Miami Music Blog

​Unmitigated cool never goes outta style. Ever. Especially when said cool comes from one of the originators. See then it's something at once insidious and divine, a thing in and of itself, unexplainable, indefinable and blessed beyond belief.

That kinda cool also tends to be highly emulated. And no one was perhaps more emulated throughout the Swingin' '60s than a dame named Ronnie Spector, front chick of The Ronettes. The beehives, the tight skirts, the black slashes of heavy eyeliner, all spoke bad girl in a time when there really wasn't such a thing. And Ronnie's gang set the stage for all the good female trouble to come.

After Ronnie hooked up and marryied Phil Spector back in '63, she and the Ronettes had a run of Top 40 hits which included "Be My Baby" and "Baby, I Love You," as well as a slate of Christmas classics that still get played to this day. But by the end of the decade their star had faded and Phil had pretty much lost his mind.

Check Crossfade on Wednesdays from now on for a quick survey of interesting recent national releases.

​Chuck Prophet
Let Freedom Ring (Yep Roc)

You've got to hand it to Chuck Prophet. While the rest of the world  was panicking about the swine flu outbreak, the San Francisco-based songwriter was holed up in a sound studio in Mexico City, recording what ranks as the most staggering rock record of 2009. From the blistering opening chords of "Sonny Liston's Blues" to the plaintive refrain of "Leave the Window Open," Prophet has produced a suite of songs whose exuberance will call to mind not just the mid-'70s heyday of the Stones, but also vintage Cheap Trick.

Prophet's voice is pure Southern California drawl, and his Stratocaster seems never to have met a lick it couldn't shred. But what stands out here is Prophet's ability to survey the moral landscape of America, as the nation faces up to the brutal economic hangover of the go-go Bush years. "Let there be markets, let them run wild," he sings, on the rousing title track, "as the sisters of mercy just laugh/All the lost brothers can drink themselves blind/While good fortune breaks hard work in half." Not even the shimmering chorus can blunt the sting of that sort of truth. What's most remarkable about this album is that Prophet has told the ugly truth about our imperial ills and made it impossible for us not to sing along. -- Steve Almond


​Monotonix
Where Were You When it Happened (Drag City)

Last year, Monotonix were just a bunch of long-haired Israelis playing shows that seemed to have people on the blogosphere talking that these guys might indeed be the "best band on the plane." Then they put out an EP on the venerable Drag City Records, and all of a sudden, everybody knew who they were. Now, after a touring schedule that would make Black Flag's head spin, they put fourth eight songs on their first LP, Where Were You Last Night, that all reek of Jesus Lizard worship. This is Maybe one of the dirtiest albums of the year. -- Jason Diamond

​Sarah Jacob
Damask
(Reppertoire)

According to the Merriam-Webster, Damask is a firm lustrous fabric make with flat patterns in a satin weave on a plain-woven ground on jacquard looms. After listening through Miami's own Sarah Jacob's Damask, I can say the title is fitting. It's filled with flat patterns, plain-woven lyrics, and a puzzling propensity to crowbar those lyrics into schizophrenic musical arrangements.

Damask's opening line on "Deprivation" perfectly describes my time with the album. "You came on ever so quickly. You filled me with expectations, but only briefly." The opening track "Prelude" is a sparse and beautiful piano and violin arrangement that lasts 31 seconds. "Dare I," substitutes keyboards for pianos and begins to fall apart a few moments later. Jacob's singing is beautiful at times, especially when she goes from a raspy whisper to a full on belting out of her lyrics. But she gets a sort of beat poet vibe and stops singing mid line to speak certain words before suddenly breaking back into singing. It makes for an uneven experience.

​Miami Bass Warriors
Miami Bass Warriors 12"
(Palm Tree Snuff/¿Que Pasa M.I.A.?)

You ever stand around and realize that you are completely surrounded by fucking children? Yeah, it happens... that's how old age dawns upon you and it don't matter how cool and with it your little record collection is, you'll be hard-pressed to explain to the "kids" what it is all about. So, realizing my worth as narrator here, let's see what the Miami Bass Warriors (MBW) do: other than make me out to be the square bald guy with whiskey breath bullshit on the corner. Whatever, see if I care, see if I give a shit, cuz I rode that jitney whilst Taylor Dane blasted and Power 96 was the epitome of cool.

