The noise pop duo known as Fuck Buttons have released their second full length Tarot Sport, which hit the shelves a little over a week ago. The follow up to Street Horrrsing has gotten a considerable amount of attention from music journalists and the blogosphere for being one of the better records of this year. So what exactly did Fuck Buttons do on their second release? Power and Hung have cut back a bit on their noisy barrages and screaming backdrops and exchanged them for some pulsating beats and some heavy techno inspired melodies.

For the most part, however, a lot of elements that made Street Horrrsing enjoyable exist on Tarot Sport. Street Horrrsing was vast as well as deep, and the textures and depth that governed the record are still very much apparent especially on tracks such as “Surf Solar” and “Flight of the Feathered Serpent.” Fuck Buttons definitely introduces a new level of danceability on Tarot, however it hardly seems to compromise the variety of sound. They still have a knack for getting you hooked on their poppy nuance, while maintaining a level of obscurity. That being said, Tarot is a much easier listen, and I think that has a lot to do with the evolution of their songwriting. There seems to be more thought and purpose in Tarot Sport, despite its lack of noise experimentation. A lot of their melodies are less saturated and more precise while certain rhythmic progressions remind me a lot of some of the songs off of Tortoise’s latest release Beacons of Ancestorship. Maybe these dudes are just growing up. Regardless their growth is certainly worth listening to.

Tarot Sport is available on ATP Recordings. Also for all you Bostonians, check out their upcoming show on November 25th at Great Scott in Allston!

For fans of:  Kevin Shields, Holy Fuck, Black Dice, Growing

MP3 :::
Fuck Buttons – Flight of the Feathered Serpent
Fuck Buttons – The Lisbon Maru

Portland’s Meth Teeth recently released their full length record Everything Went Wrong. Surprisingly enough, Mattey Hubele and company found time to release the record despite MTV’s Portland invasion and a handful of other musical projects. Hubele is a busy dude these days, acknowledging however that Meth Teeth has been taking up most of his time.

The band’s playfully dirty aesthetic is heard throughout the record, a sort of stylistic trademark I come to think of when listening to up and comers from the Pacific Northwest. Huebele’s folk roots can be heard from time to time, mangled beautifully by truckloads of lo-fi distortion. Honesty seems to permeate throughout; the amalgam of blues, folk, garage rock and pop melodies are all managed and intertwined cleverly. Comparisons to Eat Skull seem to be spot on, especially in tracks like “Never Been to Church” and “I Was Wrong,” both of which happen to be two of the better tracks on the album. Be sure to check out Portland’s latest gem ASAP via Woodsist (home of the beloved Fuck It Tapes).

For fans of:  Eat Skull, R Stevie Moore, Beachwood Sparks on the *brown* fuckin’ acid

MP3 :::
Meth Teeth – I Was Wrong
Meth Teeth – Never Been to Church

Iconic “post-rock” group Tortoise is set to release their first album in roughly five years this June. I hardly need to explain to our well versed readers the significance of this Chicago bred band that has become a household name in post-rock, experimental, electronic and even jazz circles. [Editor's Note: be sure to peep the sick videos from Tortoise's performance last summer at Louisville's Forecastle Festival here]

When I first read the press release for Beacons of Ancestorship, like many, I scrambled for a pen to mark up June 23rd on my calendar. Sure, press releases are used to create hype and tend to augment the weight of the record and artist, however, conceptually speaking the explanation sounded like Tortoise fans were going to be rewarded.

Like most records in the digital era, Beacons of Ancestorship leaked and the blog wars are well under way. Due to Tortoise’s lack of output and the recent commentary surrounding Beacons, fans and critics have been overwhelmed by the apparent conceptual mystique. Whether you’re a fan, critic or just a Tortoise passerby, Beacons of Ancestorship is likely to leave your brain pulsating to their infectious rhythmic creativity and compositional mastery.

It seems Tortoise tried their best to combine their more recent passion for electronics with the rhythmic variance and jazz influenced riffs most notable on Millions Now Living Will Never Die and TNT. But in case you are one of the few who are tired of the signature Tortoise sound, there is plenty of new imagination on the record: some of it genius, some of it contrived and boring.

