Turin Brakes Ether Song by Christinia Crippes
The problem with Turin Brakes’ new album, Ether Song, can best be summed up by the track ‘Self Help.’ Singer Ollie Knights belts out the line, ‘Remind yourself that you’re not just in it for the money’ like a sub-par Liam Gallagher, emphasizing the final part of the lyric, which just so happens to be a Supergrass record from a couple years back.
Turin Brakes’ second effort is derivative, but of already-derivative bands. The British duo doesn’t sound like the quality Britpop of the mid-1990s they sound like the mediocre redcoat music that has been released since the long gone hey-day of the Oasis-Blur feud.
The worst part of the record, however, is not that it is bad. It just does not stand out enough to be bad. Every song is reasonably listenable, and some of the songs are almost catchy. Almost. The music is mellow, like a weepy Travis instead of a power-pop Bis. Knights, though, attempts to sing like a combination of both Gallagher brothers, a duo that no mortal man can take on by himself.
Turin Brakes released their debut, The Optimist LP, in 2001 and have been making a buzz amongst Britpop fans ever since. Either Coldplay, as the resident popular-in-America British band, is not cutting it anymore, or Turin Brakes is paying music critics an absurd sum because Ether Song is not worth the hoopla. Looks like they need a little of their own ‘Self Help.’
Cave In Antenna by Joey Arak
The only thing that seemingly hasn’t changed about Cave In over the past few years is their loyalty to the Boston area, as evidenced by the pictures of the new Zakim Bunker Hill Bridge all over the cover and liner notes of the band’s major label debut, Antenna.
Back in the day specifically, way back in 1999 Cave In was Cave-In, an Allston-via-Metheun, indie/ prog-metal band that churned out the vicious Until Your Heart Stops. But the band started exploring a more commercially viable sound and turned off many diehard fans with the release of Jupiter, an ambitious album filled with Radiohead-like atmospheric rock that caused a major label bidding war.
Now Cave In are on RCA records and have released an album that picks up where Jupiter left off: the songs still feature swirling and cascading guitars, ambient noise and Stephen Brodsky’s soaring vocals, but they have trimmed the fat their 6-9 minute Jupiter epics are now 3-4 minute modern rock nuggets.
Meticulously recorded by Rick Costey, who was last seen twiddling knobs for Audioslave and Boxcar Racer, Antenna does offer some catchy tunes and pounding choruses. On the album’s opener ‘Stained Silver,’ the guitars follow Brodsky’s tempo-changing voice like it was leaving behind a juicy breadcrumb trail.
Songs like ‘Anchor’ and ‘Rubber and Glue’ also offer reasons why the mainstream might latch onto Cave In. They offer speedy, polished rock tracks that aren’t difficult to digest.
What is difficult to digest, though, is when Cave In slows the action down. The acoustic-led ‘Beatiful Son’ sounds like a folky Bends castaway, and the droney, aimless 9-minute centerpiece ‘Seafrost’ inexplicably has Brodsky sounding like he’s imitating the singer from Puddle of Mudd.
Cave In may be targeting a modern rock audience, but I never want to associate these Boston underground icons with a group that has the lyrics, ‘I like the way you smack my ass.’