Clap Your Hands Say Yeah: Some Loud Thunder, Wichita
Cease the clapping, cross the arms and brace yourself for the slump. Abandoning the upbeat, dancey formula of the band’s 2005 debut, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s latest album, Some Loud Thunder, stumbles in the shadow of its predecessor. To be clear, Thunder does not falter simply because it deviates from the band’s original sound. Rather, in attempting to slow down the pace and flesh out a darker mood, Clap Your Hand’s efforts feel sluggish and ultimately slip into mediocrity.
In all fairness, certain adjustments work well. Fans will find refuge in the first two tracks, “Some Loud Thunder” and “Emily Jean Stock,” which fuse the band’s catchy melodies and sing-songy harmonies with newfound percussive distortion. The rest of the album, however, fails to find a niche. Promisingly-titled “Satan Said Dance,” remains an anti-climatic letdown despite the tease of sporadic electronic sprees, hypnotic bass and a chorus that demands to be repeated out-loud. By the same token, the album’s closer, “Five Easy Pieces,” feels unwarrantedly indulgent, featuring nearly seven minutes of yelps, accordion, harmonica and guitar-work that go absolutely nowhere.
The true litmus test of the album, however, hinges upon personal preference regarding Alec Ounsworth’s infamous vocals. Amongst the infectious music of the band’s debut, Ounsworth’s David Byne-esque singing is largely tolerable even for those who find it distracting. However, given the slower, somewhat deflated nature of the follow-up, skeptics must stomach Ounsworth’s nasal work sans melodic anesthesia (including the acoustic number, “Arm & Hammer”). For Ounsworth enthusiasts, however, the yelps will enhance some of the slower tracks, especially “Love Song No. 9” and “Yankee Go Home,” giving an interesting twist to songs that would otherwise feel like filler.
But in the end, Some Loud Thunder is a weak follow-up.
—Dan Cook
Menomena: Friend and Foe, Barsuk
With their third album, Friend and Foe, Portland indie rock trio Menomena is looking to shake their reputation as nerdy gear heads. It doesn’t help that the band itself wrote the computer software that made its phenomenal debut, 2004’s I Am The Fun Blame Monster, possible. The program allowed the band to loop, sample, and edit their own improvisatory sessions, resulting in an album that bridged the gaps between rock, glitch hip-hop and free jazz. Drum sequences and guitar lines were packed so tight that the technical achievement and innovation of the music often overshadowed the song writing. (https://romantichoneymoonisland.com) The follow-up, last year’s less-than-interesting Under an Hour, focused entirely on the experimental, instrumental side of the music.
Friend and Foe goes in the other direction. The album is still a technical feat, and it’s hard to imagine how the band is going to pull off half of these songs live, but the focus has shifted. All twelve tracks are actual songs, and quite good ones at that. The band might not have reverted to verse-chorus-verse format, but the manic creativity of the first two records has been curtailed to let the lyrics and melodies come to the fore.
Songs like “Ghostship” and the heartfelt “Rotten Hell” could almost be late period Blur, just with a killer rhythm section. Irresistible opening track “Muscle ‘n Flo” brings to mind the weirder, better moments of Modest Mouse, while the crashing drums, gorgeous guitar lines, and over-earnest lyrics of lead single “Wet and Rusting” may well be the sound of indie rock to come.
Lead songwriter Brent Knopf, who had few impressive moments on the first two records, is given time to shine here. His lyrics can be a bit simple, and some of the imagery is heavy-handed, but his frail tenor and intense charm carry the missteps. Luckily for us, there aren’t many to be found here.
—P.S. Hepburn