Beacons incorporates a great deal of conceptual development; centered around their loosely jazz inspired riffs and backed by a keen rhythmic consciousness. Subtle world-inspired elements are heard throughout the record, reminding me a bit of Cul De Sac’s China Gate, which fused jazz, world music and prosthetic atonality. Beacons however, is much more approachable than China Gate and lacks the sophisticated manipulation of timbre that experimental groups like Cul De Sac were adept at.

Songs like “Gigantes” and “High Class Slim Came Floatin’ In” are lengthy masterpieces that serve as near perfect examples of Tortoise’s refined conceptual skill. The acute buildup of “Gigantes” layers a brilliantly catchy yet dissonant melody with a minimalist backdrop similar to that of Terry Riley or Steve Reich. The sonic peaks and valleys of “High Class Slim…” eventually mature into a dense, well oiled machine; sounding a lot like Michael Rother on human growth hormones.

After a few listens, reality sets in, and it’s apparent that several of Beacons‘ tracks fail to eclipse the aural magnitude and finesse of the aforementioned tracks. Songs like “Penumbra” and “Northern Something” sound like filler tracks; less layered, less developed and seemingly less thought out. Both of these happen to be short, simple synth led jams. It might just be a personal bias but I’ve always enjoyed Tortoise’s longer jams which have more time to evolve, rather than the shorter, less structurally diverse tunes.

“Yinxianghechengqi” is not only an intriguing name, but it’s also the most atypical (of Tortoise) track on the album. It’s almost like a synth-punk tune, full of Tortoise’s standard melodic mannerisms disguised by grimy synth effects. Towards the end, the edgy synths and rock ‘n roll drums abruptly meet their maker, resulting in an eerie deep space landscape that leads seamlessly into the contemplative “The Fall of Seven Diamonds Plus One.”

Beacons of Ancestorship should give every Tortoise fan a few bits and pieces of post-rocking pleasure, since the record successfully combines and elaborates on their entire discography, while still leaving room for five years of growth. A good deal of the electronic effects and synth samples prove to be a real letdown, however the essence of Tortoise is still present despite a mild surrender to popular novelty devices. Tortoise has accomplished their goals for the record; they created a multi-dimensional album full of both nostalgia and progression, while simultaneously delivering their concept in a distinct fashion. Rest assured, Beacons of Ancestorship manifests Tortoise’s vision and expertise as learned rhythmic and compositional giants.

Beacons of Ancestorship will be available June 23rd via Thrill Jockey and will be touring starting in late May at the following locations:

05.29.09 – Buffalo, NY – Tralf Music Hall
05.30.09 – Brooklyn, NY – The Bell House
05.31.09 – New York, NY – World Financial Center Winter
06.11.09 – Athens, Greece – Synch Festival
07.11.09 – Los Angeles, CA – Troubadour
07.13.09 – San Francisco, CA – Great American Music Hall
07.15.09 – Austin, TX – The Mohawk
07.17.09 – Chicago, IL – Pitchfork Music Festival w/ Jesus Lizard, Built To Spill, Yo La Tengo
07.19.09 – Washington, DC – Black Cat
07.20.09 – Philadelphia, PA – First Unitarian Church
07.24.09 – Tokyo, Japan – Fuji Rock Festival
08.14.09 – St. Malo, France – La Route Du Rock
08.22.09 – Hasselt, Belgium – Pukkelpop

MP3 :::
Tortoise – Gigantes
Tortoise – Yinxianghechengqi

The hardest records to review are the ones that really don’t leave any sort of imprint on my temporal lobe. It’s not that these said records are complete garbage, it’s more that they end up on the mundane end of the aural spectrum. Blank Dogs‘ new record Under and Under picked at my senses for a couple of hours, always seemingly on the verge of a breakthrough. The one man show Mr. Blank Dog, simply couldn’t reach that highly sought after tier of captivation. Maybe it’s time for a Q-Tip, Norwood.

