Austin Sound

Marathon opens with the sound of a passing train, the shuffle of wind and brakes and steel on steel as the whistle cedes to a plaintive piano. What stands out in that opening sound is just how completely ordinary the train recording in – there is nothing contrived in it, no whistle fading off in the distance or steel guitar accenting the screech to a halt. It comes across as just a simple field recording - mundane even - as we stand witness to its movement, consumed in the inevitable effort of projecting onto it our own meanings, and whatever dynamic inertia that the train may represent becomes oppressed under a static contemplation. And that seems to be where Darden Smith finds himself with Marathon, overwhelmed and maybe even lost in that west Texas expanse. As he declares in “75 Miles of Nothing”, “The Truth is a one night stand blowing like a grain of sand, make whatever you want it to be, when you’re staring at 75 Miles of nothin’, there’s nothing to do, when you’re staring at 75 miles of nothin’, nothin’ but you.”

James Hyland has been bouncing around country music’s lesser-known echelon for over a decade, most notably with the South Austin Jug Band, writing modestly good tunes that fall pleasantly somewhere between alt-country and folk rock. On his debut solo effort with his band the Joint Chiefs, Hyland’s uncanny ability to produce soft-spoken, well-rounded songs is ever apparent. Celestial Navigation is a glimpse at the modern day troubadour, road-weary and broken-hearted, making his way across America with a cache of delicate and delightful country rock.

It’s difficult to decipher exactly what Agent Ribbons wants to be. Recently transplanted to Austin via Sacramento, the trio’s sophomore album ranges broadly in sound and ambition, and while individually the tunes are deployed with both an enchanting and edgy aplomb, as a whole the LP feels somewhat at odds with itself. There’s gritty garage riffs, swooning ballads, and an array of musical stylings that the female troupe manages to brush through in under 40 minutes, all wrapped in a kind of gypsy atmosphere that bobs and weaves to various degrees throughout. But that conflicting sound may also be taken as appropriate and intentional, as Chateau Crone could be understood as an exposition on an increasingly developing madness, a kind of musical take on “The Yellow Wallpaper” or the more directly cited “Grey Gardens.” From the emphatic opening of “I’m Alright” through to the closing carnivalesque yelp and swirl of “Wood, Lead, Rubber,” there is an overall progression into a hideous ecstasy of abandon.

“There’s too many artists, too much hype and not enough genius.”

Those lines are taken from the bridge of the opening track on The Black and White Years’ latest release Patterns, and it seems to quantify every notion that contemporary skeptics have about today’s musical climate. Bands get hyped and they fizzle out after a descent debut only to end up swallowing Soco-lime shots at the end of the bar in the Brooklyn Bowl like Neon Indian is probably doing right now. (Just kidding NI, I love you.) The odds of success in today’s indie monsoon are bleak (is anyone really expecting a second great album out of Surfer Blood?) which is why this reviewer finds it strange that Scott Butler, lead “Year”, writer and vocalist, preludes Patterns with such a disclaimer. A jittery confidence can only get you so far in the world of 80’s inspired indie rock, and if Patterns‘ obtuse and deep synth-laden exterior didn’t gleam with such a shiny, well-produced veneer, I doubt Butler would have sounded so bold only a couple of minutes into the band’s second LP.

That Hard Proof – formerly and/or still alternately known as Hardproof Afrobeat – exists, much less released an album, is simply amazing. Consider it: in Austin, most bands with just three or four members probably average single digit gigs for the duration of their careers (if you will). Schedules, lives, outside interests, personal and musical differences — all common and valid reasons for promising bands to splinter. So, what were the odds of a band of nine (credited!) musicians sticking around long enough to record an album of fifteen original funky afrobeat tunes? These guys play in bands as wide ranging as The Calm Blue Sea, the Bruce James Soultet and 100 Flowers and as well traveled as Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears, yet they somehow found time for Hard Proof. Beyond amazing.