​Shawn Snyder

Stripmall Troubadour (Live at the Moose)

www.shawnsnydermusic.com
www.myspace.com/shawnsnydermusic

Turnip-haired homeboy Shawn Snyder made quite a splash with last year's sophomore set, Romantic's Requiem, an album that earned it New Times' kudos for being among the best local releases of 2008. For its follow-up, Snyder strips things down, offering up a lo-fi acoustic set that not only finds him in his element but remarkably, even bolder than before. His studio effort boasted tumultuous tales of love and loss, tempered by a journeyman attitude and a restless spirit that kept him on the road nonstop for months at a time. Consequently, it's a relief to find Snyder alighting long enough to record this performance at Davie's Chocolate Moose Cafe, giving ample opportunity to effectively emote and embrace his sinewy, soulful motif. Opener "Dirge" finds him in accapella mode, a rather startling attempt that seizes attention immediately at the outset, From that point on, Snyder provides a dark and tangled mix of angst-intensive narratives, soulful ruminations and gruff confessional ballads that retrace the best entries from his studio recordings.

​Kreamy 'Lectric Santa
Operation Spacetime Cynderblock: "Four Riddles of the Spheres"
(Starcleaner Records)

It has been a very long time since the Kreamies have graced us with a full-length effort and what an incredibly delicious piece of wax it is. And though it has been ages, the spirit of this outfit permeates every aspect of this release. For the uninitiated: Kreamy 'Lectric Santa bridged the awkward end of the '80s and the massive untamed wilderness of Miami's '90s underground music. This band helped cement the kitschy über-coolness of Churchill's Pub as the real musical hub of South Florida and send a couple of record nerds out to track down many cassette and 7" releases from fledgling local labels.

​The Crumbs
Insubordination Fest '08: Live From Baltimore (Insubordination Records)
insubordinationrecords.com

Here are the Crumbs down to a three-piece, rocking harder than most of their contemporaries in an excellent live document of one of their retrospective gigs. (The Crumbs have 16 years in the game, baby!) The DVD gives them the full honor of color footage and a minimum, by my count, of six different camera angles. The 11 tracks on the accompanying live CD appear here too, in their full glory. Consider this justice finally served to one of the South's best, undisputed champions of punk rock and roll!

​DJ Sire Esq.
All In (Culture Kings)
myspace.com/sireesq

Not only can DJ Sire Esquire drop a mean set at a local club, but homeboy can still funk up, tea up, fuck up, and own tracks like nobody's business. This disc features 34 reworked numbers that at times rock better than the originals. Together they give you, the consumer, an uninterrupted, 80-minute play list of get-low-and-sticky-and-come-back-to-my-room pieces that express the true gist of South Florida living. It's hot here for a reason, and Sire ain't helping the weather out with these. Get it, drop it, live your life in style, my babies. This is a solid mix with a Hunter S. Thompson streak. (Full disclosure: Sire Esq. occasionally writes about music for New Times under his real name, Bernard Hacker.)

​Ed Hale
Ballad on Third Avenue
(Dying Van Gogh)

Ed Hale's outfit Transcendence was the kind of band that allowed ambition and extravagance to find equal footing. Progressive by design, its sumptuous arrangements often overshadowed Hale's skills as a songwriter, which featured some great melodies at the core. Hale seems to have remedied that band's often-obtuse approach with a solo album that focuses more on emotional content and less on instrumental elaboration. The cast of supporting players is terrific (several played in Transcendence), and Hale demonstrates an enviable gift for brooding, introspective melodies that are as quietly compelling as those of Leonard Cohen or Nick Cave. And yes, they're that good.

The fact that Hale still boasts a penchant for grander schemes ought come as no surprise. His own Dying Van Gogh label has given a home to some of South Florida's most talented artists, including multi-instrumentalist Fernando Perdomo, who also co-produced this disc. Hale himself has shifted his base of operations to New York, where he now finds both the aural and visual muse for his music. And despite the vast expanse of these urban environs, songs such as "Scene in San Francisco," "Hello My Dove," "It Feels Too Good," and "New Orleans Dreams" provide an intimate view of life, love and longing from a solitary point of view.

