Despite being active for a few years, Solid Gold remains one of the best-kept secrets of the Minneapolis music scene. That may change with the coming of their first LP Bodies of Water, which kicked off in style with a well-attended CD release party at Varsity Theater, drawing over three hundred people.

The album contains eleven tracks, two of which were released on their previous EP “Who You Gonna Run To?” Though mainly electronic, it doesn’t give due justice to dismiss Solid Gold’s music as simply that. Psychedelic, rock, pop, and even some club flavors permeate the mix, creating a lush and distinctly recognizable sound.

Though released in the winter, Bodies of Water is undoubtedly best suited for a summer night out on the town. Straddling the divide between dark and dance-worthy, the album definitely has the mark of its producer Ryan Olcott. Olcott, who is known around Minneapolis for his band Mystery Palace, is an electronic music veteran who likely was a defining factor in helping this record sound familiar without being generic.

Production wise, Bodies of Water was artfully executed. The synthesizers are thick, the percussion punchy and aggressive, and the vocals distant and eerie. The composition and arrangement of the songs feels very mature for a band’s first record. Somewhere and somehow, there’s an inkling of instant classicality.

Though there are many great tracks on the record, none of them stand out nearly as much as “Neon Rose”. A furious song with an infectious beat, it contrasts highly with a lot of the more straightforward material on the album. Other notable tracks include “Get Over It”, “Who You Gonna Run To?” and “Calm Down”, which all collaboratively showcase the diversity of the band’s material.

The only major issue worth mention sonically is the record’s over-compression. For the uninitiated, compression works by setting a limit for how loud sound can get while raising quiet parts of a song. Basically, the lowest and highest volume levels of a song are on average closer together. Compression is standard practice and can do a lot of good when used properly, but it is clear that the quality of the record has unfortunately suffered from an avoidable mistake. That being said, it doesn’t stop Bodies of Water from ultimately being a very successful project.

Solid Gold is a definite contender for the next big thing to come out of Minnesota. Already featured on prominent blog sites and handpicked by the Ting Tings to support them for their show in Minneapolis a few months prior, the strength of their new album is likely to carry the band far. For fans of New Order, VHS or Beta, or The Cure, you’ll likely find Solid Gold an absolute treasure.

Final verdict: B+

For all practical and fundamental purposes, punk rock is lifeless. Seriously. Joe Strummer’s optimism and socialistic glorifications have been stripped from all mediums. The misrepresented anarchy seen on Never Mind the Bullocks has been stomped to the ground by both militarized police (anybody else at the RNC?) and the docility following the promises made by our political leaders. Save the Buzzcocks’ DIY politics and the Ramones’ blissful naivety, it appears that punk’s remains are now artifacts cellophane wrapped in jewel cases and translated into a slew of zeros and ones.

On a pragmatic level it is quite easy to see truth in the above argument. There is however, an incalculable spectrum of music, life, politics, etc. that makes this argument completely self-combust. Horizontal stripe sweater-wearing music critics such as myself continue, for now three decades, to overanalyze the life out of punk. How calculated is their musicianship? What the hell is a Fun House? But somewhere behind the missed notes and the record label sellouts, punk has the last laugh. John Lydon is a genius, Gang of Four taught me how to dance, and who remains more relevant today than Johnny Thunders? How silly it is to not see that punk is everywhere.

Theoretical babble aside, no album from the punk movement maintains its relevance more than The Slits slapdash debut Cut. For all of the social barriers and sexual standards that the likes of Joe Strummer and Richard Hell broke down, they were some sexist assholes. In fact punk, like the societies that created the genre, is filled with sexist assholes. Until The Slits formed in 1976, Patti Smith was nearly the sole non-dude face within the punk movement. What refreshing faces they must have been: a handful of underage Londonettes borrow instruments, learn chords and proclaim to the world that girls rule and boys sometimes drool.

The Slits were not the only female punk band to surface in Europe in the 70’s. They were however, the most beautifully brash and charming of all of their contemporaries and followers. Both stylistically and sexually, The Slits changed the music that has come since their humble beginning. There would be no Kim Gordon, no Sleater Kinney and no Yeah Yeah Yeahs without this album.

With all of the social and sexual implications seen on the Slits’ debut, it is hard to believe how fun the record is. Reggae bass drones, cacophonous misplayed guitars and proto-Bjork shrieks combine in an irregularly impressive fashion. Cut is an album that will change the way that you listen to music. It will show you how stale everything else in the world can be. It will make you both dance and never fully understand the bunk argument that punk is no longer relevant.

