Deep Probe of Admirable New and Recently Released Albums

Two full-length, track-by-track album reviews are the featured output this time here at DaveCromwellWrites.  An overdue return to greatness comes by way of legendary creators and long-time friends of this site.  It’s always satisfying when one can reignite feelings of excitement and admiration that an artist initially stoked in you.  These moments are what you live for, and should never be taken lightly. Equally important is a brand new album from more recent contributors (to this site, anyway) who’s timeline of productivity mirrors the first entry.  There’s a starting point for everything, and the focus here is on these latest works.

When the original “Pe'ahi” album was released by The Raveonettes in 2014, an in-depth review of it was conducted at this website. That actually served as the ninth full-length review of this bands work here spanning a time period from January 2009 through September 2014. The review writing done earlier (which goes back as far as 2003) is now lost to the wind and dead sea scrolls of now defunct hyperlinks. Post Pe'ahi (1), an epic 3,744 word review of their “2016 Atomized” album was published here in January 2017. Following that was an August 2018 one-on-one interview with the bands mastermind Sune Rose Wagner.  After a long hiatus The Raveonettes recently released a much anticipated follow-up to Peahi, simply titled “Pe'ahi II.”  DaveCromwellWrites now digs into every essential aspect of each track with recharged purpose.

True to the opening tracks song title, the album starts with horror movie sounding plinking toy piano notes on “Strange.” It’s a 1950’s style stroll progression before the primary forceful guitar chords commence to chug along with bass guitar in tandem. The familiar Everly Brothers-style blended Sune and Sharin vocals deliver opening lines “Whenever we try it's a waste of - my time – yeah. Whenever we fight do you feel it? You bring me to my knees and tears.” Melodic guitar figures follow, immediately underscoring what gorgeous songwriting this is. Wagner laments about losing someone to “a boy who looked like me,” pointing out how “strange” it is “to go from the other side to this.” It all leads up to an angelic chorus that states “when we try – can we feel it’s ok” – “and it feels just like love.” That euphoric moment is ultimately countered by sparser instrumentation and comedown sentiment “it’s a waste of you and I.” The tracks final minute is an ambient dreamscape of metronome clicks and hisses over a simple keyboard rendition of the melody.

Check it out:

Follow-up cut “Blackest” starts out just as mysteriously, this time approximating a jazz combo with busy free-form drumming and soft reverberated electric guitar. Pulsing bass notes soon begins and spoken word as if from a radio broadcast can be faintly heard. All of that is obliterated when forceful buzzing guitars burst into the mix, soon joined by a power-thump drum beat. One more layer adds on with a descending “detective story” guitar melody. All of that suddenly drops out leaving behind changeover “ooohs” and a stark rendition of the songs lyrics. “When I rise on my wave - the moon shows her face. A lonely dot at sea - a lonely girl coming straight at me.” The trademark Wagner long slithery guitar groove is never far away, and the one here is everything you could want. Cycling one more time through the lyrical passage, Sune’s guitar follows with a flurry of melodic lines against moody backing instrumentals and an eventual thump-n-bump drum beat outtro.

An official band lyric video accompanies this one:

A syncopated rhythm between driving guitar and stutter-stop drum pattern immediately kicks off third entry “Dissonant.” Harmonized Sharin and Sune vocals jump in, delivered quickly at one more alternating tempo. “Come and get beside her - just pretend you like her - this love is all yours to fake” is the opening, disillusioned sentiment. “I tend to harden up when our love is set to go - I wanna give it up for someone I don't know” completes the hit-and-run encounter. A musical callback to “Attack of the Ghost Riders” follows to much surprise (and delight). With that initial verse/bridge progression cycling though again, a quick stop deep bass buzz plateau is reached at the minute-and-a-half mark (and lasting over a minute) before it’s percolating build-up launches back into one more verse.

A classic, straightforward drum beat leads in the official lyric video enhanced track “Killer.” Melody kicks in by way of a tinkling bell sheen on its descending chord progression. Rough guitar chords slash underneath as dual sung vocals commence. While the verses are catchy in their own right, it’s the chorus that hooks you in immediately with the battle-scarred relationship lines “Kill for love, and make it so I don't care. Most of the time, I felt so alone.” After a second pass through it stops abruptly, with elegant piano notes and finger snaps in it’s place. Percussion returns, adding a steady current under the extended piano melody. Another subtle change halts that progression for brief arpeggio guitar notes, before returning to that relentless forward march. It’s an unusual (and unexpected) coda that measures half of the entire songs length.

