Showing posts with label joel hartse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joel hartse. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

my synthar blurb

as usual, my latest image update blurb, a review of synthar's evenings and weekends, is kind of a gamble.

i'll explain the gambling later, but in the meantime, here it is:

Synthar: Evenings and Weekends

SyntharIn this season of last caucuses and primaries, with the names of presidential candidates on our tongues and a foretaste of change on our lips, the pop-indie band Synthar has come out with just the album to match that extra kick in your step—or that worried furrow of brow—that may accompany this historic time. Synthar’s debut album, Evenings and Weekends,is a genuine, synthesized consideration of change and transformation. Its sound lies somewhere between electronica and folk—as the Jackson Free Press says, Synthar has taken “synth-pop into singer-songwriter territory.” Synthar is an internet band: its members—spread around the world from Shaoxing, China, to Jackson, Mississippi and from New York, New York, to Stanford, California—huddled their laptops together to create an irresistibly catchy mix of Moogs, vocoders, guitars, and sad, understated vocals. The tracks of Evenings and Weekends range from themes of changes in landscape—“Hurricanes” is lead singer Johnny Bertram’s firsthand response to Katrina and Rita—to the hiccups and tragedies of relational change in “My Heart Is a Beating Drum,” “Stabbed by an Unseen Blade,” and, most traumatically, “The Phone Call.” Synthar also asks us to question how our dollars and cents impact the world. In “The Robots Among Us” they warn that “in the land of milk and honey / where we walk the thin line between / what we need and greed” there are “robots among us” who “don’t understand the warmth of human touch”—and the song builds to a chilling climax when the robots join in the chorus. But most extraordinary is Synthar’s uncanny juxtaposition of generally dark, meaningful themes with spritely, upbeat melodies. The combination of thoughtful lyrics with playful synthesizing and vocal harmonies results in moments of happy-pop-bliss, making Evenings and Weekends an album that is not just smart, but indeed, as they sing in one of their happier tracks, gives you “the urge to dance… dance the morning away / and when the day finally turns into afternoon / you’ll flip the record and dance to new tunes!” Because Synthar is an independent band in the truest sense, the best way to buy Evenings and Weekends is directly from them on their website (ours even came with a handwritten “thanks.”) Plus, the handsome CD and packaging are individually screen printed by hand.

For more, visit Synthar.com. You can also listen to a few tracks on Synthar’s Myspace page.


OK, how is this a gamble? it's not that i'm hesitant to recommend the album; evenings and weekends is seriously really good. it may even be my favorite new album of 2007.

no, it's because i write these reviews for an arts journal that focuses specifically on work that somehow engages faith. therefore, i always feel challenged to center my thoughts on some theme or idea that is relevant to the image vision--faith, art, mystery.

sometimes that's a breeze--the culturally savvy christian, for instance--but often it's a stretch. it's not that i walk the plank of clear, accurate critique into the surging waters of creative interpretation, but that i sometimes have to dive beyond the patent responses of other reviewers. i have to lay all of my cards down on the table and say, "you know, i haven't heard anyone else say this, but the road sure strikes me as an incarnation story," (yikes!) and that's a scary place to be.

so here's where things get dicey with my evenings and weekends review. every other e&w review explores the synthar sound. they reference bands i've never heard of. they describe how andrew, johnny, matt, and joel have built a bridge between new wave 70s (?) and synth pop. occasionally a reviewer mentions synthar's socially conscious lyrics, but the only reviewer to mention subject matter says that he was initially turned off by the "futuristic, sci-fi themes."

(futuristic, sci-fi themes? as far as i can tell, only one song, "the robots among us," taps the sci-fi genre, and as i suggest in my blurb, it does so in a satirical, now-focused way.)

the problem is, i'm no music critic. i can confidently rank e&w among my top three 2007 albums because i probably only listened to three 2007 albums. and so my only chance of saying something profound and worthwhile about a band is to listen to those words, those strange syllabic formations that some listeners may deem a musical afterthought. and those words tell me that change is in the air. so when i say that my blurbs are a gamble, i really mean that i hope the synthar fellows won't be surprised to learn that their tracks are about change. i hope a few dozen readers will buy the album, nod their head--in time to the beat, of course--and hear the change.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

2006 film list

joel hartse has a book review in the latest issue of paste. i hardly ever read paste, but i (am under the impression that i) respect their eclectic, thoughtful arts perspective--that and the free cds that they include with each issue. anyway, i wandered from joel's blog to the paste website, but i couldn't find his book review. instead i found paste's top 40 films of 2006:

