down the rhythm section; keys: Richard Wright from Pink Floyd; guitar –- that’s really hard… Guitar would just have to be me. [Laughs] No, I’m just at a loss.

CT: What other styles of music would you like to explore now?

AM: I would really love to make an orchestral groove instrumental record. I kind of toyed with it on [Future Sons and Daughters]. There’s a track which is sort of a Brazilian groove, bass instrumental, trippy track. I’d love to do a whole record of stuff like that, but I just don’t know who would buy it.

CT: What is your songwriting style?

AM: It happens in different ways. Sometimes a lyric will pop into my head, sometimes a melody will pop into my head… I’d say more often than not, a melody just comes to mind and I start building from there — putting chords behind it, putting lyrics to it…most of the time. Every now and then, it starts with a cool line, a lyric, but mostly I’m starting with melodies and moving toward lyrics rather than the other way around.

CT: Since you start with the melodies, does the international influence come later in the songwriting process?

AM: You can color a song however you want. A melody’s a melody, no matter what culture or country of music you’re dealing with. In terms of adding depth, the flavor — say a Brazilian flavor or an African-type flavor -– it would be something that would come more on the production side of it, although there are certain cultures, especially Eastern cultures like Turkish and Indian, that have a scale system that’s different than ours. Their sense of resolve is also different. What sounds high-tension to us could sound very resolving to them, so that would affect how you write music. Unfortunately, I’m not ensconced enough in Turkish or Indian music to actually be able to melodically write from their perspective, but that would be a great thing to strive for.

CT: Your Bachelor’s degree is in philosophy, but have you taken any music courses?

AM: No, I didn’t take any music courses in college, except for one music production course, which I was terrible at, and one classical appreciation class, which I actually quite liked.

CT: How do you think the philosophy degree has affected your music?

AM: Quite a lot, actually, because it taught me to question things at a very early age. I think that’s a big part of songwriting — looking at something you may not want to look at, be it a personal thing or political thing or what have you. That’s what real philosophy is all about — it’s about questioning. It was very intense. [Laughs] I didn’t play a lot of music in college because my head was kind of wrapped up in that.

CT: What were your career plans at that time?

AM: I wanted to play music. I knew I was going to play music, but I just knew that, while I was in college, if I was going to get through it, I needed to do something that interested me, and that was the only thing I was interested in. I started out majoring in communications and I was like, “Wow, this is total bullshit. I’m not learning anything. I’m not getting turned on to anything.” I think that unless you have a specific trade that you’re training for, if you’re a creative person and you want to enter into the creative realm, liberal arts is the way to go.

CT: Are there any philosophers that particularly interested you?

AM: Nietzsche for sure, Schopenhauer for sure. I think I did read Genealogy of Morals by Nietzsche in the last year. Each year that goes by, you’re able to read it in such a different way, just like any great novel or poem. You’re going to respond to different elements of it.

CT: If your music is any indication, wouldn’t you find Nietzsche a little misanthropic?

AM: I don’t know. I saw him as kind of a realist. I mean, he definitely wasn’t a romantic. I think I am more on the side of realism, in my life and the way I go about things, because romanticism always leads to disappointment. It just doesn’t get you anywhere. I equate it with being 15. I think it was Wayne Coyne who said… I don’t want to misquote him, I like him too much. But basically, being a spiritual person in life is contrary to nature. I think that’s what he was getting at. You have to be very realistic if you want to do the right thing in life. If you get caught up in your own thing, you’re going to forget about other people, and that’s really what it’s all about. I definitely don’t agree with everything he [Nietzsche] was saying, because there were some things in his philosophy that I don’t necessarily agree with.

CT: Is there anything else you wanted to add?

AM: I’m a huge film fan.

On her tenth studio album — and the first since signing an independent distribution deal with Universal Republic Records — Tori Amos continues to prove that she is one of the most interesting and prolific artists of the past 20 years.