​Jacob Jeffries Band
...Waiting for the Piano Movers...
Eleven:11 Entertainment

Jacob Jeffries is absurdly young -- barely out of his teens -- to be so abundantly talented. And despite his age, he's clawed his way to the top strata of South Florida's pop elite, thanks to last year's aptly titled debut album, Wonderful. The comparisons to Billy Joel and Ben Folds have been widely trumpeted by the local press, but Jeffries' obvious penchant for pure pop essence makes him unique among the local legions who tend to lean towards seriousness.

Jeffries and company strike up a celebration of fock's sheer joy and unbridled exuberance, interspersing their piano pop with the over-the-top showmanship a la Jerry Lee Lewis or Elton John. Consequently, the decision to spotlight the Jeffries band in a live setting was a sound one. The resulting album, the awkwardly punctuated ....Waiting for the Piano Movers..., recreates the excitement and enthusiasm of the band's live gigs.

​¡Mayday!
The Thinnest Line (Self-released)
maydayonline.com 

This five-track EP is rife with sexy rhythm and blues, with elements of funky hip-hop and solid live instrumentation behind it. It gives an overall lounge feeling for the casual cool cat that dresses well and knows how to order a drink right. The collective is comprised by Plex, Wreckonize, BernBiz, Primo, LT Hopkins, and Gio, and though thuggy as they might sound, this disc has none of that. This can slide neatly between some Earth, Wind, and Fire and a nice showcase of good early-'90s hip-hop. Live they are pretty good, so check 'em out if you can.

​The Noumena
Demo (Self-released)
myspace.com/thenoumena
 
I actually found this EP on the sidewalk by White Room, picking it up with the same gusto with which I pick up loose change and crumpled bills. Although there is a Finnish melodic death metal band with the same name, this is all local. And here we have a nice quarter-hour of creepy, semi-computerized beats and what may or may not be household instrumentation, a capella weirdness, awkward mumbling, detached vocals, and some industrial-style injections. Young Matthew Noumena bills himself alone as playing everything. The  end result is disturbing ditties for depressed readers of poetry. This makes me think of E.M. Cioran and e.e. cummings.

​Dreaming in Stereo
Dreaming in Stereo (Van Gogh Records)

If there's one thing that's evident from the outset about multi-instrumental wunderkind Fernando Perdono -- aside from the already established fact that he's one of South Florida's most gifted songwriters and musicians -- it's that he's obviously listened to a lot of classic albums in his day. He flaunts his well-stocked vinyl library both on the inner sleeve of this new CD and its accompanying video for the lead single, "Steal This Song."  But Perdomo proves adept at transferring those collective influences into original songs that shine.

Traces of the Beatles, ELO, the Beach Boys, and the Moody Blues permeate this self-titled set, giving each track an instant familiarity that seizes hold at first encounter. That's owed in large part to the effusive arrangements that accompany songs such as "Misery Loves Companies," "Lazy," "Smile" and "Decisions, Decisions," all of which are endowed with sumptuously compelling choruses.

​South Florida artists -- with the exception of Rick Ross -- continue to get high marks on the notoriously difficult-to-please music site Pitchfork. This time it is The Postmarks who manage to snag a 7.6 rating from reviewer Matthew Solarski. In the review for their latest album, Memoirs at the End of the World, Solarski theorizes, "If the Postmarks' delightful, weather-obsessed, self-titled 2007 debut didn't quite catch fire, blame the times."

This is what he had to say about the album itself:

Yehezkely, with her limited range and slightly detached delivery, effectively bridges that gap between the music's indulgent/escapist tendencies and our desire to connect with it despite that distance. With her the Postmarks very well may have found a way to speak to both of the indie pop worlds they once seemed so precariously caught between: an unlikely marriage of craft and unpracticed charm, and a music made for dreamers and by dreamers. Can't wait for the sequel.