Listen if you like: The Clash, M.I.A and/or Sonic Youth

Tune into Radio K’s Last Year’s Model on Monday November 17th and 24th at 8pm to hear the consistent babble of hosts Phil and Jordan and listen spastic fun of Cut

“My powers of expression, thoughts so sublime, that never do you justice with reason or rhyme,” smoothly rasps Bob Dylan in the song “Mississippi” from his latest album of unreleased and alternate tracks. Tell Tale Signs is a collection that encompasses Dylan’s music from 1989-2006. This album is very bluesy and very soulful and is full of his expression and thoughts that leave faithful listeners pleading for more.

The two-disc set offers plenty of gems. It starts off with “Mississippi, Version One.” It has a very bluesy vibe combined with a heartfelt and loving tone that intertwine together with American loss. Disc One features “Red River Shore,” which is a country-blues tune enthralled with elusive love and mortality. The instrumentation behind Dylan pushes him further and further as the song moves on while more instruments come out of the woodwork as the harmonica closes. Disc One ends with “High Water,” featuring a darker, deeper voiced Dylan throwing out hot guitar riffs that leave the skin trembling. Also of note on Disc One is the jazzy North Country song “Tell Ol’ Bill” because of the superb music.

Disc Two features some of the strongest and best melodies of the collection. “32-20 Blues” contains good classic blues sounds. “The Girl on the Greenbriar Shore” is live and is Dylan folk as it could be. “Cocaine Blues” has a slide guitar rift that just floats away. It can be taken as a heartbreaker, but the way Dylan delivers this song can definitely be taken as subtle humor. The lyrics here are great because of their multidimensions composed in between a “wow factor” mid section. “Ain’t Talkin” has Dylan giving an honest opinion of how he sees people in this life, as shown by his words “In a human heart an evil spirit can dwell.” Disc Two closes with “Cross the Green Mountain” from Gods and Generals. This piece is a spectacular marathon (over eight minutes long) and possibly has the best message. It is a heart wrenching Civil War song about the world, humanity, and the death of a soldier,
accompanied by plenty of bass.

Tell Tale Signs isn’t perfect. The second version of “Mississippi” is really missing something – with a very uninterested sounding Dylan. “Ring them Bells” and “Can’t Wait” are extremely slow tracks. Aside from these malign minor details, Signs is an engaging epic from one of the greatest rock artists ever. Truth and love emulate from this album as it is less about politics than about focusing on mortality, harsh reality, and missed love. There is plenty for all with country, folk,
rock, and blues mixed in. Yet another Dylan masterpiece, as sung in “Tell Ol’ Bill”: “How could it be any other way?”

If possible check out Bob Dylan playing at Northrop on November 4. It will be his first time playing at the campus in close to 50 years. Be there as his home state gives the legend some love in this historic event.

Background Information:
Young Widows is a Louisville, Kentucky, three-piece consisting of every member of hardcore band Breather Resist, save the vocalist. They formed in 2005 and put out their first release, the solid but not particularly exciting Settle Down City, in 2006. Said record was primarily noise rock a little bit too
heavily influenced by the Jesus Lizard.

How was this album recorded?
Old Wounds is put together from over 12 hours of tape: producer and Converge guitarist Kurt Ballou recorded their live shows for an entire tour, they recorded several sets in their practice space, and they recorded a set at Ballou’s recording studio. The resulting 32.5 minute album is constructed of only the strongest cuts of only the best songs, and some songs are assembled from both live and studio recordings.

What does the album sound like?
Fucking awesome. The combination of live and studio recordings creates a sound that has the energy of a live show but the production quality and precision of a studio album.

No I mean, what are the songs like? What kind of music is it… etc…?
Oh. Okay.

This is a huge step forward for the band. Their influences are clear but they don’t feel tied to them as before. You can hear Fugazi, the Melvins, the Jesus Lizard, and the Kentucky hardcore scene the band comes from, but all assembled in a unique way that doesn’t feel derivative.
The bass is thick, the guitar is spacey and weird and awesome, and the vocals have the genuine Kentucky swagger that people playing this style of music tend to imitate badly. The lyrics are awesome to shout along with, and the songs are both tightly constructed no-bullshit rockers and genre-defying experimenters.

So, what are some standout tracks?
“Old Skin” starts as a simple stoner groove then adds in a cascading shear of guitar. “The Guitar” is just an odd little tuneless song whose minimalist instrumentation builds to create something better than it should reasonably be. “Lucky and Hardheaded” starts as a fairly straightforward hardcore song
then turns into something altogether stranger. “21st Century Invention” showcases a healthy Fugazi influence and catchiness. “Swamped and Agitated” starts dirty and turns into glaciers falling into the ocean.