By now, most people already know whether or not they like Amos — whether her flair for experimentation and deep contemplation comes across as profound or bogged-down. Abnormally Attracted to Sin definitely isn’t her most artistically ambitious album; while it does have an overarching theme that weaves the songs together, it doesn’t utilize the kind of framing devices found on earlier albums, like 2001’s Strange Little Girls and her last LP, American Doll Posse.

For those who aren’t familiar with her work, Abnormally Attracted to Sin serves as a good introduction. Amos is an excellent pianist and, despite the use of drum-machines and synths, the piano remains at the forefront of every song. Her lyrics explore themes like religion, love and feminine identity in great detail, as usual. Although the album boasts 17 tracks, it’s nowhere near the longest album in her collection.

The album begins with tracks like “Give” — a sparse and haunting number about religious devotion –- the “Kashmir”-esque “Strong Black Vine” and lead single “Welcome to England.” At first, it looks like Amos has created the perfect somber soundtrack for this “June gloom” we’ve been experiencing in Los Angeles as of late (although the album was released back on May 19th).

But as soon as it seems like the album is heading in that direction, Amos pulls the rug out from under with pop-rocker “Not Dying Today.” She’s full of defiant, life-affirming spirit on this one, backed by a rousing drum beat and popping bass-line. This song is a perfect way to ease any novice into Amos.

Only “500 Miles” would serve as a better introductory song. This is the consummate “pop” track of the album. Crisp guitars, understated drums, and Amos’s soaring vocals bring this to melodic crescendos, balanced occasionally with bare bridges and distorted minor chords. Everything comes together so well on this song — a perfect example of everything pop music can and should be.

Amos also has a penchant for the bizarre, as exemplified by one of the album’s later tracks, “Mary Jane.” Even though this album doesn’t revolve around shifting narrators for each song, this one is told from the point of view of a mother speaking to her son about using “Mary Jane.” The drug is personified as a girl, and it examines adolescent use in a funny way, even name-checking the chemistry with a reference to “Dr. Tetrahydrocannabinol Pure Isomer Dronabinol.”

While it isn’t her most experimental album, fans and unfamiliars alike should find something to enjoy on Abnormally Attracted to Sin. It’s a long, heady piece of contemporary art and probably not suited for the casual listener. But, for a searcher like Amos, it offers many avenues for musical and personal exploration.


"Fire to Your Plain" - Tori Amos

Far*Out

Pomona, California – In a small brick and mortar compound in the Pomona Arts Colony, the three young members of Far*Out took the stage with all the poise of a much bigger band. The band — and the venue, for that matter — wouldn’t have looked out of place a handful of miles west in Echo Park or Hollywood…but this was to be a night of locally grown music.

Far*Out plays music that’s hard to pin down exactly; it’s melodic with some genuine mass appeal, but still musically interesting. Bass player Charles Gray left no part of the fret board untouched throughout the night, as guitarist Joe Canal hammered out catchy chord progressions. Not to be outdone, drummer Chris Canal kept things lively behind the kit as well.

This band clearly enjoys making music, the songs clearly borne of extended jam sessions. But their knack for melody is probably the reason this band is moving up in the music world. They were named the winners of the Best of Cal Poly Pomona Battle of the Bands 2008 and have appeared on Indie 103.1, a now-defunct radio station in Los Angeles that still offers web broadcasts.

They kept the house entertained well into the wee hours of the Pomona night. The patio of Characters –- roughly equal in size to the bar itself -– provided surprisingly good acoustics for the show. It was a cozy affair, nestled under a canopy on a cool May night not far from the band’s hometown of West Covina.
Good things seem to be on their way for both band and venue. Far*Out is currently recording a full-length record which, if Saturday’s performance was any indication, should be an impressive debut. Characters will play host to a night of reggae, ska and hip-hop on June 5th, with performances by local groups Dub 8 and Grand Marquis.

Los Angeles, California – Not many bands would have both guitar players ditch their strings in favor of a tambourine and maracas, but then not many bands could pull that off. Fortunately for L.A. boys Eulogies, they don’t have that problem.