Jennings and Keller
As The Universe Unfolds
jenningsandkeller.com

As the owner and proprietor of Homestead's late, lamented Main Street Café, Laurie Jennings (uh, the musician, not the anchor lady) was adept at entertaining her guests with covers of well-worn classics from the Americana songbook.  Now, paired with partner and veteran session whiz Dana Keller, she's writing songs that sound as if they were culled from the same stockpile. On the duo's outstanding second effort, the cosmically dubbed As The Universe Unfolds, they take an assertive stance that reflects their true folk finesse. 

And Then There Was You
And Then There Was You (Indianola Records)
www.myspace.com/ATTWY

Powerful, melody-driven three - and - a - half - minute ditties propel this album above and beyond the muck of what has sadly become of the post-punk/hardcore scene. The extremely adept rhythm section of Alex De Renzis (drums) and Steven Vasquez (bass) do the real rhythm's job of setting up the template for the twin guitars of Bret Swenson and Eddie Castineira. In turn they set up the soaring vocals of Armando Soler. This record comprises 10 tracks of endearing sing-alongs; only the very first, "The Beloved," is perhaps too kitschy. Everything else rocks pretty hard. My repeat faves are "Star Struck" and "The Devil vs. Father Moore." 

Isaac Hayes
Hot Buttered Soul (Stax)

Forget "Chef," "South Park," and all that Scientology bullshit. Isaac Hayes died last summer. If we're to remember him for just one thing, let it be Hot Buttered Soul.

The landmark 1969 LP has been remastered and gussied up with bonus tracks. There are also new liner notes by My Morning Jacket's Jim James. "Hot Buttered Soul" dropped June 23 to celebrate its 40th anniversary. Will anyone be celebrating South Park's 40th? Doubtful.

The record ranks as one of the most emotive and sonically progressive albums of the modern era. It moves, mesmerizes, and lingers like a sensational stranger who rocks your world but only stays for a single night. Its powers of seduction are sublime.  

Don Chambers is playing a solo show (meaning he's without his band Goat) with Viva Le Vox at Propaganda on July 11. Chambers is an Athens Georga based singer songwriter in the Tom Waits/Nick Cave mold who's latest album, Zebulon, was produced by Patterson Hood of Drive-By Truckers fame. His music is, thick with banjo, steel guitar, and thumping percussion compliments dark and poetic lyrics about the shadier, unseen aspects of life. Of course, this show he'll be without Goat, so his gruff voice and songwriting will be at the forefront. Tickets for the show are just $5 at the door. Hit the jump for a mini-review of Zebulon and a video.

via michaelfeinbergmusic.com

Michael Feinberg
Evil Genius
www.michaelfeinbergmusic.com

To the uninitiated, jazz generally falls into one of two broad categories -- that which is readily accessible and that which isn't. That's an unsophisticated observation to be sure, but one with which many non-aficionados will likely concur. Count Chuck Mangione, Spyro Gyra and, yes, Kenny G among those who purvey the former, and true masters like Miles Davis, John Coltrane and Sun Ra as examples of the latter. Fortunately though, a reliable melody doesn't always dictate the divide between music that's innovative and accomplished and the radio-ready pabulum that's more commonly classified as jazz-lite.

Brooke Hogan
The Redemption
SoBe Entertainment

You'll love Brooke Hogan's latest, The Redemption, if your taste in music was honed while drunkenly bar hopping on Washington Avenue. The album is about as charming  as pole dancing for an ass-grab-happy crowd during Calle Ocho. And it's as sophisticated as the cover art which would look more appropriate adorning the hood of a Honda, a Veladora candle, or an oversized T-shirt worn by a chonga at the Mall of the Americas while she's waiting in line for an arepa than on a CD...for purchase.

Auto-tuned and over mixed to hell, one wonders while listening to The Redemption if an actual instrument was used during the recording process aside from Brooke's vocals. Which, in all honesty are pretty decent. She proves that she's got some kind of talent in the Billboard-friendly "You'll Never be Like Him", a likeable enough tune until you begin to digest it's relatively slutty message which is to ditch a rebound if he doesn't compare to your ex after he's gotten his grimy paws all over you. But then again, the opening track on the album is called "Strip". And the eighth is called "Handcuffed". And the ninth is called "Ruff Me Up" featuring Flo Rida, which this reviewer really liked when Britney Spears originally titled it "Womanizer."

