Robyn Writes

Review: Tyler Daniel Bean – Everything You Do Scares Me [7″]

Huzzah! Tyler Daniel Bean returns with a two track 7” of his tender and introspective emo stylings. Hot on the heels of 2012’s stunning LP Longing, a record that no doubt swooned so many fragile hearts, Everything You Do Scares Me continues Tyler’s commentary on his inner turmoil, where sorrow is clearly engrained in every trembling vocal line and overtly minor key chord progression.

Subject matter of death and the shockwaves it sends through the psyches of loves ones may seem foreboding and somewhat morbid, but Tyler’s sublimely striking musicianship and narratives endowed with plain-speaking humility proves alluring to the ear. His incredibly personal lyrics, detailing his inability to cry after the death of a friend, suggest shame – his incapacity to react and convey his grief through means deemed as customary obviously tearing at his soul. He turns to self-deprecation- mocking himself as an “asshole” for his apparent emotional shortcomings. Such world-weary maturity fits the ‘old head on young shoulders’ archetype down to a tee, Tyler’s sensitive and acute observations on the process of grief and sadness belying his relative youth.

Side A, ‘Year Of The Snake’, is held together by sulkily strummed minor chords and a chiming lead guitar reminiscent of American Football’s melancholic and mellow emo digressions. Allusions to Brand New are cemented through a sublime dynamism, Tyler masterfully taking the song to an exultant crescendo where he frees himself of much of the measured restraint, his vocal delivery growing in intensity until it begins to break and fragment. A painfully simple four-note riff brings the track to a dignified and sullen conclusion.

‘I Was Wrong’ employs a more driving rhythmic urgency yet sacrifices none of the subtly invoked gloom that lurks over both of these tracks, inflicting every melody and vocal nuance with a forlorn bleakness and the feeling of omnipresent grey skies . The weaker of the two songs, the track is no less affecting in its conveyance of emotion but remains less aurally intriguing than the A-side.

Everything You Do Scares Me is a beautiful continuation of Tyler’s growing body of work, his playing branching out and becoming more refined. Anyone with a love for American Football’s seminal self-titled album or indeed the sombre emo of the 90’s will surely fall for Tyler’s inviting croon and sumptuous instrumental arrangements. A perfect soundtrack to accentuate bouts of melancholy.

4 out of 5 high fives!

J-Pop Sunday – Super Update Special!

Hello all! Welcome to a slightly different edition of J-Pop Sunday! Today, rather than introduce you to a new artist, we’re instead going to have a quick look back to some of the artists we’ve covered over the past six months and check out what they’ve been up to since they were featured. I swear, this is totally not like when the writing team of a sitcom have run out of ideas and decide to do a clip show episode. Honestly. And the editor lady said it was ok.

First up, remember Kyary Pamyu Pamyu? Of course you do, we mentioned her back in February. The young fashionista has continued her campaign towards global domination by hosting live performances around the world – including here in the UK –appearing in adverts for literally anything back home in Japan – including KFC, Suzuki, and most recently a part time work recruitment agency – and of course she’s still releasing music. A new album “Nanda Collection” was released in June and two singles from the album have also appeared. “Invader Invader” (which – I’ll be honest – I thought was a bit pants) and “Ninjyaribanban” which mixes together Kyary’s familiar style with an old timey Japan theme.

Ahhhh, LiSA. Gosh, she’s still pretty. She’s also released a new single since we last saw her. It’s called “Träumerei” (which translates from German as “Dreaming”) and yet again it’s being used to plug an anime series. Come on LiSA, you don’t need to do this anymore! You’re more than good enough to stand on your own two feet! All it leads to are weird NicoNico (a Japanese video sharing site; it’s like YouTube but full of Miku Hatsune videos) and YouTube comments…

Most surprisingly, BABYMETAL still exist. I wasn’t originally planning on including them in this update round-up…thing, but their newest single “Megitsune” (Female Fox) is actually pretty awesome. They also performed at Japan’s “Summer Sonic” rock festival earlier this month.

90’s throwbacks Access (or AXS if you prefer) have a new single and are on tour once again. Sadly, I haven’t been able to find the video for “JOY TRAIN” – yes ,that really is the name of the single – so we’re going to have to make do with the advert for it which – according to TBO Editor-in-Chief, Robyn – is “like the 80s vomited rainbows onto YouTube”.

In very slightly more sane news POLYSICS and the telephones join forces next month to embark on a joint European tour! (Get hype, people!) The bands will visit France, The Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium and the UK this September. POLYSICS’ official English language site had all the info for dates and venues. Under normal circumstances I would be very excited at the prospect of seeing my favourite band performing live, but, as current plans go, I will be out of the country when they are in the UK. This makes me rather angry at myself and at one git who is currently in Canada. As such I think we should leave it there for now.

I need a cup of tea to calm myself down. UNTIL NEXT TIME, PEOPLE! There will be new content. I swear.

