Three Imaginary Girls - Afternoon Records

A Collage of Impressions

XLAbester — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 05:47:54 +0000

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000XFZSEA/wwwthreeimagi-20/

It’s quite fitting that Poison Control Center’s debut LP is called A Collage of Impressions. This fearless, energetic Iowa-based indie pop-rock band extracts the essences of a wide variety of musical influences and fuses them into a diverse sound that alternately comes across as brilliant and disjointed. At its core, this album refuses to be pinned down and labeled, a feature that cuts both ways.

Here’s the best way I can describe PCC’s sound: What if the Unicorns and the Strokes got piss-drunk one night and, against all odds, spewed forth a child? At its best, PCC masterfully blends Unicorns-esque crackling creativity (non-traditional song structure, varied lead vocalists, brilliant licks that tease and then disappear, and whispered, confessional vocals) with Strokes-like guitars that offer a warm and satisfying sonic wall to lean against.

The opener, “Driving,” starts off with dissonance, as squealing, distorted bass and guitars wheel about, accompanied by drums and vocals that sound like they came from angst-fueled middle schoolers. But just as quickly as the screeching begins, it drops out and we’re left with gorgeous, murmured vocals and a subtle guitar and piano accompaniment that leads into a strings-driven finale. PCC ask for trust as they leap off this cliff: “We are going somewhere we’ve never been before...” This is the essence of PCC; they know exactly how to get us to think we know what’s coming, and they revel in dropping our expectations out from under us without sneering or thumbing their noses.

The creepy, beautiful fourth track, “Park Slope,” is a dark highlight of the album, a constantly shifting sonic landscape that conjurs images of dark, snowy nights and what sounds like a terrifying urban legend. Behind a terse mixture of guitar, keyboards, and whispered vocals, an insistent, creepy bass drum builds tension and leaves you wondering if you really want to know what this song is about.

Other highlights of the album include “Glory Us,” a quick, dance-y lovers' anthem with a badass bass-led coda, and the sprawling “Magic Circle Symphony,” which somehow combines Hendrix with the Strokes, the Arcade Fire, and maybe even Blink-182, to lead us to a fist-pumping wizard rock finale (“Love, love is the answer”).

The only weak spots on this album are the Neil Young-like folk-rock songs. Though a few of these tracks would be good on their own (especially “Losing to Living”), they clash with the snappy, modern sound of the rest of the album.

Like the Unicorns, many of PCC’s songs hook you instantly, but also keep rewarding you if you listen a few times. Also like the Unicorns, the first and last songs on this album are about being ready to die ... but hopefully we haven’t yet heard the last of PCC.

Here’s the best way I can describe Poison Control Center’s sound: What if the Unicorns and the Strokes got piss-drunk one night and, against all odds, spewed forth a child?

The Pretender

Phil Duncan — Mon, 21 May 2007 05:29:21 +0000

7.5

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000OTC3ZM/wwwthreeimagi-20

hooksforhands07may.jpg

We All Have Hooks for Hands, hereafter referred to as Hooks for Hands for brevity’s sake, are probably the biggest thing to explode out of Sioux Falls, SD since, well since probably ever. The band, which has enough players to fill the Mariners’ starting roster and could probably pitch better, play surprisingly stripped-down, low-key sunshine pop reminiscent of early Shins combined with the choral sensibilities of the Polyphonic Spree.

The Pretender is a healthy mix of straight-ahead indie pop mixed gently with acoustic subtleties, quirky keys, and the occasional trumpet. The band shines on tracks such as “Jumpin’ Jean-Luc,” which cleverly combine electronic, acoustic, and toy instruments. When the band can control the sheer power of nine people strumming, kicking, picking, and blowing on a multitude of instruments, the potential energy (a science refresher: a huge rock propped on the top of hill, but not yet rolling has potential energy) of these understated tracks create a truly moving experience, such as the brief, 49-second “The Teeth That Feed the Lions.”

However, the band’s nine members can occasionally step on each other’s feet, such as in the aural mess that is “Elvis ‘MF’ Christ” and the bloody-knuckled untitled track that closes The Pretender.

When the band can pull all of their elements together they create rich, layered songs that carry themselves in a very cinematic and vast manner. The track “Hold On, C’mon” features very defined performances from the troupe, giving the song an orchestral quality. Hooks for Hands is a very good example of the potential many members can give a band. In an age of guitar and drum power duos, they are a breath of fresh air – a band that can intricately paint a picture rather than splattering one out in two colors on the canvas.

In an age of guitar and drum power duos, they are a breath of fresh air – a band that can intricately paint a picture rather than splattering one out in two colors on the canvas.

The End

Cal Ledbetter — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 06:36:23 +0000

6.8

http://www.afternoonrecords.com/releasestore.html

mouthfulofbees07feb.jpg

Minneapolis band Mouthful of Bees' first album, The End, opens with the sunshine and light breeze of spring, taking listeners on a tour reminiscent of the four seasons as tracks progress from sunlight infused whimsy to the depths of winter doldrums and back to the first opening flower bulbs announcing the oncoming warmth.

Katelyn Farstad's shaky drumming on the first track, "The Now," sounds like a baby deer trying to stand for the first time, as the sunny, surf-rock guitars bounce and wobble as lead singer, Chris Farstad's, lackadaisical vocals float through the song like fluffy clouds in an otherwise blue sky.

The spring-time feeling continues on "Jessica," with the tempo dropping enough to entice you to spread out a blanket in the park and enjoy the afternoon sun with a cool beer (or alternative beverage for the band members — none of them are of drinking age).

As the songs progress, you can envision yourself listing to The End as the weather warms up, the sun comes out, and you finally exile your sweaters into storage. "Under the Glacier" drives you outdoors to throw around the Frisbee with friends, and "I Saw a Golden Light" could easily be overheard coming from the loudspeakers as you while away the steamy afternoon enjoying the outdoor seating of your local pub.

But the mood changes, just like the seasons, as "Serpent" takes you into fall (maybe a little too prematurely) when all you wanted to do is have summer last a little longer. Micky Alfano's bass and Mark Ritsema's guitar sound like falling leaves, eventually drying up and crackling under your shoes.

"Talking" reminds you of those days sipping coffee as you stroll the sidewalk with friends, wearing a scarf to ward off the autumnal chill, and "Get Out" is the kind of song you'd want to hear if you went to see Mouthful of Bees live show over the Thanksgiving holiday. The vocals are delivered with an intriguing mix of desperation and authority, lending a maturity level unexpected in such young artists.

And then, before you know it, it's winter. The snow's falling, and you want nothing more than to stay indoors, wrapped up in a blanket while listening to "Airport." The jingle-bells and pretty piano of "Sunny" remind you the sun will indeed be out again, and the snow will eventually go away. But not before a long, depressing and gray January. "Upon Reaching Cedar Falls, IA" makes you plead for winter to finally be over.

But alas, spring does come again in "Old Gold," and you drive with the windows down for the first time and stretch your arms out to enjoy the soft breeze. It's the culmination of an annual cycle and once again the drums bounce on shaky legs while sunny, happy guitars rollick underneath a lilting voice.

It was a good year, one to be remembered, but when all was said and done, you hoped that Mouthful of Bees would have lingered in one season a little longer.

The vocals are delivered with an intriguing mix of desperation and authority, lending a maturity level unexpected in such young artists.