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(03/22/18 1:01am)
“2012-2017” is the newest album released by Against All Logic, a front for electronic producer and DJ Nicolas Jaar. Why Jaar has chosen this alias this time around is puzzling given the large discography that exists under his own name, but it might have something to do with this record’s unique take on his electronic stylings. As the name suggests, “2012-2017” is only an album in the loosest sense and is more a collection of tracks from over the years that never found a home under Jaar’s standard moniker. The only real commonality between the tracks is a bit of a house-music sensibility, as it is the kind of music that would be played at a Techno Tuesday DJed by someone who wanted to DJ while retaining their hipster credibility.
The result is amazing; Jaar’s house-collage doesn’t really have a consistent creative vision or thematic strand, but its scraps-of-ideas patchwork makes the album relentlessly experimental. There’s a lot of sampling, mostly from older soul, funk and jazz records, forming some ridiculously catchy tracks (the best example being “Know You,” a techno-funk mashup that takes a simple concept and turns it into what might be the best song on the album), as well as boldly sampling “Yeezus” at one point. For every piece of soul-house, there’s a longer, more ambient and traditional take on the genre, concluding with the 10-minute, fairly low-key “Rave on U.” The familiar house tropes of repetition and deep bass mean that despite its lack of cohesion, the entire listening experience feels right from start to finish. It is electronic music that is accessible for people who are not big on electronic stuff and is a breath of fresh air for those who are and is already quite possibly the strongest electronic record of the year.
Score – 9/10
Standout Tracks: “I Never Dream” / “Know You” / “Now U Got Me Hooked”
(03/01/18 12:15am)
Middlebury’s biggest student musical act, The Big Sip, proves that sometimes, all it takes to assemble a band is a single night.
“We actually all met our first day, because we lived in the same hall, and jammed together the very first night of college,” said bassist Jack Cattabiani ’20. He along with Matt Dienar ’20 (guitar and vocals), Nick Schrope ’20 (keyboard), and Evan Mercer ’20 (drums) became fast friends, created a band, and settled on the name “The Big Sip,” which, as Diener explains, refers to someone taking “a Big Sip of pavement” (i.e. falling on the ground). The band’s first performance as a group was at the first Wednesday Open Mic Party (WOMP) of the fall of 2016. Since then, they’ve put themselves on an arc of growth, starting with their first non-WOMP show in Laurie Patton’s house and escalating to venues such as Burlington’s Higher Ground and Sidebar.
They’ve also been busy in the studio, making their own music.
“We started with mostly covers,” Cattabiani said.“[We were like a] Vulfpeck-cover-cover band. We’d only cover Vulfpeck songs or songs they’d covered.” But as they grew as a band, they produced their own, unique songs, influenced by the band’s various musical sensibilities.
“We all come from a jazz background,” said Diener, but both he and Cattabiani emphasized the wealth of influences the band uses, citing funk, rock, hip-hop and R&B as inspiration to create a unique sound that can’t quite be pinned down to any one of those genres. Their debut EP, Music for Clapping, is filled with funk and rock-inspired bass and guitar work, but the jazz influences still shine through, largely thanks to the band’s recording process that lends itself to showing off their improvisational talents.
Diener said that Music for Clapping was only recorded with “two tracks, one of all the instruments and one with the vocals.” This somewhat unconventional choice made parts of the album tricky to work with in post-production, with Cattabiani noting that the mixing of the five-track EP took months to finish, but it paid off musically. Near the end of their first track, “Escaldita,” you can hear jazz improvisation where the bass is playing off the guitar, and vice versa, creating an organic musical moment that can’t be pre-written in normal songwriting.
“It happened in the moment, and now it’s captured forever,” said Cattabiani. This sort of “jazzification” is present in some of the band’s cited influences, such as BADBADNOTGOOD, whose jazzy spins on hip-hop tracks give them a unique sound (a sound also seen on the lone cover in Music for Clapping’s tracklist, a funk and jazz-ified cover of Chance The Rapper’s “Cocoa Butter Kisses”).
But The Big Sip isn’t content with this sound they’ve found. They’re still trying to evolve it and find their identity as artists. That’s as good a reason as any to be excited for their new EP, the release date of which is up in the air, but contains material good enough to get them a manager, a big business move for such a young group. It’s hard to say what exactly to expect from them in terms of evolution, partially because the band members themselves have trouble articulating. Writing original music is difficult, and Diener and Cattabiani themselves refer to burnout they experienced for a time when trying to have new music ready for every new set. They’ve moved back to having covers ready to entertain event-goers, but they’re still puzzling out what their own oeuvre ought to look like.
“Nothing we do while we’re here really matters,” said Diener, comparing Middlebury to a crucible, a breeding ground for a fledgling artist before they’re spit out into the real world. Music for Clapping is a great record, but it’s also the first for a very new band, and when fans of the sure-to-be-world-renowned The Big Sip (or whatever band evolves from them) look back, the work they do here as they try to find their footing could very well be their origin story.