1. Half Nelson
2. Little Miss Sunshine
3. Iraq In Fragments
4. L'Enfant
5. The Departed
6. Volver
7. Three Times
8. The Queen
9. The Last King of Scotland
10. Borat
11. Old Joy
12. When the Levees Broke
13. Pan's Labyrinth
14. A Scanner Darkly
15. A Prairie Home Companion
16. The Death of Mr. Lazarescu
17. The Science of Sleep
18. An Inconvenient Truth
19. Mutual Appreciation
20. Thank You For Smoking
21. Babel
22. Brick
23. The War Tapes
24. Wordplay
25. Stranger Than Fiction
26. Requiem
27. Factotum
28. The Proposition
29. United 93
30. For Your Consideration
31. Clean
32. Manderlay
33. Fast Food Nation
34. Dave Chappelle's Block Party
35. Marie Antoinette
36. Casino Royale
37. Tristram Shandy
38. Be With Me
39. Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple
40. The Secret Life of Words

blue = movies that i've already seen
red = movies that i already planned to see before i discovered this list

what do you think of their list? i'd remove #15 and consider removing #22 and #25. i'd also consider adding the three burials of melquiades estrada, blood diamond, and apocalypto to the bottom of the list.

andrew david "the cliffs from which we did not jump" somewhere near banff, canada.

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

on the road: figure eight [1.0]

this january i unveiled a series of new features to the 17 point scale. one of these ideas was a segment called 'on the road reviews.' i explained that:

these posts will hopefully bear the fruit of my most dangerous new idea (and perhaps my sole idea) concerning that i-5 stretch of verdant wasteland between seattle and portland. the recipe for my new idea is really quite simple; in fact, it only takes a few key ingredients: one or more full length music albums, a device with which to play said cds, a pen, and a post-it note pad. the stickies that survive the ride shall then serve as the song-by-song foundation for my 'on the road reviews.' as an aside, i suddenly (as in a few minutes ago) became intensly interested in origins. that is, where did this idea come from? (i don't know). why did i choose this title? (to begin, i did not intend hurtle my way into the company of jack kerouac
or willy nelson. in fact, having never finished 'on the road' or listened to the verses of 'on the road again,' i can't even claim an artistic birthright to their sense of these words, so there is no connection. none. i liked the aliteration; that's it).

joel's blog and an occasional article in paste magazine is about my only exposure to the world of legitimate music reviews. still, from what i've seen, my vision of a track-by-track album analysis seems rather unique. this surprises me. maybe my method is overkill, perhaps it's too unpolished, but the overall effect seems like an interesting blend of analysis and subjectivity.

in any case, despite all the hoopla that surrounded my initial announcement of on the road reviews, it's been almost six months and i have yet to post a single on the road review. frankly, i'm a little hesitant to embark upon this path. mostly i'm afraid that it will prove too exhaustive and uninteresting for readers that lack the album that happens to be my flavor of the day. and, unfortunately, i obviously can't post links to the songs that i discuss. also, these thoughts are scribbled on little scraps of paper as i drive from portland to seattle: they tend to be rather scattered. thus, i'm open to feedback. here's a sample of how an on the road review might read:

I.
figure eight by elliot smith


1. 'you're just somebody that i used to know.' the chorus says it all. an implicit indictment of the 'you.' the song attacks her but does so oh so pleasantly. still, at first listen, the song is blessedly ambiguous. we can't quite swallow what elliot's preaching; we only half believe that she's really 'just somebody' that he used to know...

2. 'something's happening. don't speak to soon...son of sam?' i like the piano. i like the phrase 'acting under orders from above...you fall down.' i don't know what the song is saying, but i like the succession of parallel-looking words like 'under' and 'order.' moreover, this line seems like a microcosm for the album: to some degree, his words take us down (under) and then up (above) and then down again (down).

8. "stay with me / hanging around at the lost and found...don't go home, angelina...i'm alone, most of the time / but that's okay..." there's a constant sense of 'it seems this way.' nothing is concrete. also, the song (and album) seems to shift places between happiness and sadness, companionship and solitude, staying or leaving. the main lyric is somehow ironic. and the song has a weird unconnected 30 second instrumental postlude.

10. another indictment of a girl: "it's all about taking the easy way out for you i suppose..." elliot smith seems pretty good at conveying a bitter yet seemingly logical analysis of his ex's. he paints a familiar picture (i.e., as someone with ex's, his lyrics and tone resonate with me) that somehow manages to remain uncliche.

more? stop this insanity?

andrew david 'free advertising' yelapa, mexico.