Little is known about the band’s only member “Mr. Blank Dog” who has probably put out more records than Zappa in four years earning him a significant amount of attention as of late, and a cozy spot on In The Red records. But then again what Brooklyn artist isn’t getting attention these days? Blank Dogs is trying to be The Residents of the 21st century, providing virtually no information about the identities of Mr. Blank Dog and his many musical patrons. This enigmatic caricature of a dude conceals himself at shows, which after listening to his music doesn’t really surprise me given this record’s uncanny feel.

Like I said, Under and Under is frustrating. It’s like the video game they play in South Park where they try to catch the Magic Dragon by shooting heroin as fuel to keep them going. No matter how close anyone ever gets to the dragon, they never catch it. There are moments on Under and Under when I think that I’ve got the dragon cornered, ready to embrace Blank Dogs’ genius, but that climactic sense of appreciation never really shines.

You can’t expect every record that comes along to “catch the dragon,” however Under and Under comes close at times. Mr. Blank Dog seems to be well versed in the art of subtle pop hooks which sound awesome buried under a bit of dissonant, lo-fi instrumentation. There are songs like “L Machine” that convince me that Ian Curtis is still alive, well and singing on this record. To take it a step further, some of the guitar and that feeling of hauntingly unfamiliar familiarity (get it?) is strikingly similar to that of Joy Division (especially on “Open Shut”). The poppy dissonance also reminded me a bit of Pere Ubu, as well as early Fall records. Blank Dogs show off their sensitive, fragile side as well on tracks like “Tin Birds” which sounds a lot like a sped up Cure song recorded on a four track.

But then the shit hits the fan. What is up with the unnecessary keyboard/synth? It reminds me too much of those 8-bit Nintendo samples that Crystal Castles use, and I really can’t tolerate any more of that nonsense. The intro of “L Machine” begins with the most ridiculously boring three note keyboard line I’ve heard in a while. Its details like this that Mr. Blank Dog should consider paying more attention to. He’s already managed to strike an interesting conceptual chord in his music, now with a bit of refinement his next release could be something to keep in the walkman.

Fagen-Becker Quality Rating

Under and Under will be available on May 26th via In The Red records.

MP3 :::
Blank Dogs – No Compass
Blank Dogs – L Machine

Experimental cover albums generally tend to disappoint. Usually an artist’s motives for interpretation are sound, yet the final product is rarely impressive, often belittling the original work. Mark Kozelek (Red House Painters, Sun Kil Moon), known for his “interpretive covers,” has reconstructed a myriad of works ranging from Francis Scott Key’s “The Star Spangled Banner,” to various AC/DC tracks, to an entire collection of Modest Mouse songs (Sun Kil Moon – Tiny Cities). The problem with Kozelek’s covers, as with others who compose hyper-experimental covers, is that frankly, no one really cares. All he really did (and this is no knock on Kozelek’s earlier work like Down Colorful Hill, just his questionable later years) was write a completely unrelated song with his own trademark musical style. Then instead of writing lyrics that could tie a noose around any listener’s neck, he used the author’s original ones…obviously.

Unlike Kozelek’s frequent use of “poetic license,” David Pajo’s relatively unknown, vinyl only release, Scream With Me, finds a tolerable balance between interpretation and reiteration. As you’ve probably guessed, the record takes a rather sobering look at a collection of songs from the original Kings of the Underworld, The Misfits.

Pajo is probably the most important guitarist since the late 80s, and even though this record doesn’t really add to his impressive resumé (Slint – Spiderland & Tweez, Tortoise – Millions Now Living Will Never Die & TNT, Royal Trux – 3 Song EP), it does serve as an intriguing work backed by a semi-original idea. I’d like to note here that I have been acoustically covering “Hybrid Moments” for over two years now, leading me to believe that Pajo’s been using me as his own personal fountain of creativity. Hence, semi-original.

Anyways, if you the thought 3-chord punk couldn’t be simplified any further, then you’ve been misled. Pajo takes punk’s musical manifesto and turns it into very simple lo-fi acoustic jams. Pajo follows the chordal tonality of each song, then turning the power chords into natural chords more suitable for the tenderness of plucking and finger picking. Pajo’s feeble vocals could bother some, but I found them to be pleasantly human.