Let’s hear your Final Verdict, then…
This is a very rare sort of album: an album that is always willing to experiment but never stops rocking. The effect of the process of recording a ton of material and then using only the best stuff is clear: the songs here are refined to a point and every song feels like it belongs. A compelling argument against what bands tend to do: release everything they write as soon as they’ve written it.

This is the rock/hardcore/posthardcore/stoner rock/noise rock album of the year, and the best album of the year to turn up loud. Take notice.
I can’t read. Could you please assign it a numerical ranking?
Sure. On a scale from Rock to Sexy this album is a 17.5

The Pogues’ album Rum Sodomy and the Lash perfectly embodies music’s ability to bring us into a different world. Although conceived within London’s booming punk movement, in no way do The Pogues fit into the simplistic energy that defined early U.K. punk rock. One listen to any track on Rum and you will quickly heed what separates this band from all of their contemporaries: Ireland. Hearing the atypical beauty of frontman Shane MacGowan’s growl in “A Pair of Brown Eyes” brings you to the mystic past of the tiny island of his ancestors. Even on an initial listen, Rum’s romantic depiction of Ireland makes this Irish life immediately enviable. Hearing the poetic narratives of drunken pub life and the Irish revolution totally erases any abhorrent aspects of both scenarios. Instead you are left feeling that the one thing truly wanting in your life is to become an Irish rover.

The Pogues’ ability to paint such passionate romanticism is largely enabled by the paradox that the band wears on its sleeve. MacGowan’s music dramatically fuses the romantic world of W.B. Yeats with the completely disparate drunken sputtering of genius playwright Brendan Behan. MacGowan is a punk with an Irish banjo. He is a poet that has been told that poetry is unsightly so he cloaks his beauty behind his sputtering accent. MacGowan thus fits both polls of our social spectrum. He is simultaneously the confrontational drunk and the garage poet. His stories of history tear apart your own and his songs will change who you want to be…at least they did for me.

Paradox is thrust down your throat on The Pogues’ 1985, Elvis Costello produced, wreck of a second album. Within Rum Sodomy and the Lash‘s brief 45 minutes, it is hard not to dance, laugh and become nostalgic for the Irish dwelling that you never had. It is a work of truly novel genius.

Listen if you like: The Clash, The Decemberists, and/or Flogging Molly.

Tune into Radio K’s Last Year’s Model on Monday November 3 and 10 at 8 p.m. to hear the consistent babble of hosts Phil and Jordan and listen to all the wonders of Rum Sodomy and the Lash.

Who is Human Sexual Response you ask? Very good question my friends. For although they were once hailed as the saviors of the post punk pack of the late 70s and early 80s, Human Sexual Respons (HSR) quickly faded into obscurity after only two albums. Before their demise HSR created a pair of quirky masterpieces. On their second album, “In A Roman Mood” (1981), HSR’s sporadic post-punk shines with their combination of pseudodancy drum beats and an all-inclusive vocal section. Does this sound like a shtick that you have heard before? If so then I object my friends. For “In a Roman Mood”
may seem like formulaic early 80s post-punk on paper, the delivery of these Bostonites is, to be both blunt and appropriate, refreshing as hell.

“In A Roman Mood” is both bubbling with dark imagery and laced with quirky delight. Front man Larry Bangor’s warbled voice carries the album. Through its 11 tracks, not only does Bangor playfully describe suicide in “Andy Fell,” but he also clamors on about violence and destruction “Blow Up” in an abnormally charming fashion. Starting off side two is a psychotic cover of The Balloon Farm’s 1967 hit “A Question of Temperature.” HSR tones down the guitar fuzz but adds a panicked vibe to an already
manic top 40 hit. The result is a delightfully cryptic gem of dance-worthy pop.

Panned and ignored at the time by critics and fans for its darker and edgier feel than their debut, Human Sexual Response’s “In A Roman Mood” has stood the test of time to become a classic and important album from the post punk era. Since its release over 25 years ago, the style found on “In a Roman Mood” can be seen throughout the bulk of rock and roll since. Whether in the guitar tone or chord progression seen in “Keep a Southern Exposure,” which is cited as a major influence for Tom Morello, or any other track from the band’s small repertoire, rock and roll has sucked Human Sexual Response into its very being. This metamorphosis cannot be a bad move. For if there is one thing that rock music is best at, something that is inescapable from its essence, it is in kindling some sort of human response.