Review: Pariso – Consanguinity

Holy shit! Where did this record come from? Consanguinity emerges with no hype, no prior announcement or any of those irritating “teaser” videos that are now standard industry exponents – in doing so casting a refreshing air of mysticism over the release instead of a formulaic and monotonous build-up. Consanguinity sees Pariso shed much of their penchant for brevity and insistence on getting to the point in the most intense possible way whilst maintaining the ridiculous levels of beats-per-minute to which they apply their terrifying hardcore fare.

Comprised of Pariso’s trademark pulverising grind, the soundtrack to many a violent and sweaty pit, Consanguinity exudes a more spacious quality than much of their previous claustrophobic hellfire yet compromises absolutely none of their impossible heaviness. A decidedly amped up production courtesy of Ranch Studios- the go-to studio for the UK underground heavy contingent, aides the bands newfound eye for expanse. It ensures moments of pure brutality arrive like a bludgeon to the face whereas sparse moments of relative introspection convey affecting atmospherics.

Instances of blurred intensity are decidedly more sporadic than their earlier output, the guitarists are now discovering the mischievous glee of penning riffs that crush and pulverise. Whilst sections such as the opening grind of opener ‘The Separation’ and the unstoppable driving force of ‘Pigs’ exude familiar levels of devastations: guitar and drums united in chaotic flurry, the sonic palette they eschew is capacious. Influences emerge from the murkier corners of the heavy rock diaspora, spreading their tendrils towards the unorthodox and toying with some ideas that exist decidedly outside of the box. There is even a occurrence of *gasp* sung vocals, somewhat of a faux-pas for many bands in Pariso’s field and a device seemingly at odds with the band’s feral and brutal disposition. Yet, in the context of ‘Tower of Genus’, a track modelled on a post-hardcore mould engrained with melodic inflictions that nod toward Deftones heavy/lush juxtaposition, the ‘clean’ vocals soar, contrasting the caustic grain of Mario’s defiantly English-accented screams.

The tired cliché of “heavy yet more melodic” can be applied here with upmost validity, the band awakening to the impact that a wider dynamic field can yield. This is a band who surely have yet to reach their creative peak, a myriad of potential pathways lay before the group. For Pariso, brutality knows no bounds, they are evidently still intent on penning the most uncompromisingly intense music their bodies and psyches can withstand. Thankfully, their curiosity to toy with moments of oddity and the unexpected leaves Pariso as an ever-evolving entity whose artistry can surely only proliferate.

4.5 out of 5 high fives!

Review: The Masquerade – Home Is Where You Make It

Eugh. The Masquerade: four quintessentially American adolescents who have grabbed the wrong end of the stick and refuse to refute their grip. If you can hold back the overwhelming natural instinct to turn off their debut E.P Home Is Where You Make It and hurriedly delete every trace of it from your computer then I take my hat off to you. It’s such an unrewarding listen it’s almost offensive. In fact it is rather saddening that the lifeless, saccharine and nasal drivel that The Masquerade purveys even constitutes as pop-punk. C’mon guys, sure pop-punk is supposed to exist within a certain comfort zone, but Home Is Where You Make It remains devoid of any charm, soul or value. Milo Goes To College is obviously lost on these guys.

For starters, the E.P boasts a production so sanitised the producer may as well have thrown a bucket of bleach over the entire mix and scrubbed until his hands were raw. A radio-primed sheen is overbearing, hyper-editing having flattened the sonic plain into a bland miasma of triggered drums and a perpetual nasal-bleating from the vocalist that makes Tom Delonge sound downright gruff in comparison. Their apparent ambition: a sanitised amalgamation of generic pop/punk riddled with an astounding array of clichés, delivered thick and fast until the tracks border on boorish parody.

Even after some frantic searching, any originality or notion of idiosyncratic micro-nuance remains defiantly absent. It seems The Masquerade are intent on toeing a generic line, condemning themselves to the grand honour of acting as support band to others who peddle the exact same cliché-core piffle, yet manage to execute with aeons more style and substance than these four Nickelodeon-styled lads. Pithy major key breakdowns are scattered across the arrangements, watered-down and lifeless; carrying all the punch of a Steven Hawking right hook, despite the staggering array of plug-ins and effects that no doubt have been thrown on the mix.

Opening track ‘The Weekend’ could easily soundtrack the closing credits to a direct-to-video American Pie spin off, its chorus hook of “Let’s make this last forever” acting as a not so subtle nod/rip-off/pastiche of Blink 182’s ‘First Date’, albeit minus the any ounce of humour. It’s mall rat pop-punk, where the entire ‘punk’ label is applied with the upmost nominalism, manifesting solely in a selection of ill-advised tattoos and facial piercings. Even the hooks fail to reel in interest with even the slightest degree of catchiness. Quite simply, this is lame pop music masquerading as punk – even a token pinch-squeal or “mosh” part fails to lift Home Is Where You Make It from being a horrid and tepid excuse for a record with a lyrical array that extends no further than variations on having a really fun weekend.