You’re not going to find a whole lot of progressive jazz riffs, piercing harmonics, spastic time signatures or anything else that made Pajo a Louisville legend, but there is a great way to enjoy this album: build a camp fire deep within your local wilderness destination, crack open a few cold ones and indulge in one of the most epic sing-a-longs courtesy of Pajo, and of course, Dr. Glenn Danzig.

You can purchase Scream With Me exclusively from the friendly ghouls over at Black Tent Press.

MP3 :::
Pajo – Where Eagles Dare

[Editor's Note: This is Norwood's first article for the Decibel Tolls. Welcome him, and let's avoid the normal flaming we have here on this fine music blog, nerds. Don't scare him off too soon, now.]

Last week, I was editing a chapter on garage rock for Piero Scaruffi’s revised rock catalog when I stumbled upon a band that begged me for my curiosity. One of the few reviews about this outhouse-rock group was written by Julian Cope (for one of his album of the month pieces). I skimmed through his review, finding the nihilistic mumbo-jumbo of rock gold more and more appetizing. The more I researched, the quicker I found out that my dear uncle Scott Derr was one of the contributing madmen. It’s a small world after all! Cope surely did a good job selling the band on paper, and now I had a blood connection. I thoroughly scanned the world wide web before finally unveiling the 24-karat cacophony that is Monoshock’s first, last and only LP, “Walk to the Fire.”

“Walk to the Fire” shows off the raw power of the Stooges, the improvisational debauchery of the Velvet Underground, and the schizophrenic swagger of Pere Ubu; all finely minced, thrown into a blender, and garnished with a bit of apocalyptic satisfaction. There’s just something about the amateurish indecency of “Walk to the Fire” that sounds strikingly original. This feeling of sordid wonder juxtaposed with frontman Grady Runyan’s aesthetic framework makes “Walk to the Fire” one of rock music’s most fascinating “Jekyll and Hyde” records. You could enjoy it because of its “no-fi” garage-punk sound, or because of its potent expeditions into the psychedelic avant-garde.

The record as a whole will blow your sails due south; whether your heading there or not. Made up of college buddies Grady Runyan (vocals, guitar, e-bow, violin), Scott Derr (vocals, bass, guitar, brass, blender), Rubin Fiberglass (drums, percussion, vocals) and Aluminum Queen (saxophone), Monoshock mixes sloppy proto-punk with sophisticated free-form experimentation. “Walk to the Fire” is simply another example of punk rock’s “Fuck it,  I’m a teenager” ethos gone horribly right.  Everything seems to go wrong on this record, and that’s the provocative beauty of Monoshock’s design. The chaotic mess of guitars, drums and orchestral instruments proves to be much more prophetic than ignorant. More singular than homogenous. And more honest than fraudulent. When listening, I often forget that running saxophones through oscillators, and aimlessly howlin’ away on brass isn’t the norm in rock music, but Monoshock does it with an unwavering conviction.

The opening track “Crypto-Zoological Disaster,” begins with a head bobbin’ Pere Ubu riff that steadily marches until it abruptly decomposes into a degenerative, DNA-like, orgy of half-conscious noise. After getting lost in the masochistic crescendo, Runyan and company come full-circle, bringing back the riff in a final tour de force.

“I Took You to it Baby,” Monoshock’s destructive ballad, features the group’s most conventionally catchy instrumentation. Fortunately for us, Runyan’s apathetic wailing combined with a belligerent, yet hummable, guitar melody makes you want to turn up the volume, pound the gas with your lead foot and flip the bird to the next copper you see on the open highway.

The almost primitivist “Astral Plane” sways back and forth like a drunk seaman, soon to be hanging over the  ship’s railing in a sickening stupor. This uncanny, vaguely psychedelic sound appears all over “Walk to the Fire,”  contributing to the record’s subtle hallucinogenic mystique. The track’s climax is marked by Derr’s disastrously fulfilling brass solo.

Monoshock’s “Walk to the Fire” will likely grab you by the neck, and wring you for every last penny. Sometimes being wrong feels oh so right.

MP3 :::
Monoshock – Astral Plane (Take Me)
Monoshock – I Took You To It, Baby
Monoshock – Leesa