Check this out if you like: Blondie, Talking Heads, B-52’s.

To hear tracks from this album, listen to Radio K’s Last Year’s Model on Monday October 20th and 27h
at 8pm.

www.radiok.org

Originating in Fullerton, Calif., Cold War Kids is made up of Matt Aveiro, Matt Maust, Jonnie Bo Russell and Nathan Willett: According to Wikipedia, the four men who relocated to Los Angeles to record through Monarchy Music, and have toured in support of artists such as Tapes ‘n’ Tapes, The White Stripes, and Muse. From this label, Cold War Kids released three EPs before switching to Downtown Records in 2006 and debuting their first LP “Robbers & Cowards” that fall.

Cold War Kids have a sound influenced by Jeff Buckley and Velvet Underground. Basically, they are an indie rock band with badass lyrics and no limitations in creativity. Their second LP, “Loyalty to Loyalty,” has a very free spirited and anti-bureaucratic feel, which is only to be expected with such a historically important election just around the corner, and so the Cold War Kids use their lyrics to speak for the common people. They use, and pull off, the royal “we” when opposing the controlling
order set upon us by routine consumerism.

The very first song on the disc, titled “Against Privacy,” slights the intrusion upon our everyday lives and, like most of this CD, the grasp society has on the definition of individuality. “Something Is Not Right With Me” screams, quite literally, of society’s compulsions to blend in with what is “trendy” and the inhibitions that stem from this pressure to “fit in.” The lyrics of the song “Golden Gate Jumpers,” as well as the use of a harpsichord piano, combine to create a somewhat haunting old westernesque harmony in which Willett tries to prevent the “black skirt on the rail” from jumping.

The mix of sporadic drum beats and overwhelmingly loud vocals blend remarkably well to form a coherent and thought provoking album, fitting flawlessly into your music library. Right between Beck and Cloud Cult. And maybe The Cranberries.

In a town with an overwhelming population of singer/songwriters, it’s not easy to stand out from the crowd. Luckily, Jeremy Messersmith clenches a trump card firmly in hand: he’s actually talented. With the release of his second album “The Silver City” on September 9th, Messersmith shines as a purveyor of genuine pop artistry.

Utilizing the aid of producer Dan Wilson, the game has been stepped up considerably since Messersmith’s previous effort, “The Alcatraz Kid.” Though most songs are relatively simple in composition, the space is filled intricately with lush harmonies and heaps of instrumental variation.

Many comparisons have been made of him to other musicians past and present, but to denigrate Messersmith as a mere copycat would be unfitting. The truth is that he has carved an identity that resonates on its own: sincere, it is lighthearted, and highly melodic.

“The Silver City” is meant to be a concept album about Minneapolis and St. Paul, with obvious nods to the region including track titles such as “Franklin Avenue” and “Light Rail,” as well as a straightforward but respectable cover of The Replacements’ “Skyway.”

Aside from a few moments of poppy playfulness, most of the songs are highly introspective. At several points throughout the album it seems Messersmith has been heavily pondering the direction of his life, particularly the places and people in it.

The opening track, “Welcome To Suburbia,” is a quaint yet poignant statement about the ironies of suburban living and how its suburbanites are isolated from reality. Another tune worthy of mention is “Dead End Job.” By far the Album’s most sullen, it loosely narrates the life of a romantic who unselfishly gives all of him or herself to be with their cheating significant other.

Though honest and insightful, the lyrical content is where this album occasionally falters. Several subjects seem to arise in overkill, making what is supposed to be deep and reflective feel a somewhat one-dimensional at times. Upon counting, I found that the word “car” was uttered at least once on half
the songs on the album.

After a well-attended release party on September 25th at the Varsity Theater, and numerous appearances on local radio and television, it seems clear that Messersmith has gained a strong foothold
in Minneapolis as one of the area’s premier songwriters.

Look for another release from Jeremy soon. Word has it he has already started work on his next album. In the mean time, pick up a copy of The Silver City at your local record store.

After careful analysis using The Wake’s patented “CD Review-O’-Whirl” derived from early prototypes of Nikola Tesla, this record earns ?[0,x] e^(-t²)dt = x – x^3 / 3 + x^5 / 10 – x^7 /42 + x^9 / 216 out of 10.

