Album Review: Iceage - You're Nothing

Iceage
You're Nothing
Rating: Woof Daddy

New Brigade, the debut album from Danish post-punk band Iceage, was a chilly 24 minute blast of scraping guitars, machine gun drums, sloganeering vocals, and a fully formed aesthetic that was much wiser than the band's young age would have indicated. It was such a perfect encapsulation of their sound it was difficult to imagine what they could possibly do for a follow up, rather than more of the same or completely altering their sound. With the follow up You're Nothing in hand, Iceage have not reinvented the wheel thankfully, and have not given us New Brigade 2, though it is really a more fine-tuned version, with interesting steps in new directions. It is still a concise set of tracks, barely making it over the 25 minute mark, but instead of using the bleak, industrial edged tones of New Brigade, the music tends to fall towards more traditional punk squalls, with more subtle post-punk accents to spice things up.

This go around the songs are tighter and the production is less cavernous, while lyrically the songs keep getting bleaker, the band's views on relationships being almost nihilistic. Kicking off with the feedback heavy fury of "Ecstacy," Iceage ratchet up the energy with singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt's voice going from a whisper to a scream in no time flat, screaming at the top of his lungs: "Pressure! Pressure! Pressure! Oh god no!"



"Coalition" blazes with an almost out of control fury, comparing a relationship to an alliance of convenience, falling apart under the weight of excess.



But even within the dense rush of guitars and drums, you can sense a restlessness with the band, not wanting to keep doing the same thing. There are subtle melodic touches throughout the record that are barely noticeable at first, and even experimentation with different instruments. "Awake"'s blitzkrieg attack of glass shard guitars is underscored by a almost imperceptible early R.E.M./Husker Du melodic core that pushes the song to new heights.



"Morals" is perhaps the most shocking track on You're Nothing, starting off like a boozy, piano ballad from Nick Cave, Rønnenfelt's voice surprisingly open and emotional but gathering strength as the guitars and drums take over. It is such a huge departure from their usual approach to songs that initially it sticks out like a sore thumb, but eventually becomes the heart and soul of the record.



Of course, Iceage are not stupid, they know their signature sound and provide more blistering proof that they are at the top of their game. From the dark and brooding "Burning Hand," brutal guitar assault of "In Haze," or the low end rumble of "Wounded Hearts," these tight, concise tracks never waste a moment getting their point across and exit perfectly. That is one complaint with the record is that is it so perfectly rendered it disappears all too quickly, but that just means you get to go back to the beginning and it hear it all over again.

New Brigade was such a bright spot in a pretty lackluster musical year that I feared in hindsight its reputation with me would be tarnished, but listening to it against You're Nothing pretty much erases any doubt I had. You're Nothing definitely raises the stakes for the band, as it shows them honing their sound but also taking it to new places I didn't think they would ever go. I can't believe it is only the beginning of February in 2013 but we already have the best sophomore release of the year as well as the best punk/post-punk album of the year. And inconceivably, we might have the best album of the year.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and piques one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.

The Men: Open Your Heart - Album Review

The Men
Open Your Heart
Rating: Woof Daddy

My close friends usually shake their heads at me because my musical taste is so broad that I generally like a little bit of everything. So generally, if someone hasn't heard of someone they ask me first, because 9 times out of 10 I have listened to it, or at least know of it. This unselectivity, if you will, usually creates chaos for me at music festivals, because I end up wanting to see almost everything. I think this fractured way I listen to music stems from growing up in a city that had no real alternative music channel, so I grew up on 70s and 80s pop music. It wasn't until going with my parents to UGA football games that I began getting exposed to more adventurous music played by the local college radio stations; which was a dense mix of new wave, post-punk, hardcore, dream pop, shoegaze, and a thousand other indie genres. So, through all this immersion, I wound up with the bizarrely eclectic musical taste I now have. The reason for this long-winded ramble is that when I tell people to listen to The Men, I get a lot of weird stares, as if this band falls so far outside my zone to be almost alien. The Men are loud, obnoxious, and bratty alt-rock that somehow grabs onto several different genres and makes it their own. And I really get into them. I suppose it's their energy and reckless abandon when they play; their music just speaks to me for some reason. Perhaps it pulls me back to those impressionable days when I was really discovering new music all the time, and it just makes me smile.

Their last album Leave Home didn't find its way onto my playlists until well after its release, preventing it from making it into my top albums of the year, which was a shame. Their hardcore take on shoegaze left me pretty breathless, and I couldn't wait to hear more from them. What is different about Open Your Heart is not so much that the sound is different, or even the same for that matter. It is definitely a record from The Men, but there seems to be something directing their unhinged guitar sound, keeping it just on the rails through many a hair pin turn. Just when you think they are heading for a pileup, they right everything again, and head off in a new direction. A criticism of The Men, and this record in particular, is that their influences are worn too obviously on their sleeves, and while you can easy spot their influences, it is blended through their own unique filter.

From the opening chords of "Turn It Around," you know The Men aim to bring big, brash guitars back to the forefront. Mark Perro's vocals recall Dave Grohl's raspy croon as the band charges through the song, the drums almost spilling over in the rush.



Open Your Heart is not afraid to turn up the volume and well, throw a party. Recalling at times everything from SST records acts like Minutemen, Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., and Husker Du, the guitars are mainly turned up loud and brash. From the dense push of "Please Don't Go Away,"



the buzzy, hardcore squall of "Cube,"



and the driving title track,



The Men get almost everything right. There is such amazing energy here, and a great melodic sense that is never overshadowed by the sheer amounts of noise.
But Open Your Heart is anything but one note; there are many diversions and side routes taken. The droning, Spacemen 3-esque haze of "Presence"



and "Country Song,"



to the Krautrock influence heard in "Oscillation," which ditches minimalism for outright rock,



the sweet, alt-country feel of "Candy," which is their most mainstream sounding track,



shows a stylistic diversity that is awe inspiring.

Open Your Heart is one of those rare albums that really sends me back to a wonderful time in my life, yet is no mere nostalgia trip, and is certainly not mere aping of their influences. There is genuine care and love here for making great music, and making fun music. If this is only the tip of the iceberg from these guys, I am thrilled to see where they take us next.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.