Alt-Ctrl-Sleep Earth Lens Lakeshore Records Excuse the ridiculous band name, and don’t flinch at what likely seems a laborious 14-track, 54-minute runtime. Rather, let these texture-laced love songs and laments wash in like high tide. The Low La Tengo slow burner “Silence” drifts into distortion, while the “Claire de Louvre” backs Kings of Convenience-quiet harmonies with dub on a morphine drip. Throughout much of Earth Lens, April and Joe Diaco build quiet, steady wonders, anchored with hooks and accessories that service the legacy of Galaxie 500 well. Remember the advice about forgiving the runtime and the band handle? It only goes so far. For such a measured band, AltCtrl-Sleep occasionally comes up remarkably short on restraint. Touches of feedback, static and electronic pitter-patter seem contractual on some songs that could work better as skeletons. And whether excising the extra from an outro or an instrumental, Alt-Ctrl-Sleep favors the “Save” command a bit too much. Grayson Currin
American Aquarium Small Town Hymns Last chance records For a band whose existence these days is defined by the road, an album that reads like a Michelin guide to the heart is practically de rigueur. Unlike the dystopian landscapes of road classics like Springsteen’s Nebraska or Son Volt’s Trace – where succor lasts only as long as the wheels turn – singer B.J. Barham still
hopes for better times down the road. The usual alt-country tropes provide plenty of reasons for leaving, though, ranging from small-town boredom (“Reidsville”) and family baggage (“Brother Oh Brother”) to, of course, the ladies (every other song). Barham caught critical flak for the personal nature of last year’s Dances for the Lonely, but here it’s women in general who either ride along or drive his narrators out of town. It’s a more limited narrative palette than the above-mentioned classics, and is why these songs still read like Whiskeytown laments -- shuffling road meditations and surging country rock best played in the contemplative, moderately hammered late-night hours. JG Mellor
Timothy Seth Avett as Darling To Make The World Quiet/Killing The Headlamps/The Mourning, The Silver, The Bell Ramseur Records With six LPs, four EPs, and two live discs in 10 years, The Avett Brothers are on a Prince-ly pace for a band who just released their major label debut. To hold over the ‘Brothershood until their next release, their old label has re-released three Seth Avett solo discs recorded on an old Tascam cassette recorder and mixed in his kitchen. All three have their moments – The Mourning, The Silver, The Bell is most likely to appeal to Avett newbies. But one imagines these releases are for the fans anyway – and contain plenty of that wide-eyed sparkle and scrap that defined the earliest Avetts work. It’s certainly not for everyone, but diehards will probably cherish the chance to hear one of their favorites in his formative phase, even as eBay sellers and rare-record geeks bemoan the instantaneous
implosion of their back-catalog market. As it stands, both Killing the Headlamps and The Mourning, The Silver, The Bell work in a sort of Bon Iver-gone-bluegrass way, and deserve(d) (re-)release. Timothy C. Davis
Calculator Classic Acid Self-released All bands beg, borrow and steal from their influences; the best retain the authorial command to make those goods into something unique. So it’s not a stretch — or an insult — to call West Columbia, S.C., quartet Calculator first-rate thieves. Calculator’s sound is heavily indebted to The Pixies, recalling the Boston band’s reliance on loud-quiet-loud dynamics, laconic vocals, and Black Francis’ penchant for abstract, fever-dream lyrics. (Indeed, “Angel Answers” could be a lost Bossanova B-side with its stop-start dynamic and intertwined guitar lines, and “Exit Extinguisher” lifts the tunefully dissonant pre-chorus guitar breaks of “In Heaven” before a coda that’s eerily reminiscent of the chorus of “Tame.”) In the hands of a lesser band, such pilfering would be little more than highway robbery. Rather, it’s in the way that Calculator alchemizes The Pixies’ alt-rock aesthetic — adding doses of Spoon’s Southern swagger and The Dandy Warhols’ erudite detachment — that makes the still-young band stand out among the tropes of carbon-copy, cutand-paste indie-rock acts. Patrick Wall
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Ben Davis and the Jetts Charge It Up! Lovitt Records Ben Davis has been making visceral indie rock since the early 90s, with Sleepytime Trio, Bats & Mice and Milemarker before embarking on a post-millennial solo career. Along the way he’s demonstrated a remarkable gift for melding chewy post-punk guitar to memorable melodies. The guitars writhe, ring and fold in on themselves much like Jawbox, but the arrangements aren’t so tightly wound, allowing in enough light to illuminate his muscular melodies. The combination of wiry sinew and reverberating textures slowly insinuate themselves into your consciousness, making his albums growers. Charge It Up! is no exception. It’s not that there isn’t a measure of immediate allure, but like a trendy Manhattan nightclub, it takes time to gain full entry. Of note are the disco rhythm rumble “Robocoppin’,” the sinister throb, skronk guitar and female vocals of “Rincon Pio Sounds,” and the GBV-ish “Who Spilled Their Emo Dust.” Slowly entrancing, and soon enough unforgettable. Chris Parker
Dave Desmelik Onlooker Self-released Dave Desmelik’s world is “we” – “We don’t work,” “We’re not trying to get to/Some place we don’t want to,” “Why do we do the things that we do?” Listeners are lucky that Desmelik allows them in because his world affords pleasant escape. His sixth outing is cheerful Americana, full of
lovely dobro hooks and plucky mandolin, harmonica and banjo, piano and pump organ – most of it played by Desmelik, who also wrote and sang everything. We’re going somewhere with him, too, on opener “If It’s Good for You,” taking regional highways home, a soundtrack to watch the Carolina sky roll by. Even “Sad and Old” isn’t too downbeat, with its train whistle/harmonica strain and chugging guitar. WNCW listeners voted Onlooker their No. 9 favorite regional release last year, and it’s easy to hear why. While the station seems to have chosen “Who Says” as the single-to-play, listen for the tender “Why Would You Have Me.” Rebecca Sulock
Elonzo Extended Play Self-released “I was watching you play tonight/ Your rhythm steady, eyes stage right/Playing tobacco brown Gibson guitar,” Jeremy Davis sings at the start of “Lucinda” – as in Ms. Williams. So, yeah, when creating musical valentines, there can be a fine line between admirer and stalker. But on “Lucinda,” Davis and his Elonzo mates walk that line just fine, sitting comfortably on the non-crazed fan side while engaging in pedal steel-blessed gravel-road country music. The Rock Hill, S.C. quartet seems quite comfortable on the other three tunes here as well, albeit less single-minded when it comes to theme and sound. “Sunday Morning,” “Americana Blues,” and especially “Say Nothing Do Nothing” all sport an arresting blend of Right Now and Old School, with handclaps, keys, and hooks swaddled in burlap. Think orchestral pop songs escaping from an antique Philco radio. Think tobacco brown guitar at the center of a bright blue cottoncandy dream in a sweet old world. Rick Cornell