When you've spent a quarter century reinventing rock music, altering the landscape not only for yourself, but for pretty much every band to come after, releasing a new album can be a tricky affair. It's not just a matter of increased expectations -- of course everyone expects their musical gods to put out good albums. The much more troubling prospect is the question, where do we go from here?   

Sonic Youth started out making music that many people couldn't even recognize as such. Now, some 25 years later, the sounds they invented and the musical worldview they fostered have come to pretty well define the many divergent streams of what we think of as underground or indie music. Fortunately for Sonic Youth, what they did, and what they do, represents such a sea change from the status quo that all of their influence constitute mere ripples out from their epicenter.  

The Crumbs were once signed to Lookout! Records. They toured the country and wrote great songs that made the kids sing along. 

But times have changed. Johnny B moved on. Chuck Loose went back to his office. Emil 4 ½ isn't doing it anymore. But the Crumbs are still pretty damn great.  They have hit a second or third stride in the last little bit where they feel a new-found comfort with some of their classic material. 

Their set from the Insubordination Fest in Baltimore last year was caught on film, and produced by veteran Mass Giorgini. Now it's  available on CD/DVD. It's a pretty damn good show. Raf Classic still snarls and smiles and charms his way through the set, backed by Jose Flores on bass and Marcio on drums. There are some flim-flams and off-beat shenanigans from behind the kit and some pretty funny reactions from Flores. They blow up a borrowed amp and get some impromptu back-ups from Slimak of Stay Hitt. 

Julian Marley
Awake (Ghetto Youths International)

It's been six years since Julian Marley's last full-length. Awake, his third major release, comes to us at the height of spiritual and political alertness. The first African American president is in power, and our ever-growing global village is becoming even more interconnected, one Twitter as a time. It's as good a time as any for Julian to take us on a journey of what it means to be "awake" in both mind and body.

The fourth-youngest son of reggae legend Bob Marley, Julian is among the lesser-known of Bob's many talented offsprings. Still, it's always the quiet ones that you need to watch out for. Musically and vocally, Julian might be the closest thing to what Bob would have sounded like if he were alive today. Julian's music is a cross-pollination of Ziggy's pop sensibility and Damian's dancehall vibes, mixed in with Stephen's stripped-down musicianship. 

Rotagilla
Season For Leavin' (self-released)

You'd think it was 1970 again, for Chrissakes, what with the way the guys of Rotagilla let out their inner Led Zep. Granted, there's no hint of a Robert Plant or Jimmy Page lurking among this lot. However, in recycling the old school power trio format and letting loose their ragged riffing and rambunctious exhortations, these guys expel a lot of volume. And what they may lack in technical prowess, they more than make up for in sheer exuberance.

Jane's Addiction
A Cabinet of Curiosities
www.janesaddiction.com

Jane's Addiction is of those bands that, although its members don't especially like each other anymore, wields an influence simply too great to allow the band to stay broken up. The game-changing L.A. quartet that treated alternative rock like heavy metal (and vice versa) is now on its third, maybe fourth, reunion. (Jane's originally called it quits after headlining the first Lollapalooza tour in 1991, and plays West Palm's Cruzan Amphitheatre with fellow Lolla '91 alumni Nine Inch Nails this Friday.)

Kyle Crossland
Kyle Crossland EP
Cane Records

University of Miami student Kyle Crossland's new self-titled EP is a pleasant mix of easy-listening alternative rock tunes that don't quite approach the acoustic grooviness of Jack Johnson. There are promising moments such as the opening tempo of the EP's first song "Irony," which contains hints of early Unwritten Law and which breaks down into a catchy, though, predictably mediocre chorus. Unfortunately, these qualities seem to define the album: promising but amateurish and too formulaic. However, Crossland does possess the smooth vocals needed for easy-rock listening and, with more complex musical arrangements (he needs a better drummer), he may be someone to look for in the future; and not just in the local bar covering "Margaritaville."

