Monkey Business

Some March music reviews that fell between the cracks.



Grinderman, Grinderman, Mute/Anti-

Not to be confused with the Bad Seeds, Nick Cave's new combo may not be necessary, but it sure is fun. Grinderman make
their entrance by echoing Melbourne’s notorious Birthday
Party, but without that death-obsessed junkie pallor.

On the ravers, such as "No Pussy Blues" (yes, the lyrics are self-explanatory), Cave and Seed mates Martyn Casey, Jim Sclavunos, and Warren Ellis (the Dirty Three) buzz, howl, and moan with the best of the garage-oriented no wavers. Mix the Doors with the Velvet Underground and the Stooges—all the American stuff Aussies were grooving to in the 1970s—and shake well.

That said, the mask starts to slip as the party winds down.
On the quieter numbers, like "Man in the Moon," Grinderman
enter Bad Seeds territory, which seems rather redundant—since
they're still active—although it certainly isn't a bad place to be.



Arctic Monkeys, Favourite Worst Nightmare, Domino

How to follow up the fastest-selling debut in British history?
Why, look to Spinal Tap, of course, and crank everything up
to 11. The second blast of literate punk from Sheffield's finest comes on louder and faster than Everything People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, but something got lost in the transition
from internet sensations to international superstars.

The first Monkeys set didn’t ignite the UK charts simply because
it rocks, but because Alex Turner pens such witty words. Plenty
of musicians can shred. Like prime Ray Davies, however, only so many can write, and Turner’s tales fight a losing battle with the music this time around. Neither a grave disappointment nor a bold step forward, Favourite Worst Nightmare is the sound
of a band that’s chosen brawn—and cowbell—over brain.



Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Some Loud
Thunder, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

It’s the oldest trick in the musical book: record a second album that's just a slicker version of the first. With assistance from producer Dave Fridmann (Mercury Rev, the Flaming Lips), Clap Your Hands Say Yeah bunk the trend by impersonating an old transistor radio (hey, it worked for Perfect Sound Forever-era Pavement). Hardly experimental or "difficult," Some Loud Thunder is simply darker and less direct, and that's bummed out a few fans, but the Brooklyn band deserves props for their moxie.

Except for the Brian Eno-meets-Television "Underwater (You and Me)" and the death disco strains of "Satan Said Dance" with its Children of the Damned chorus—both as beguiling as anything on their debut—Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's sophomore outing doesn't just dodge a slump, it sidesteps the very notion, neatly separating the men (and women) from the fly-by-night fan boys.



Noisettes, What's the Time Mr. Wolf, Universal Motown

This multiracial threesome has toured with Bloc Party and TV on the Radio, but looks can be deceiving. French for hazelnuts, Britain's Noisettes sound nothing like either (and let's face it, noisettes easily trumps filberts). The flamboyant trio does share stylistic similarities with New York's retro-rocking Earl Greyhound, however. Singer/bassist Shingai Shoniwa belts it out rather than mumbles or moans, but can torch it up as needed. She’s Ella Fitzgerald fronting the Experience, and Dan Smith and Jamie Morrison are just as pale and hirsute as Hendrix’s cohorts.

Together, Noisettes generate a combustible energy, but their first effort is too stuffed with, well, stuff—jazz tempos, metal solos, etc. What's the Time Mr. Wolf never succumbs to tedium, but more focus in the future will surely serve these Londoners well.



Other Men, Wake Up Swimming, Robcore Records

Whether in Pinback or some other outfit, there's no mistaking
Rob Crow's understated pipes, but Other Men represents something new. Or as he titles track three, they’re "Kind of Off
to the Side a Bit." In collaboration with Heavy Vegetable's Travis Nelson (guitar) and Manolo Turner (drums), the San Diego-
based bassist/vocalist pursues a more prog-oriented path.

The inaugural release from his own Robcore imprint doesn't ramble on endlessly—it's no Tales from Topographic Oceans II—but the tunes are rougher around the edges than most Pinback artifacts. Gone are the atmospheric piano and synth flourishes.

The bass-heavy result lies between melodic math-rock and angular post-rock. If you've ever wondered what “Roxanne”-era Police would sound like on downers or Tortoise on uppers, the answer lies within the virtual grooves of Wake up Swimming.



Endnote: John Hillcoat-directed video from YouTube.