The Masquerade, aka My First Pop-Punk Band. Gloriously awful stuff.

1 out of 5 high fives!

Live: Empire/Planecrasher/Layers – The Firefly, Worcester, 1/8/13

So. A baking hot school night in a provincial city in middle England. Three stories up above a side street and behind a sprawling new Asda… we have some bands. Three sweaty examples of the best the Midlands scene has to offer. And at £3 in – that’s a whole quid a band -seriously, what’s not to love?

First up – Empire. Billed as Faith No More does hardcore, these boys were bright as you like. A simple but highly effective riff-heavy sound of drums, bass and lead providing a rock solid platform for the hugely, hugely impressive vocal range of their charismatic and snake-hipped front man. And yep, this boy has a genuine touch of a young Mike Patton in manner and delivery. These guys are maybe what you might call post-emo: crystal clear vocals, but with a scuzzier feel to their melodic sound than the Alkaline Trio-s of this world. For sake of comparison, there isn’t quite the nails-hard edge here that you find, say, in Mr P’s works peri or post Faith No More – and no down low screaming from the legendary crouch… But then, who wants to rehash the trademark stage antics of a man who when given his own free artistic rein does songs about sex with food (Mr Bungle – google it, people). In all, Empire work up a really interesting sound, with stacks of potential – and the vocalist in particular deserves more superlatives than I can give him here. A couple of their tracks had a groove that kind of got right down into your pelvis, and I believe you can find the video to one of these – ‘Blackheart’ – on that facetube right now. Go see it and give these good people your support.

Now. Planecrasher. Sounding initially like a wall of ultra-heavy stoner, but with way more spark and crank than than this moniker implies – this was utterly engaging and unashamed carnage. Loud as sweet merry fuck, with said wall of noise decorated with twiddly guitar detailing straight out of Gregg Ginn’s SCT playbook and pure filth basslines straight out of Trouser Minnow-era Rapeman – Hereford’s Planecrasher are aptly named. This was weapons-grade chugging that could take out a fucking airbus. These guys obviously know their hardcore history (the influences of the band were plain to see from the bassist’s Shellac T-shirt, which was apparently gifted by the very hand of the speccy fruitcake Albini himself) – and this was a fair joyous fusion of Big Black, Iron Monkey, Black Flag and Kyuss. Think a waaay gnarlier QOTSA and you won’t be far off the mark. However. Josh Homme and friends are damp as a wet Christmas live – not so these fellows. The towering brute on lead guitar and vocals was obviously the alpha monkey of the group, but the ball of dreddlocks on the four string was pretty much the star of the show, totally going off to his dirty, dirty music. Point of note is that they even drove the uber-geek front man from Fights and Fires away from the front of the stage, eventually. It was either the aural onslaught, or he needed a pee. Maybe the latter.

A few words about the drummer, too. Every stick man should be slightly off his nut. Goes with the job description. And the nuttier they are the harder they play. And in my book, he (or she) can never play too hard. And the wiry little Iggy-a-like in this band played like he hated that shaky kit more than the man who had just killed his cat. Brutal.

Last on – Layers. These cheeky chappies really look the part. A very modern, good-looking bunch of lads – including the mega-bearded chrome dome in the Billy Talent T-shirt on lead, who had a style and stage presence evident in the face of tech adversity he had to gamely deal with. Bouncy and energetic as hell and no shortage of poke – if they’d been able to get into their stride fully this band would probably have taken the roof off. The pool of hip kids they had clustered around the stage were visibly bursting to hear them play, and they coped with the tech difficulties that interrupted the set very well indeed – launching right back into it with vigour and professionalism once the various guitar issues got sorted. Their sound is decidedly “now” – taking influences from hardcore and pop punk, even some pure metal – and mixing it freely with no mind to genre or orthodoxy – with soul and R&B. Plan B meets Let Live? That’d actually be a disservice – mainly because the geezer that helped butcher the Sweeney remake hasn’t got an ounce of the spunky freshness of the vocalist in this outfit – and nowhere near his soaring, gospel-quality delivery. You’ll make good pros gentlemen, if all the internet whispers about you come to fruition. Ones to watch indeed.

And finally… just a shout out to the people behind these gigs too. Every town dreams of having its own scene. Well, any town with self-awareness and personality. And through the efforts of a local crew of promoters (Surprise Attacks) there may, just may, be the first sparks of one starting here. With things apparently mobilising behind the scenes, a stable of bands representing for the local area (Fights and Fires and Thirty Six Strategies not least), and some fairly awesome gigs – Crucial Section, Baby Godzilla, HDQ – booked at this same venue (the Firefly) over the Autumn, here’s hoping that the Wu really is on the rise. Who knows. Or dares to dream.

4.5 out of 5 high fives!