“I don’t know what exactly I’ll end up doing,” Diener said. “I feel my purpose in life is to play music.” No one but The Big Sip knows for sure what’s next, but keep an eye out in the coming months for the newest EP and its release party. And if any talented vocalists are looking to be a part of this musical evolution, give The Big Sip a call. “We need a rapper,” Cattabiani said.
(01/17/18 10:36pm)
With the little bit of extra time this J-Term can provide, it is as good a time as any to discover new music. Here are a couple albums that could have slipped your radar in your lifetime, spanning from the early 2000s to now. If finding new music proves difficult or daunting, these fantastic works may be the place to find your next beloved artist.
Grandaddy — “Sumday” — While Grandaddy is a group with their roots in punk culture (their founder was a professional skateboarder), they were quick to find their own sound, supplanting the harsh punk power chords with synth and overproduced guitar to create a dreamier sound that isn’t quite folk, pop, or rock, but is remarkably cohesive in a way most of these conglomerative styles aren’t. “Sumday” is their artistic peak, and manages to be one of their most calming albums while teeming with intricate production and catchy riffs. An unheralded masterpiece, it deserves a listen from anyone looking for something to relax to.
Little People — “Mickey Mouse Operation” — This is one of the most impressive and consistent (mostly) instrumental /sample-heavy albums I’ve ever listened to. Half the tracks sound like they could be the instrumentals to some 90s rapper you’ve never heard of, but the beats stand out on their own as rhythmic and entrancing. A mix of piano, strings, percussion (I believe most of it is sampled, but impressive nonetheless) and electronic sounds make for a listening experience that stays remarkably true to itself while remaining packed with variety and avoiding the repetition that plagues so many instrumental works.
Julian Casablancas + The Voidz — “Tyranny” — This side project by The Strokes’ lead vocalist isn’t what fans of the band will expect, but it might be the best thing he’s been involved with since “Room on Fire.” The experimental LP takes its sound from industrial, punk, and simple innovation, with unique beats, unintelligible vocals, and swarming production that makes it impossible to digest in a single listen. It’s a controversial experiment, having received a 4.9 from Pitchfork,, for what little that’s worth, but the album is filled with ridiculous highs and tragic lows.The distortion hides the sometimes on-the-nose, sometimes meaningless lyrics behind an aesthetic, inimitable listening experience.
EDEN — “End Credits” — The newest discovery from me on this list, EDEN is quickly becoming one of my favorite pop-electronica artists. Irish musician Jonathan Ng got his start as an EDM artist with The Eden Project, but has slowly transitioned toward blending The Eden Project’s dance roots with poppier vocals and instrumentation. “End Credits” is his first project under his rebranded name EDEN, and it’s a hell of an EP. The devotion to electronica is still obvious while also pockmarked with slower ballads and wonderful vocals. All his work is wonderful (check out his cover of “Billie Jean”), but this one’s devotion to his electronic roots, less obvious in his newer EP, “i think you think too much of me,” means “End Credits” encapsulates all of EDEN’s artistic talents in just seven tracks.
Archive — “You All Look The Same To Me” — Archive is hard to pin down, but this album is one of the best things to come out of the early 2000s. It’s very clearly a product of its time, especially in the vocals and giveaways like the repetitive piano ballads, but there’s nothing else quite like it. It might be one of the greatest ‘downer’ albums of the century. If seasonal depression has you down, it’s the perfect listen. The opening, 16-minute ‘Again,’ is flush with sounds of loneliness, regret, and bitterness, all of which is channeled wonderfully through the production, which somehow wears its era on its sleeve while also seeming timeless.Its innovative tricks make the instrumentation alone worth the listen. I’ve never met anyone who listens to Archive, and that’s a shame, because this album is an absolute masterpiece.
Happy J-Term, everybody!
(11/16/17 12:40am)
This past Friday, Elle Varner performed for Middlebury’s annual Fall Concert. The Grammy-winning Los Angeles singer sang a mix of tracks from her album, Perfectly Imperfect, and some new music in Wilson Hall. The energy of both Varner and the crowd was palpable from the moment she stepped onstage, and refused to die down until she stepped away.
This artist goes for a sort of blunt lyricism that puts honesty above all else, creating some very raw and powerful vocal performances. The highs of ‘Fuck It Out’ and the twangs of ‘Refill’ were brought to life by Varner’s energetic and passionate delivery. Her music is very close to reality: songs about people with real, relatable problems, delivered in a way that makes you feel an empathetic link with individuals we’ve never met. And when the performance climaxed, as it did when Varner showed off her pipes in ‘I Don’t Care,’ the passion of crowd and performer made a lasting imprint.
Unfortunately, those moments were few and far between. Many of Varner’s songs were a bit flat in their ebb and flow, as well as in their production. Her pre-recorded pop bits and live acoustic verses were all well-made, but a bit repetitive and safe. While each song carried its own distinct sound, the individual tracks often felt too conservative.
Nonetheless, Varner often defied genre classification, using a pop-base for music that could be described at times as hip-hop, country, or even folk. She deliverd an impressive live performance that isn’t done justice by her pre-recorded works, and made for an enjoyable show.