Stimming
Reflections
(Dynamic Music)

In an electronic music era over-saturated with dilettante bedroom producers and prosaic cookie-cutter dance tracks, Martin Stimming stands as a bold innovator with a musicianship and sound uniquely his own. A relative newcomer to the international minimal scene, this Hamburg resident has been gaining steady praise since 2007 with a series of consistently compelling releases and intense live performances around the world. 

The genius of his production style is marked by both a classical melodic sensibility and a technical reverence that is as traditional as it is cutting-edge. Stimming is an avant-garde artist in the best -and least pretentious- sense of the term: wildly imaginative, self-reflective (without taking himself too seriously) and unafraid of taking the type of risks that threaten to alienate listeners but end up winning them over by sheer force of originality. He is no more techno than Aphex Twin or Matthew Herbert are techno, in that these artists all reach far beyond the parameters of conventional EDM production, using field recordings and mad studio science to defy all expectations.

Sung to the tune of "Jack and Diane": "A little ditty about Matt and Kim/Two American kids making music in Brooklyn/Matt plays keys, sings snotty and cute/Kim bashes out drumbeats and sings a bit, too/Oh yeah, life goes on/Long after the hype of their debut is gone/Oh, yeah, life goes on/Matt and Kim are here to save the pop song."

Okay, maybe they're a bit different from the kids John Cougar envisioned back in '82. But Matt and Kim's updated take on early-1990s twee is as American as the most colloquial heartland rock. Like an inverse version of Mates of State, Matt takes the reins with his brash but endearing vocals, while Kim's driving breakbeats provide the anchor.

Matthew Sabatella has carved out a distinctive niche for himself over the past several years or so by recreating the songs of America's past, complete with instruments of the era --- fiddles, banjos, Jew's harps, and the like. He takes his traveling band to schools, libraries, and just about anywhere else that folks with a fondness for traditional tunes might gather.

His Ballad of America series of recordings charts Sabatella going back to the nation's origins and completing a broad examination of its musical trajectory. These archival folk songs are hardly the type of thing to garner broad appeal, especially in a place like South Florida, where tradition is measured in months rather than centuries. Synths, samples, and back-up dancers don't find a place in music of this sort, and only those content to tap their toes and relish some homegrown sentiments will likely appreciate its appeal.

MSTRKRFT
Fist Of God
(Dim Mak)

Three words: Worst. Album. Ever. MSTRKRFT should be glad we don't have a rating system here on Crossfade, because if we did, they would rightfully receive a zero-star rating from us. Honestly, we really wanted to like this album, but there is just no getting around how big of a mess it truly is.

Signs that this album was going to be an utter failure was easy to spot when the duo left its label Last Gang, home of Crystal Castles, Metric, Tiga and Chromeo, for Dim Mak, a label led by dance music worst enemy, Steve Aoki. And it's evident on Fist Of God that Aoki's mark has been left on every single track. Jesse Keeler and Al-P follow the boss' motto of louder and harder is better, which if you've ever heard an Aoki track, you know that isn't true.

Perhaps the biggest offense are the confusing appearances by N.O.R.E., John Legend, Jamal, E40 and Ghostface Killah on the album, all who don't seem able to keep up with the album's breakneck speed. But even at the rapid speed, everything seems a bit too polished, as if they obsessively worked in the studio cleaning up every mistake found, which only makes the album that much more boring because it lacks character.

If you must download any tracks, stick with "It Ain't Love," "Vu Vu Vu," and "Fist Of God," everything else is pretty much disposable, particularly the embarrassing "Heartbreaker" featuring John Legend, who sings the most ridiculous lyrics: "Remember when I caught your eye / You gave me rainbows and butterflies."

My only question is, how do you go from being called the next Daft Punk to releasing this coke-binge of a disaster?

The Weston-based indie up-and-comers Old Wives' Tale are nothing if not professional -- the band's entire existence argues further for the end of record labels. Its web site and debut disc are snappily designed and art-directed by the band itself, with a high-gloss, New Wave style much like the band's music. The band calls its style "amphetamine music," an accurate label, as evidenced on its new Younger Limbs EP.