Austin Sound

Shocking news: on their debut album In And Out And Back Again, Woven Bones sound like they are listening to a lot of The Jesus & The Mary Chain. There, now that that’s out of the way, perhaps there’s a little time to discuss their excellent album - just act quickly on the discussion, because the entire thing clocks in at about twenty six minutes and feels more like fifteen with its breakneck pace.

The band careens from song to song so quickly and forcefully, never slowing down to even acknowledge that there are flowers, much less sniff them, that – especially upon first listen – the audience is left wondering what herd of animals just trampled them.

Sometimes one forgets that in the late 60s and early 70s, there weren’t a bunch of guys sitting around in garages and living rooms saying they wanted to be the next Led Zeppelin or Cream – because there was barely a Led Zeppelin or Cream. For a while there, your local record store probably wasn’t specifically a record store and the local garage bands were probably a bit more like the Beatles and the Stones still. Which all in all means that Prayer for Animals, and their gritty debut Swell, probably wouldn’t have quite existed then… even if it sounds like it definitely could, would, and should. There’s no shame in crafting your music in the image of some of the best; would anyone rather be in a band that merely wanted to be Styx?

The Mercers’ new release, Giant (Victim), marks the second consecutive solid seven song cycle in less than 12 months for one of Austin’s best kept secrets. Recorded at the same time as 2009’s Hovercraft, Giant was shrewdly kept under wraps for a few months as the band prepared for its release. Rather than force 14 songs onto one mixed up full length album, The Mercers appear to have wisely saved the 7 more mellow songs for Hovercraft’s subsequent follow-up EP. And, for the most part, this dual attack works pretty well.

The Mercers’ pop perfect blend of The Who, The Shins, and Guided By Voices continues on Giant. But while Hovercraft landed more towards The Who and Guided By Voices, Giant stomps firmly on The Shins end of the aforementioned spectrum.

Here’s something weird: The Happen-Ins aren’t doing anything remotely new or innovative on their self titled debut album, yet somehow they seem like a fun fresh breath of air. Maybe it’s because the album features instructions for “things to consider before, during, and after listening to this record” – and those things, in the end, will apparently and assuredly result in “palpitations, perspirations, and motivations to stomp the floor”. Maybe it’s because The Happen-Ins just sound like they’re having fun playing old school rock and roll. Or maybe it’s because, along with having a sense of humor, swagger, and melody, The Happen-Ins play the music your parents (or, shit, grandparents in some of your cases) might have loved, but they don’t sound worn out like the grooves on a dusty old Creedence record. Their debut affair practically bursts from the speakers, with exuberance that is all too often missing from their peers’ recordings.

On their debut album, The Bronze, Woodgrain does something good, possibly even very good. Exactly how to describe what that thing is, though, is nearly impossible. Lying somewhere between metal (this is a band that was chosen to open for The Sword on a half dozen or so tour dates) and a Brian Eno Moog-gasm, Woodgrain is relatively indescribable (other than maybe “repetitive” or “coma inducing” at times). There are times when “indescribable” means “horrible”, “awful” or “waste of sounds waves” – but not in the case of Woodgrain. The Bronze is a genuinely exciting and interesting album; it’s just hard to say what exactly is going on (perhaps the album art featuring a centaur astronaut carrying roses on the moon in front of a basketball hoop should have been an indicator).

If it takes more than a decade to release your debut album, calling it a greatest hits collection isn’t necessarily a misnomer, right? In the case of Gleeson’s debut, The Very Very Best of Gleeson, the wait was more like fifteen years and, thankfully, it wasn’t for naught. Fifteen years ago, power-pop wasn’t exactly topping the charts and it still isn’t, but that’s really of no concern for Ty Chandler’s brainchild. While Chandler may have been sitting on Gleeson’s tunes for years, his other labor of love – Almost There Records – was putting out a steady stream of some of Austin’s best power-pop in the interim. After all, this is a guy (and label) that has gone so far as to host Big Star, Cheap Trick, Mott The Hoople, the Who, and the Kinks Hoot Nights. What did you expect his band’s album to sound like? Something other than mostly ridiculously catchy power-pop with an Austin-fried edge? Get real.

Night One of the three pack of shows celebrating the release of Casual Victim Pile could not have gone off much better for curator Gerard Cosloy, Matador Records, and – most importantly – the five bands representing the Beerland-centric compilation. Sure, it might have been more reassuring to see their home turf packed with only familiar faces, but no one was complaining that many in the full house were hearing (and enjoying) the tunes for the first time. Blasting out five tight, blistering sets on a chilly evening, The Persimmons, The Distant Seconds, Kingdom of Suicide Lovers, Dikes of Holland and Follow That Bird generally did their fans, friends, and the Austin underground proud.

Is it too late to pick an album of the year for 2009? Or maybe is it too early to pick an album of the year for 2010? Logan, The Gary’s followup to their amazing debut EP Chub, was released digitally in late 2009, but on CD this month. Fortunately, the album is so good and so relentlessly compelling, it’ll be impossible to forget come well into next year.

Another stunning work of Minutemen-esque brevity and wit, Logan clocks in at just under a half an hour. The perfect mixture of Dave Norwood’s guttural yelps and Trey Pool’s metallic guitar twists, Logan sees the world of Chub and raises - perhaps all in.

Live Forever, The Deaf Ears debut album, is proof positive that sometimes when things fall apart, things can actually come together. Case in point, when Joel Mullins’ previous band Tammany Hall Machine – a band that garnered a decent amount of Austin buzz and a slew of nice slots with some great bands – began to disintegrate, Joel decided not to force his new batch of songs into the old format. Instead, he regrouped with producer Scott Oliphant on drums and decided to form a two-piece. Sure enough, with the addition of former THM bandmates Mick Southerland and Geoff Dupree, that two-piece morphed into The Deaf Ears quartet and a whole new way to create Mullins’ vision was realized.

Monument to No One’s self-titled debut features, at first glance, an interestingly out-of-place thank you: “The Pittsburgh Steelers”. That thank you screamed “Danger – or at least nu-metal – ahead!” After all, other than Kid Rock and other meat-rock of a similar ilk, what musician thanks a sports team? Maybe a baseball team, if you’re Yo La Tengo. But a football team? Seems like a fair warning for an upcoming 311 rip off album, right? Even all those guys and girls in all those hip Canadian rock collectives never thanked the Montreal Canadiens! Yet somehow, Monument to No One avoided driving headfirst into huge jock jam craters in the road and came up with nine surprisingly good first-try tracks.