In the end, one of the most striking pieces of the show was not Varner herself, but the crowd in attendance. It was substantially more diverse than the school as whole. Though it may bill itself as a diverse institution, the visible truth is that Middlebury is still overwhelmingly white. The crowd was small, and perhaps not as representative of Midd as many would purport, but it gave the show an inclusive feeling. One which seemed to say that everyone wanted to be there and was nearly as interested in what Varner had to say as they were in what she was singing.
In between songs, her messages about college and adulthood were well met, and she put a (perhaps undeservedly) positive spin on the environment we’re in now. She wryly remarked on what might happen when we enter the world, and then quickly added something to the effect of “well, you’re sort of already in the world.”
Perhaps we are. But our existence within a bubble of incredible privilege and physical isolation is a certainty. For better or worse, this reality shapes and influences all of our four years here.
When Varner spoke about going out into the world to a group of people who can sometimes feel estranged from it or about following passion at a school that constantly sends us emails about careers in finance, she became a valuable reminder of just what possible at Midd, and how we might use what we find here to go forward in the world.
This is why the booking of Varner was such an excellent choice on the Concert Board’s part. It seems that a lot of Midd’s value ought to come from the diversity of thought and experiences it offers, and some of that can get lost in what can feel like a homogenous campus. The atmosphere that Varner created and the mood and makeup of the crowd certainly fed the ideal of diversity.
As a member of the Concert Board pointed out, some students look for more of a “party vibe” from their concerts. This everpresent tension boiled over at the Noname concert as people who cared about the artist and lyricism were forced to contend with those who were determined to make it a rager. By bringing artists like Varner to campus, Middlebury may not be appeasing the latter group. Yet a strong woman of color like Varner, whose music is definitely, uniquely hers, was almost certainly more valuable in feeding hearts and artistic desires of our students.
(10/18/17 11:43pm)
Question: You have an electric guitar and electric banjo (but can only use one at a time), no percussion nor bass and a hauntingly talented vocalist. How do you create a memorable performance?
Tuesday night, Fawn, a morphine folk duo hailing from South Bend, Indiana, answered that question in the Gamut room. The group consists of vocalists Anne Ringwalt and multi-instrumentalist Will Johnson, and their answer is an eerie, quirky sound that is more than the sum of its parts.
I was very impressed with their opening bit, with repetitive electric guitar from Johnson and swelling vocals from Ringwalt, which was a contrast to the synths and sweet lyrics of the opening act (I won’t say much, but Middlebury’s own Hannah Habermann ’18 and Tevan Goldberg ’18 were also wonderful).
Throughout the act, the band seemed to be characterized by a very conscious ebb and flow. There was a sense of pace: when to emphasize the instrumentals, when to let the vocals crescendo, when to simply let the rhythmic guitar/banjo play its repetitive lick as the vocals progressed indistinctly through a series of slower, more meditative dips in the music. Rarely did the music accost with a wall of sound, which would be all too easy in such a cramped space, but rather the music and the vocals took their turns in the spotlight.
This sort of sound did, however, suffer from the inability to pull together all its acoustic pieces into satisfying climaxes, and neither the plaintive croons and haunting shouts, nor the twangy banjo and spaghetti western guitar licks could save this act from dipping into a bit of a repetitive template. All told, however, Fawn impressed me, and I would recommend any lovers of folk or indie to give them a listen.
Question: Can you put a number on the experience of being at a concert, on the human factor? Is there any value in even trying to do so? Can haunting swells and mournful lyricism be quantified in a single, solitary digit? Can you really score a live performance?
Answer: Yes. I can and I will. 7/10.
(10/11/17 10:56pm)
“Drive It Like It’s Stolen” is the new EP from hip-hop trio Injury Reserve, which consists of vocalists Stepa Groggs and Ritchie With a T and producer Parker Corey. The EP is the group’s third major project after their first two albums, 2015’s “Live From the Dentist Office” and 2016’s “Floss.”
While this project unfortunately does not continue in the tradition of oral-hygiene-based titles, it is the band’s most instrumentally and vocally inventive project so far. Unlike their earlier work, which was hallmarked by mid-2000s-esque piano hooks or trippy ballads, this EP, perhaps due to its decreased length, is packed full of inventive production that makes itself known – the beginning of the piece is full of in-your-face beats and in-your-face vocals to match. There is nothing soothing about the constant drips and banging drums of “See You Sweat,” nor will you find any comfort in the husky, slightly staccato rapping of Groggs and Ritchie, but the bluntness of the whole thing somehow works. Even as the work paces itself and eases down from its aggressive beginning, culminating in a wonderful stretch of slower tracks to close out the EP, the production and the vocals feel like they are fighting for your attention, resulting in an EP that is endlessly replayable.
The group does suffer from occasionally trying to mimic the sounds of other rappers – Ritchie can sound like he’s going for a bad Snoop impression, and Groggs oscillates between Pusha and Cyhi the Prince. Nonetheless, the EP offers several chances for these two to set themselves apart as vocalists, such as in “Boom (X3)” and “Colors.” Combine that with the production from Corey, endlessly inventive and always taking the listener to new, unexpected places, and you have what may be the strongest piece of work thus far from this sadly under-lauded trio.
Score: 8/10
Standout Tracks: “Boom (X3),” “North Pole, “Colors”