The Field
Looping State Of Mind Kompakt
Truth in advertising
Axel Willner brought this all on himself. The Swedish loopster’s early singles and 2007 debut were so ineffably sublime, so where does he go from there? Commendably enough, his answer hasn’t been toward simple recursion (much as he adores it), but expansion: Album two broadened his original approach, and the inanely literalistic Looping State Of Mind magnifies that trend, offering seven mutations of his trademark sound, in a newly expansive array of tempos. Though, interestingly, there’s nothing quite as quick as his consistently zippy early work. So: “Is This Power” feels like a From Here We Go Sublime track pitched down and smeared, to somewhat nauseous effect; the misnamed “Arpeggiated Love” glides along harmlessly, while “Sweet Slow Baby” is utterly numbing. Yeah, there’s more going on: more live instrumentation, more vocals drifting in and out of the mix. It’s all so much gum in the works,
mussing Willner’s pearly, ultra-glide smoothness for the sake of some vague, psychedelic interest-added. And yet, the feeling remains. —K. Ross Hoffman
Future Islands
On The Water
ist/bassist William Cashion outdoes him in restraint, consistently leaving the spotlight open for Samuel T. Herring. While the singer’s Bowie-esque delivery might seem a little too sincere to souls raised on Har Mar Superstar, actually making lines like “the dancing bear, the bouncing ball” (“Grease”) seem heartfelt would be no mean feat in any decade. —Rod Smith
Thrill Jockey
The Jigsaw Seen
Electropop scholars chart a forward-facing course
The biggest difference between ’80s-informed music now and 10 years ago (remember electroclash?) is seriousness. Like labelmate Nicholas Bindeman (Tunnels), Future Islands care about as much about ironic distance as, say, My Morning Jacket. Though it reveals apparent influences ranging from Eyeless In Gaza to Simple Minds, the Baltimore trio’s nautically themed third album finds the band updating rather than simply recreating from the moment its opening seaside field recordings fade into the title track’s deeply textured synths. Electronics whiz Gerrit Welmers deploys a palette big enough to serve a dozen bands without ever getting heavy-handed. Guitar-
Winterland
Vibro-phonic
Like Saw’s Jigsaw, except actually compelling
“The orange and palm trees sway/There’s never been such a day in old L.A./But it’s December 24/And I’m longing to be up north.” Not since Darlene Love spoke those melancholy words in her Phil Spector-produced version of “White Christmas” almost 50 years ago has anyone so well expressed the unusual flavor of the Yuletide season in the land of eternal sunshine. And now the Jigsaw Seen, whose core members Dennis Davison and Jonathan Lea are 25-year veterans of swimming upstream in Tinseltown’s music
All Over But The Wibbling
Noel Gallagher’s up in the sky, learning to fly without Liam
I
t’s been two years since the battling Gallagher broth-
ers called an end to Oasis, their sprawling, brawling musical partnership that spawned seven consecutive (U.K.) numNoel Gallagher’s ber-one studio albums, worldwide sales of 70 million units and a High Flying Birds thousand dead-even fistfights. Given the very tangible gifts that Noel Gallagher’s Liam and Noel Gallagher brought to Oasis, there was a very real High Flying Birds danger that their split and division of labor would find them each Sour Mash/Mercury taking something away that the other desperately needed, from Noel’s songwriting and production genius to Liam’s charismatic presence at the front of the stage. Both Gallaghers reference the Walrusy/Peppery Beatles in their post-Oasis outings, Liam in Beady Eye and Noel in his High Flying Birds collective. On his solo debut, Noel shows off his acclaimed songwriting skills on the Kinks-like dancehall swing/’60s spy theme of “Soldier Boys,” the carnival/vaudeville pop of “The Death Of You And Me,” the anthemic church-ofrock hymn of “Stop The Clocks” and the horn-drenched, melancholic sunshine melodicism of “Dream On.” It’s all very appealing and completely listenable, if sometimes slightly overreliant on mid-tempo rhythms with occasional surges in passion and pacing, like the slow-burning, swaggering “The Wrong Beach” and the towering prog touches of “Everybody’s On The Run” and “Record Machine.” Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds will certainly tweak the pleasure centers of Oasis fans everywhere, but more than a few of them may find themselves with a subconscious yearning for a little unhinged brotherly argy bargy sprinkled judiciously throughout it all. —Brian Baker
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