A steady hard-edged guitar riff is the opening force driving next cut “Lucifer.” Motorik percussion joins in with measured pace, offsetting the guitars urgent nature. Softer higher range vocals spell out what appears to be a demonic fever dream. Bass guitar and more bottom heavy drums usher in the next passage adding a bit more grit and a touch of funk it it all. That is emphasized even further once the original hyper-drive guitar riff returns. Another more spacious audio section change includes lyrics indicating “Lucifer” is a woman who “never felt love” is “tired of all the fighting” and “wants to walk alone.” Cinematic in scope, the primary driving guitar hook once again moves out and open spaces emerge in its place. The tracks final minute is a blend of softer alternating guitar riffs, scratch-buzz percussion and ultimately deep buzzing synths.

Distant, chiming guitar ambiance is the deceptive fade in on forward charging rocker “Speed.” Sune’s vocals are pitched into a slightly higher register as he delivers loosely related strung together lyrics alternating between hope and defiant resignation. “My hope died down I can't explain” (negative) “Somewhere I know that I belong” (positive), “Don't sell your soul you're young not old” (positive), “Don't waste your time you're one of a kind” (more of a pep talk). True to the song title, it’s fast paced, tasty guitar lick driven, and while the percussion is hissy and somewhat buried, there’s lots of angelic background voices floating all throughout.

The percussion stops momentarily leaving only guitar fuzz to emphasize lyrics “Got hit by a car and emerged unharmed” (well that’s good) “A failure in life means a winner in hell” (what?). Other lines that stand out, like “I don't wanna die without having tried” (good advice) and “You're jealous of me for what I've done” (that seems rather personal and one wonders who that is aimed at). The final verse let’s it all hang out, with the lines “I belong to this generation of filth” (self realization), “I was pushed into life entertained by war” (we’ve talked about this directly interviews and related song reviews), “we're pretty and blessed to have met with death (?!), “cause I know when he comes I'll take his hand” (yeah, I suppose, but don’t wanna think about that now – or ever – when it happens it happens – nothing you can do about it).

Reaching the albums penultimate track, “Sunday School” emerges in full motion from the get-go as a quick-breeze ditty. With emphasis on vocals and lyrical story telling rather than instrumental depth, it’s the perky, harmonized chorus that instantly connects. “What if you met him on a rainy day, he wouldn't get a word you say. This ain't no darling little Sunday school, cause he'd kill for love but not kill for you.” Bonus points for adding bell-chimes on the bridge section “and all the things that break you down, he never cared at all. Another time another place, he never cared at all.” That is follow by single throbbing tone, with distant voices as if coming from a far off radio. The final verse include lyrics too intriguing to ignore, with “fucked dates go to their graves” (!?), “young men end their lives” (negative), “young girls become wives” (positive).

Final cut “Ulrikke” brings back the harsh distorted guitars and thunderdome drumming for it’s abrupt shock-to-the-system intro. All that drops out quickly on opening verses that culminate with the line “make me indestructible as I am.” That intro noisy instrumentation returns, now sounding like an approximation of a train chugging down railway tracks. The second verse (same as the first) benefits from trip-hop style percussion and distinct, stylized recitation (and pronunciation) of the words. “Make me feel like finding someone - who can never do right and can never go wrong” becomes the catchy (if somewhat puzzling) refrain.

It's a wonderful album overall, and a reminder of the seemingly effortless ability Sune Rose Wagner has in writing, recording and bringing a record to fruition.

Connect with the band and find out how to acquire the album via this link.

Follow them on their Social Media at Facebook, Instagram and YouTube.

A full review the first “Pe'ahi” album (along with links at the end to 8 other Raveonettes reviews) can be found here.

An interview with Sune Rose Wagner on this site can be found here.

Finally, at full track-by-track review of all 12 "Atomized" song can be found on this site here.

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Around two and a half years ago this site did an extensive review of Canadian indie rockers Star Collector’s 6th studio album “Attack, Sustain, Decay . . . Repeat.”  That was the result of being impressed by their (and subsequently reviewed here) video single “Green Eyes” from fifth recording “Game Day.”  Now the band is back with their just released seventh album "Everything Must Go!" Expecting nothing less than another power-pop masterpiece, DCW digs down into this latest output.

The album opens with overall title track “Everything Must Go!” along with a full video production. This title name is something you would see on retail stores looking to move all their merchandise in one last blowout. That doesn’t seem to be the case however with this band, as their meaning is more universal as in letting material things go (“cause you can’t hold on to it”). The track (and video) comes into view initially via mix-master drummer Adrian Buckley’s subtle backmasking followed by a propulsive beat. Slashing guitar chords jump in, delivered by Vic Wayne and Steve Monteith with Tony Kerr’s bass locking to this progression that echoes The Who’s “The Real Me.”

