The Vacation

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This is a demo column, albeit in the loosest sense of the term. Demos from unsigned acts will be reviewed here (hence the "demo" in the column's title), but it will also feature independently released singles and EPs from up and coming artists across the globe. Some will have secured management already, others will be free agents. Some will even be signed to record labels. The only thing all acts appearing in this space have in common is that none have yet released a debut album.

Why do we need this column? Aside from giving our readers information about talented artists that may never emerge from obscurity, PopMatters created Demogogue to fill a void in music reporting. To the extent that there is any A&R work performed by the press in the country, it is done on a local level by entertainment weeklies and zines with minor circulation. Consequently, it's almost impossible for a music fan living in Boston to hear about a great young group making waves in Seattle, unless they have a major record deal and the accompanying press support. The situation is so ridiculous that unsigned acts go to England and court the press there in the hopes of igniting interest back in the States. Frankly, the national-level U.S. publications should be embarrassed, but they see themselves as being practical and earning advertising revenue from the labels whose products they review and promote.

Fortunately, practicality is not the domain of web-based publications. Why shouldn't PopMatters take up the cause of unheard, new musicians? The greatest fear is that there won't be enough quality music for this sort of regular coverage. That's where you come in. Think your group is on the verge of something big? Maybe the weird kid across the street who's always recording in his room is finally ready for the world to hear his work? PopMatters is welcoming demos, singles, and EPs from far and wide. Although PopMatters is based in the United States, I do not oppose international submissions (as this installment's list will attest). There is no guarantee that you will be reviewed if you send your demo along, but I promise that if it is good, it will appear.

September's Demos

The Vacation: Demo. There's something undeniably dirty about this Los Angeles band. It's a testament to their resolve that even with Tony Hoffer, the architect of lush pop suites for Air and The Thrills, manning the boards, these songs still pulse with genuine grit and grime. The singer sounds like he is channeling Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop, which is never a bad thing. The music itself will presumably get tagged as "garage", and some of that disheveled clamor is evident to be sure, but there's a more overtly melodic penchant as well, thankfully setting this band apart from the legions of tuneless pretenders. "Make Up Your Mind" sounds like Supergrass if the high school principal confiscated their cocaine stash while "Liquid Lunch" chews up and spits out semi-digested chunks of Kinks and Buzzcocks. It manages to tread the fine line of brilliant and reckless for nine minutes and yet somehow winds up making perfect sense.

The Changes: Demo. There's a pleasant buzz here. It swishes and sways in the right places, speeds and slows at appropriate junctures. The Changes have clearly studied their record collections carefully, combing through for useful progressions and digressions. Unfortunately, it sounds a little too well-researched, as if they were petrified of accidentally striking something original or exciting. It's frustrating because The Changes excel when they allow their artier, jazzy inclinations to shine through. Too bad they're mostly slumming in the garage with this demo.

September's Independent Singles & EPs

Le Neon, Luss (Fierce Panda): This is a fantastically discordant mess, rendered by a young British band that apparently could give a shit about minor details like production values and discernable choruses. Amazingly, Luss works almost entirely because of the band's maniacal, relentless din-not despite it. The comparisons have already been made to the early work of Idlewild and even a primordial Blur, but this swift LP does a much better job of hiding its pop inclinations than either of those two parallels would suggest. I have no doubt they'll be pressed to smooth out the rough edges on their next outing, but I hope they resist the temptation. Here's a rare band that excels at sculpting an unwieldy racket.

Winnebago Deal: Plata O Plomo (Fierce Panda). Their press kit says something about a stoner-rock version of the White Stripes. But really, what group isn't these days? Sadly, all of these guitar-drums duos miss the point. They think that if they mimic the fuzzed-out guitar tones, they're in the sweepstakes. Like the others who have come and gone before them, Winnebago Deal are missing White's empathic earnestness, the vulnerability that makes even the most monstrous Zeppelin riff sound strangely comforting. This is all crunch, no feeling.