Touring in support of their second album, Here Anonymous, the band opened for The Dears at the Echoplex Saturday, May 23rd. Aside from opening number “Under The Knife,” from their self-titled debut album, and Walker’s “What Do I Know,” the band stuck to material from their latest release.

The punchy “Out Of Character” picked the pace up early in the set, but the band stuck mostly to more demure fare. Incorporating additional percussion throughout the night kept this rock quartet interesting, despite the relatively commonplace nature of their setup.

Walker describes the band’s music as “simple” and the lyrics as “straightforward,” but there is definitely a creative edge to this band. This can be heard on “Stranger Calliope,” a flute- and synth-infused track off Here Anonymous that didn’t make it onto the night’s set list, probably due to the additional instrumentation.

With just the guitars, bass and drums, Eulogies creates music that maintains an even keel, for the most part, preferring to explore the subdued space around which Walker plaintively sings his heart-on-sleeve lyrics.

The sound was very solid throughout the nine-minute set, the Here Anonymous songs tighter than those on the previous record. As for Walker’s emotional words, he says it’s about letting someone know how you feel.

“Here Anonymous is basically about communication, and it’s just important to be heard and to be seen –- not for a singer on stage, but in a relationship,” he said.

Eulogies has more than one speed, however, and they seem to have the most fun on slightly more up-tempo numbers, like the unforgettable “Eyes On The Prize.” It was surprising that they decided to keep this song at the middle of their set.

“The Fight I’ve Come To Like” was the climax of the set, another catchy tune with fun rock riffs and dynamic shifts. From there, the set wound down — “How To Be Alone” and “Bad Connection.” The former grooves on a slightly syncopated beat; the latter closed the show amid a sea of shaking maracas and overdriven bass fuzz. Not many bands could hang such a catchy chorus on nothing but a bass line and some percussion, but then…

The band will play KCRW’s “Morning Becomes Eclectic” on July 1st before taking the stage at The Echo later that night.

The Motor City is probably the last place in America you’d expect to find a green avenger (outside of G.O.P. headquarters, anyways), but that’s exactly what Detroit’s Deastro appears to be after listening to Moondagger, which hits stores June 23rd. Mixing equal parts environmentalism, hallucination and fantasy, the man born Randolph Chabot is a welcome edition to the ever-growing electro-indie catalogue. Somewhere between the whimsical tones of Merriweather Post Pavilion and the psychedelic rush of Oracular Spectacular is where this self-described “space symphony” really hits the mark.

It begins, appropriately enough, with “Biophelia,” which wraps Interpol-on-mood-altering-drugs vocals in crystalline cosmic instrumentation. It’s as good a track as any to serve as a microcosm for this album; the lyrics are hopeful, the hooks catchy and the live band really bolsters the sound where so many synths can sound thin and artificial. Indeed, this album sounds oddly organic despite the heavy use of inorganic tones.

“Parallelogram” is a fun tune set at a brisk pace, the vocals bouncing and punctuated by an unforgettable lead riff. The opening percussive shots sound like they’re being played on trash can lids, implying some in-studio creativity. But the beat picks up so quickly, it’s hard to imagine a pair of human hands moving so quickly. In either case, the drums anchor the song nicely and evoke an uncontrollable urge to rock out.

In advance of the album, the single “Vermillion Plaza” was released May 12th. The lyrics of this song are decidedly darker than the album as a whole, enough to be misleading to an unfamiliar listener. There’s a lot of hope in there, to be sure, but the tone of the song overall is one of longing. The spiritual side of the lyrics tends to be ironic, although he does sound earnest when he sings that “God is on our side.” I’m sure if there is a god, she’s pro-environment, but how does that fit with Jesus drinking whiskey?