Brian Eno is believed to have once said that “”Only five thousand people ever bought a Velvet Underground album, but every single one of them started a band.” The same sentiment might one day apply for Austin’s The Weird Weeds as well — except that they make their listeners want to make loose concept albums based around harmonious open-field vocals, and indie-prog instrumentals.

Upon a first listen, Help Me Name Melody, the fourth LP from the Weird Weeds and second for local imprint Autobus, continues on in the same way their previous albums played (2008’s I Miss This, and 2006’s Weird Feelings) — polite jam rock that resonates somewhere near the warm fuzzy center Olivia Tremor Control managed to find among the hearts of critics. The Weird Weeds are undecided.

It’s that time of year again, time to unleash the Fun Fun Fun! For us, that means the means the Fun Fun Fun Fest Live Blog, keepin’ it real like it’s 1998 up in here. Let’s face it, though, for something as awesome as the F3 Fest, we just can’t do it justice in 140 characters and some twitpics, so we’ll be out at Waterloo Park this weekend bringing you awesome pics and quick reviews of the action as it goes down. And what a weekend it promises to be! We were bummed that Devo had to cancel their headlining spot, but Transmission pulled a nice one by slipping in the Descendents in their stead. And the rest of the lineup is, in our opinion, their best yet as the Fest celebrates its 5th year. The weather looks like it’s going to be great, even if a little chilly in the evening (layer up kids!), but if you can’t make it down, just stay tuned here to see what all your missing. Or if your one of those folks checking your phone during the show, we can show you what you’re missing in front of you! Check out the schedule for the action here, and let’s have some Fun Fun Fun Fun!

Fun Fun Fun Fest 2010 Live Blog

The Black’s second album, Sun In The Day Moon At Night, breathes cool. It exudes it. Blasts it like a runaway air conditioner. Their debut – 2005’s Tanglewood – was a solid romping album that showed glimpses of this seminal coolness, but never came even close to what this long awaited followup accomplishes. Ten songs that sound like Bob Dylan and Jimmy Reed via Carl Perkins and The Stones. A band photo showing four unassuming guys, slouching like the Paul Butterfield Blues Band in black suits. The vintage Ampeg. It’s all there; Cool.

If the past few years of Austin music have been characterized by a resurgence of psych and garage sounds, then Rayon Beach sits at the perfect conjunction of the two. The trio’s debut EP, The Memory Teeth, was released on vinyl earlier this year by HoZac Records, and offered up a six song shot of trippy, gritty rock that nods to the 13th Floor Elevators while plowing into the fold of contemporary bands like Woven Bones. At times melodically delirious, and at others forcefully blunt in their garage trauma, Rayon Beach taps something primal and pulsing. You can catch them live this Thursday, November 4, for the Austinist’s free Fun Fun Fun Fest pre-party at the Mohawk with their latest installment of Local Music is Sexy, also featuring a heady lineup of TV Torso, Sally Crewe & the Sudden Moves, Watch Out For Rockets, Markov, and Hundred Visions on the outside stage with Rayon Beach, while Bill Baird, Weird Weeds, Sleep Good, Botany, Mutual Benefit, Dana Falconberry, and Amasa Ghana hold down the inside.

Thax Douglas, Austin’s notorious rock poet who has introduced pretty much every band EVER, proclaimed Megafauna “one of the best bands on the planet.” Pretty high praise considering the man has shared stages with every band from Daniel Johnston to Destroyer. Perhaps he decided to stake his claim after hearing the opening tracks from Megafauna’s much-overdue debut CD, Larger Than Human. Touring at least as much — if not more — than they record, Megafauna has built a reputation on their fusion of delicate pop idioms and their reverent love for metal pastiche. Falling somewhere between the anxious enjambed rhythms of Deerhoof, and the siren-like airy vocals of English shoegazers My Bloody Valentine, Megafauna have a rounded sound that is hypnotic while still retaining a lot of physicality. The preliminary measures of solo drum in “Hug From a Robot”, the opening track, seem to say that this is an album with considerable mass behind it—and it intends to move.