Agent Blue: Snowhill (Fierce Panda). Like Terris before them, this is a British band that, on the surface, seems to have all the right moves. However, like that forgotten footnote of a band and countless other b-listers, repeated listens reveal a calculated design that is fundamentally at odds with the essence of quality rock n' roll. When vocalist Nic Andrews flies off the rails on the first track and the guitars seem to tick toward inevitable self-destruction, you may admire their intent, but their conviction remains a question mark at best, especially since the subsequent two tracks reveal a band that is just as likely to dabble in hippie shenanigans as DC barnstormers. In casting such a wide net, Agent Blue stumble onto some compelling combinations, but they also too readily sacrifice a distinct identity.

The Stills: Rememberese (Vice). Must every band have some connection to New York these days? The Stills are from Canada, but apparently the hype their fellow compatriots like Broken Social Scene, Hot Hot Heat, The Constantines, and The New Pornographers received wasn't good enough for them. So the duo picked up and moved to the hype capital of the music world. The gamble appears to have paid off, as The Stills returned to Canada with a prestigious Vice Records contract in hand. (Vice, if you recall, put out last year's much-lauded debut by The Streets.) Although the album proper won't be released for another month or so, this EP provides a nice assessment of their sound: a swirling hybrid of '80s post-punk and blurry yet mannered guitars. Their sonic aesthetic is, truth be told, a bit too similar to Interpol's, and indeed The Stills have opened for them on several occasions. Yet it's tough to argue with a band that pulls off a layered sound in such a liberating, uncomplicated style.

Ima Robot: Public Access (Virgin). I'm immediately suspicious of any indie-type band that walks off with a major label contract with nary a peep from local outlets. Yet that is precisely what this Los Angeles collective of studio junkies has done-and, surprise, it's way better than I would have guessed. "12 = 3 (Here Come the Doctors)" is essentially a shotgun marriage of The Faint's goth dance and Blur's sputtering Brit-pop with a Stephen Bays (Hot Hot Heat) sound-alike on the vocals. The rest of the songs lean more heavily on Blur's pop template, sans the caffeine high. Enon is another useful point of comparison. "The Beat Goes On" is almost pretty; at least as much as a knowing spoof can be. And it's hard not to smile when a band compares ex-girlfriends to black Jettas as they do on the appropriately titled "Black Jettas". Sure, Ima Robot have their tongue firmly planted in cheek, but at least they remembered a joke can only carry so far without solid hooks.

The Hong Kong: Rock the Faces (Etherdrag). They're from Brooklyn, but you can keep the no-wave and white funk labels. The Hong Kong try something far trickier with this debut release: to pull off immaculate pop within the admittedly rigid confines of indie. This has been done before and to better effect, but Catherine Culpepper's sultry, sleek vocals at least keep The Hong Kong from descending into a quagmire of clichés. First track, "Mazerati", stands out as the obvious highlight, perhaps setting the bar a bit high for the rest of the 7 tracks that follow. Still, it's a worthy indie pop derivation, despite a dearth of dazzling moments.

Franz Ferdinand: Darts of Pleasure (Domino). The Coral should be shot. Easily the worst movement birthed by England in the past quarter century, acid-fried, nautically-themed hippie rock has claimed untold numbers of technically-gifted bands. Although the venerable Domino label's latest signing, Franz Ferdinand, cuts the pirate crap, there's still an unmistakable acidic aftertaste to their Brit-indie brew. Genuine talent abounds, but someone needs to pull them aside and explain that the Animals are to be admired, not emulated.

The Savages: Long Live You (Half a Cow). With song titles like "Detroit," "Heartache," and "Let's Run," it takes all of about two seconds to imagine what The Savages sound like, and chances are your guess isn't too far off from the rambunctious, beer-drowned rock n' roll that actually spills forth from the speakers. Long Live You is hardly original, but it does get the job done, albeit in the most rudimentary fashion possible. The Hives these Swedes are not, but neither are they as atrocious as Gluecifer. And thank god for that.

Vermishus: Suburban Parallax (Half a Cow). The other latest offering from the Australian-based Half a Cow label is a more ambitious if slightly sloppier proposition. Suburban Parallax has an appealing, amateur quality to it, which is also arguably its biggest drawback. It's hard to tell sometimes whether the band can't play their instruments or whether they're just too wasted to bother with precision. Vermishus' fractured Fall-isms and Pixies-esque squalls bode well, but at this stage, they're fascinating in a 10-car pile-up sort of way, and I'm fairly certain that's not what the band had intended.

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