Vic’s vocals are less Roger Daltry and more Alex Chilton in timbre, as he calls out for you to “come along for the show.” There’s an early “easter egg” for classic film buffs with the lyrical reference “Warriors, come out to play” (if you know the scene, you never forget it). Continuing it’s anti-materialism theme “we ain’t any richer than our memories,” “can’t put a price on feelin’ this way” and “you can’t buy tomorrow” leave no doubt as to what “must go.” In classic power-pop fashion, a blistering lead guitar break by Steve at the two minute mark is tasty indeed.

Check out this song and video here:

Second entry “Victory Dance” builds around wiry slide guitar and hand-clap-style percussion. A chugging mid-tempo groove, lyrics tell a tale of “we” (us) vs “they” (everyone who isn’t us) with an unconcerned “And we laughed” hook resolution.  Big chiming guitar chords and fluid bass propel third track “Shining Example.”  A higher-register backing vocal harmonizes with Vic on verses, while the change is solo voice intimate. The overall feel is closer to Neil Young and Crazy Horse than traditional power-pop.

Stacatto percussion, slithering bass and open note guitar figures lead in the subdued “Queen Bed.”  Gentle female vocals (courtesy of Renee Suchy) join Vic on the understated “fight or flight” segment and following chorus.  Those essential backing vocals become more prominent as the song progresses through this tale of returning to single life.  Angular prog-rock accents provide instrumental change hooks for the torn memory saga “Black Nostalgia.”  A particularly busy bass guitar line runs throughout, and especially stands out on the ethereal “Ah – Ahh” chorus.  Vic drops his vocal timbre down low for the emphatic final verse where “the brutal truth” is addressed once and for all.  

Referencing the Greek myth of Sisyphus, “Roll That Rock (Up That Hill)” bounces along briskly with contributions from guest musician Adam East (guitar, bass and vocals).  Each lyrical burden is met with a definitive “And I don’t mind.”  A soft plateau mid-song change section indicates that even if you “scream into the vacuum, everyone’s [still] a critic.”    “Overblown” is an easy, breezy groove with lyrical focus on interpersonal turmoil. The question is asked “would you really be better off alone?” Frequent references to “the devil you know” describes multiple outcomes.

“Heavy On You” comes into focus via distorted buzz-fuzz and a-cappella vocals. When the mid-tempo cruncher rhythm comes in, a cautionary tale spells out how “a special kind of fresh hell - when you look at yourself - heavy on you and your mirrorball.”  Bonus points for the thoroughly savory guitar lead running through the center.  Bright acoustic guitar and melodic bass guitar melodies usher in the merseybeat tinged “The Best Thing.” Clever wordplay combining descriptive terms “bushwhacked,” “ransacked” and “gobsmacked” focuses on a spirited literary approach.  Essential statement “the best decision you ever made was doing nothing at all” rings ultimately true.

Light touch drumming and prominent bass guitar provide instrumental backing for the vocally intimate “Static.”  There is a simple yet inventive nod to the songwriters plight with the line “searching for a chorus in a never-ending verse.”   Quick paced chunky guitar rock returns for the lyrically opaque “Section 8.”  Ostensibly about the rental housing assistance program often referred to by that name, a penetrating guitar riff adds necessary melody between each line of the verses.  Jungle thump drumming, slashing guitars and a hyperactive bass guitar pattern propels penultimate track “Shakedown The Breakdown.”  As hoped for, a smoking lead guitar solo rips n’ rolls at multiple points throughout. Because when you come down to it, “We all need a gang in this cold town.”

The album closes on an adventurous direction for the band, breaking from their signature power pop style with “Your Version Of Me.” Written as a collaboration between Vic and long-time friend of this site Jody Porter (most recent review on his music here, with linkbacks to  numerous others) the groove echoes Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here.”  Building off an instrumental demo Jody presented, Vic’s lyrics build from original intentions with the lines “You were banking on a new religion - a grift you kept on the sly.”  The songs title refers to how everyone we come in contact with has their own personal “version of you” and how that differentiates somewhat among all of them.  No one can know everything about you, as such only have their own impression of you. “Now, I’m free… and not your version of me,” becomes the definitive statement.  It’s a gentle and introspective way to end an album that overall is loaded with one fine song after another.

Dig in to the album here:

Find out how to acquire this groovy power pop album at their Bandcamp

Follow Star Collector on their Social Media  -  Facebook   -   Instagram

A previous DCW feature on this artist can be found here.

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