Pop music is shamelessly obsessed with love. From the “my baby left me” blues of the early 20th century to the “He’s the kind of boy you can’t forget” language of girl group invasion, love has been on the mind of many a musician. The Kerchief wearing heartthrob of a frontman Arthur Lee is no exception to this fondness of infatuation. Lee and his rock and roll outfit Love were manifestly
conceived within the boundaries of the themes listed above. On the bands 1966 self-titled debut, Arthur Lee and Co. bash through fourteen disparate tracks that are coherently fused as a whole by love itself.

“Love” leads off sprinting. The album opening reinterpretation of the Bacharach penned “My little Red Book,” is so lovable that your body inevitably begins to jiggle. Once you start tapping your toes to the track’s tambourine driven beat, the bass line grabs you by the waist and refuses to let go without a fight. “Love” continues to tremor uncompromisingly throughout a bulk of its other thirteen tracks. Nowhere on the album however, is the music cloaked in such beautiful disregard as in this fantastic
opener.

Although Love’s debut is one gritty and intense rock and roll album, its finer moments may be its histrionic downers. The highly metaphorical “Mushroom Cloud” drips with the “Peace and Love” goodness of all of the best West Coast psych-rock. Similarly, the bleak “Signed D.C.”, although being preceded by the group’s stuttering throwaway interpretation of “Hey Joe,” could showcase Lee’s
strongest songwriting of the album. Harmonized with only a single folky guitar and a spooky pre-war blues harp, on “Signed D.C.” Lee’s melancholy shifts freely between thoughts of loneliness and contemplation of death.

With its fair share of flat vocals, missed beats and questionable song pairings, “Love” contains the spotty craftsmanship seen on many groups’ debut records. But to keep a silly metaphor alive, the band’s debut is in fact like the emotion love itself. The album’s weaknesses are what later become its strengths. The moments that initially appear as Lee’s misses are later revealed to be his finer and gutsier deliveries. Thus, after a few listens it becomes easy to love “Love” as such a sporadic and anxious whole.

Listen if you like: Jimi Hendrix, The Byrds, The Doors and CSNY

Tune into Radio K’s Last Year’s Model on Monday
May 5th and 12th at 8pm to hear the consistent
babble of hosts Phil and Jordan and listen to all the
spasms presented by Love.

The debut Doomtree album has been a culmination of many years of building, growing, burning bridges and grinding teeth, symbolized in the piles of black books, show flyers, scribbled notes and candid pictures adorning the album’s liner notes. You can hear the work in the songs: It’s clear that each song on the CD traveled a tough road to be deemed worthy.

If you’ve been following the group at all, you’ve probably heard a good amount of these songs in concert, and you may well have bought their False Hopes effort; if you want to get technical, this debut album is not the first album they’ve released as a crew. But let’s not get technical. The Doomtree crew has been pressing on for some time, and have put out quality material since day one, but in many ways, this is Day One. For those who’ve been waiting with baited breath for this album, know that it’s worth the wait, and know that it has taken this long for a reason. The album is a force to reckon with, one that perfectly represents the group and what they stand for. The description of the album on the Doomtree website sites this as “pretty much exactly what [they’re] trying to do. This is what [they] mean – and have meant all along,” the group states, and you can tell in listening to the album – and especially in seeing them perform it live – that Doomtree is immensely proud of this album.

Blood, sweat and tears drip off each song, and the album as a whole has no weak points. Each member gets a voice, owning certain songs (Dessa steals the beat on “Dots and Dashes”, while Mictlan’s “Game Over” is his practiced and pointed one-inch punch), and collaborating with one another in a variety of different ways, each expressing the MCs’ collective mentality, one where the pieces stand as much more than the sum of it’s parts. The album features guest appearances from Crescent Moon of Kill the Vultures (on “I’m Talking”) to I Self Devine (on “Twenty Four Seven”), who integrate into the crew’s signature sound impeccably.

Despite the multiple minds that came together to put together this product (Doomtree consists of MCs Cecil Otter, Sims, Mike Mictlan, P.O.S., Dessa, and DJs/producers Lazerbeak, MK Larada, Turbo Nemesis and Paper Tiger), the result comes off as an individual effort. Not quite the formlike-Voltron style of the Wu-Tang Clan, more like a collective of rap radicals linked arm in arm, poised to tear down all in their path. Any notion one might have had that P.O.S., the breakout MC who put the crew on the map with his pair of solo releases for Rhymesayers, is the talent should be completely erased upon hearing this album. Each member is totally on point, holds their own, and proves their individual power as well as their role within the group. Doomtree is one of the most exciting things to happen to local hip-hop, and local music in general, and this long-awaited debut album is a must-have that will stand as a rap classic for years down the line.