Some other standout tracks include the unfortunately-titled “Toxic Crusaders” and “Kurgan Wave Number One.” The former is an instant favorite, starting small and building upon itself until it’s an all-out declaration of brotherhood with nature. “Are we not made of the roots of the plants and the trees?” Chabot plaintively beseeches the listener. This song could easily become the new anthem for the entire green movement, or the latest hipster dance sensation.

Chabot claims that the genesis for this album sprouted from a fantastic dream involving an epic battle between light and darkness and the powerful “Moondagger” weapon. There is some evidence of this, especially on the title track and the mouthful “Daniel Johnston Was Stabbed In The Heart With The Moondagger By The King Of Darkness And His Ghost Is Writing This Song As A Warning To All Of Us.” The latter is another hopeful affair with lyrics about rebuilding civilization and the individual. But what that has to do with Chabot’s fantasy dream is nebulous at best.

Fun and rhythmic all the way, this album clocks in at just under 50 minutes. The brisk pace keeps it moving fast, barely giving the listener time to adjust between songs, and the lulls are minimal. Multiple listenings are definitely required to experience all that Moondagger has to offer. This is an album that can be enjoyed as a distracting dance party or peeled back, layer by layer, to reveal the subtleties of the instrumentation and cryptic lyrics. It’s a definite must-have for anyone interested in the direction indie music is headed, and an encouraging sign of what’s to come.

For the third act in The Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ already storied career, Karen O and co. unveiled ten new tracks — running the gamut between hot dance-floor disco and winsome balladry – with the March 31st release of It’s Blitz. Although the wild variations in style and the addition of synths might seem antithetical for a band once heralded as torchbearers of garage rock, none of it feels out of place coming from this band. This album only furthers their reputation as one of the most interesting and inimitable bands of this decade.

For fans of The YYYs’ raucous, in-your-face attitude, one look at the exploding egg on the album cover should assuage any misgivings. The first two tracks, “Zero” and “Heads Will Roll,” kick things off by combining the band’s trademark swagger with the synths that permeate almost every part of this album. The band makes good use of the unfamiliar instruments on both tracks. Karen O’s vocals are, to put it lightly, climactic on the chorus of the former; the latter finds her snarling a bit more.

The arrangement of the mid-tempo “Softshock” leaves plenty of space for the listener to get lost in, with only O’s beautiful siren song to lead the way through the musical twists and turns. Segueing into “Skeletons,” the synths continue to pulsate and loop over themselves until the rat-a-tat of drumsticks puts some meat on the bones. Everything about this song sounds anthemic and yet sparse, right down to the vocals, wherein O sounds like she’s singing only to you but from a great distance away.

“Dull Life” and “Shame and Fortune” bounce along happily enough, although neither track inspires one to dance into oblivion (like the first two) or cry from the sheer power of its fragility (see: tracks 3 and 4). If there is a lackluster point on this album –- and I’m not quite sure there is –- this would be it. The tempo shift on “Dull Life” and fuzzy guitar on “Shame” are actually pretty enjoyable; they just lose some of the punch of the first four.

The acoustic piano on “Runaway” makes Karen O sound like she’s channeling Marketa Irglova, and I mean that in the very best way. Again, this may sound odd for the YYYs, but something in O’s inflection and the pulse of the drums lets you know it’s them.

“Dragon Queen” is probably the most “New Wave”-sounding track on the album, and someone is bound to make that comparison due to all the synths in play here. But this definitely isn’t a “New Wave” album, and the band proves it with the completely true-to-form “Hysteric,” a song that would be right at home on any of the band’s previous albums. The fleet-footed drums, the subdued and buzzing guitar parts and, yes, Karen O’s unmistakable voice remind fans why they loved this band so much in the first place.

The curtains close with the stripped-down simplicity of “Little Shadow,” putting the listener gently to rest on vocals as soft and transcendent as the clouds themselves. The guitar pulses and rings out on the final note — a subtle reminder that this is not some laptop rock dance band; this is The Yeah Yeah Yeahs — a band that can elicit tears via toughness or tenderness. I can’t wait for the encore.