Tribute albums are almost always ill-advised. Every musician feels passionate about the artists who served as their inspiration but the art of the cover song remains an elusive, enigmatic venture for all but the most daring and insightful of interpreters. The sheer preponderance of bad cover versions (and bad cover records) serves as a solemn reminder of the pitfalls associated with taking on the work of artists more successful than oneself, yet this stinking heap of attempted homage never seems to act as a deterrent.

There are two main ways to go wrong when paying tribute to someone else’s recordings, both of which happen to be anitpodal strains of the same thought. The first path to failure is playing things too close to the vest, attempting to stage a note-by-note recreation of the original performance. Efforts such as these feel bland, uninspired, and most critically, they pale in comparison to the glory of the more renowned version. However, the road to tribute hell is also paved with musicians who seek to stage majestic reinterpretations of the artist’s original vision. In their effort to render the song in an entirely new light, cover artists often miss seizing upon the essence of what made the song so nuanced and appealing the first time around.

Read the rest of this entry »

Swedish indie-pop duo Club 8 may have run out of surprises a few records back, but few groups can match Johan Angergård and Karolina Komstedt when it comes to consistently producing thoroughly beautiful, immaculately crafted albums. The Boy Who Couldn’t Stop Dreaming, their sixth album in just shy of a decade, follows the pair’s familiar footsteps through twelve tracks of gentle, melancholy guitars and Komstedt’s stunningly recherché vocals. If not much has changed since 2003’s Strangely Beautiful, no one is the worse for it; to squander such a reliably magnificent approach for the sake of experimentation would be a sin.

Read the rest of this entry »

Jens Lekman doesn’t want you to love his music so much as he wants you to fall in love with him.

For most songwriters, this would be an outright disaster or at the very least a dealbreaker… but somehow, against all odds, Lekman is always able to muster the earnestness required to pull it off. The truth is that loving his music–and there is a lot to love–and loving Lekman is one and the same.

Read the rest of this entry »

Fluctuating between boisterous alt-country compositions and the occasional plaintive indie pop tune, Angie Heaton and her backing band the Gentle Tamers construct a lovelorn world where folks convene at the end of dusty desert roads to share drinks and stories. From its first strains, The Rumor Mill feels like a conversation between friends at an old haunt, intimate and familiar.

On their border town rendition of Trembling Blue Stars’ “Sometimes I Still Feel the Bruise,” one can almost taste the arid southwestern air nipping at a throat gone dry. The spaciousness of the arrangement is mirrored on “Heaven’s State Line,” an almost elegiac ballad which tugs on heartstrings with its pedal steel weeping, and “Next Year’s Garden,” a more uptempo but equally restrained number. All of these tracks exude a touching fragility as well as a simplicity that belies a carefully articulated approach. The beautiful “Prayer for You” fits this mold as well, with an earnest procession of vivid lyricism and a tasteful musical backdrop. These tracks serve as a counterpoint to most of the other songs collected on The Rumor Mill, which frequently tends toward a twangy rambunctiousness.

Read the rest of this entry »

With Plume Delivery, their debut EP released last summer, Chicago’s The 1900s took a successful first stab at recording together as a group with a set of ’60s inspired indie pop. The band went into the studio for those sessions without ever having played a live show together, something the attentive listener may have gleaned from a close reading; certain songs felt a little too spacious, devoid of the casual interplay that stems from performing together week after week. Despite these occasionally underdeveloped moments, Plume Delivery illustrated the 1900s’ command of the sweetly psychedelic conventions revitalized in recent years by the likes of The Ladybug Transistor and the Green Pajamas.

Cold & Kind captures the septet after a solid year as a rising act in the Midwest and reflects an elevated level of comfort and a seductive musicality. With vocal duties split between four singers, the harmonies are painted with big, drippy brushstrokes and to great effect, as on the title track. Musically, The 1900s are still unapologetic revivalists, but as is the case with acts like Belle and Sebastian, The 1900s know how to cherrypick elements to their advantage. “City Water” is a dust-shaking shuffle, Cat Stevens gone pastoral, while “When I Say Go” is a feisty, Feist-y, piano propelled ’70s soft rock lollipop that is difficult to resist.

“Two Ways” has a bit of the Stones in its boot stomping, head shaking groove, although The 1900s don’t sound likely to search out a fight anytime soon. The obliquely titled “Acutiplantar Dude” channels Sloan (another band notorious for flawlessly reworking bygone sounds) with its hard to shake Byrdsian guitar figures and end refrains of “If I died I would live again.” On the same track, the band wonders “why would someone steal my radio,” which turns out to be a great metaphor for Cold & Kind at large. The answer is that hearing those familiar strains reinterpreted and birthed into something new can prove extremely fulfilling if it’s done right. This record is the sound of The 1900s stealing “the radio,” replacing it with something rediscovered and reinvented.

While there are a couple clunkers here–”Supernatural,” for instance, is too slow and too long by about three minutes–there is also firm proof that The 1900s have hashed out a specific, pleasing vision that plays to their collective strengths. Somewhere more toward the ’70s end of the dial than most of their counterparts, Cold & Kind finds a niche that is comfortable not only because the sounds are familiar, but also because the band handles their craft so gracefully. It’s a sleeper record from a band that is likely to fly under the summer radar and I’ll be content to keep it our secret for as long as we can.

The 1900s’ Cold & Kind will be released this fall on Parasol Records. Click here to download “When I Say Go” [MP3]