Factory Records blues....
Lypo Suck | Hades, United States | 05/18/2002
(4 out of 5 stars)
"What we have here is something definitely worthy of much more attention than it got back in the 80s. To me, the music here sounds like what you'd get if you took OMD, paired them up with the driving rhythm section from Gang of Four circa "Songs of the Free", threw in the guitarist from, oh, I dunno, Psychadelic Furs, and then morphed David Tibet, Gavin Friday, and Bon Scott into one entity and made him sing. Then, you make sure to have *someone* from New Order producing (in this case, Peter Hook). What you end up with is a record chock full of infectiously catchy, sharp, melodic pop tunes, made up of wiry, treated guitars, pleasant sheets of gossamer synths, and throbbing bass set to a pounding beat. All coated with desperate vocals sung by our mutant Friday/Tibet/Scott singer.
The songs are great. Danceable, simple, irresistibly melodic, and they stick in your brain like glue. But there's a certain moodiness too, as some songs slow down a bit and languish in more sombre, hazy, lovely atmosphere. The singing, however, takes some getting used to. Part of the problem is that he yells a lot, and lacks a certain subtlety, sense of dynamic, and restraint. And he has an annoying tendency to sing in the same rhythmic timing and meter on several songs, which gets to be repetitive and a bit numbing after a while. Plus, that kind of hoarse Gavin Friday/David Tibet vocal quality is not all that pleasing to my ears. BUT, I more or less got over that hurdle, and I find the music thoroughly enjoyable on many levels.
The 9 extra bonus tracks are absolutely essential, and fit right in with the proper album, making this a pretty cohesive cd."
Why has no one heard of this album?
Sierra Wilson | Rhode Island | 11/14/2003
(5 out of 5 stars)
"I could spend hours and consume entire notebooks expounding upon the untouchable genius of The Stockholm Monsters and their glowing melodies and completely impeccable songs. But, for me, that is not what this album is about--it is about the timeless, utterly personal moments embodied within every note of Tony France's voice and painted in vibrant colors by the quasi-chaotic, vaguely soaring ebbs and flows of sparkling personality embedded within every song. The Monsters condense the past completely into the present, and the result is the creation of perfect pop moments that craft an 'image' within my head--a portrait, for me, that consists of so many real experiences that make this album a universal and personal treasure. When I hear the chorus in the background of "Where I Belong" desperately chant "everything's wrong!" I inexplicably think of kids strolling across the lawn at the end of summer, momentarily joyful but on the cusp of melancholy and disaster. When I hear the icy keyboard riff drift slowly beneath the minor-key guitar in "E.W." I envision hot summer nights, laying in bed and looking out into the alluring darkness arriving so late. You see, "Alma Mater" is the best expression of melancholy ever committed to record--hell, it's also the most uplifting, the most enlightening, the most spiritual record of all time. It contradicts itself at every turn, turning inconsolable sadness into soaring moments of vindication and somehow holding itself together amidst the messy clash of desperation and hope, of past, present, and future. Forget "emo" and all that "confessional music"--at the precise moment Tony says "Oh I love you oh so much..." at the height of the atmospheric chaos and bubbling bass of "Militia," every soul singer who has ever lived ought to give up, because they have nothing on this guy and all the grey, dreary moments beneath the sun that he condenses into one simple line. That's the magic of the Monsters: they get straight into your head without pausing to tell you "what they're doing" or making a single concession to the expectations of your ears. They go off on a tangent, they quietly make gold out of lead and leave you wallowing in total awe, subsequently wondering how any band could say so much with such simple songs and ancient sentiments. A perfect example is "Kan Kill!" where Tony begins "It's getting kinda lonely here with everyone around"--while loneliness is an emotion you could find in any pretentious nu-metal or 'raw' folk song (nothing is 'raw' when compared to this utterly fatless and streamlined work of genius) ; yet the second half of the line, delivered in a mute, warbly voice, makes all the difference, separating The Stockholm Monsters from every pretender melancholic rock band in history. They are so good that they make The Smiths look pale and Joy Division look pompous--while I certainly love both of those bands, neither of them possesses the Monsters' inimitable penchant for mind-bendingly direct and alluring songs that seem to function more like funhouses, like deceptive and intriguing creations in which you can lose your mind amidst the commingling of excitement, surprise, and intrigue. That said, "Alma Mater" is the greatest house of mirrors ever constructed. It is a musical canvas upon which the elongated and ambivalent days of your youth are rendered simultaneously in neon color and stark neutrals; it is simply, a candle whose flame is the human condition, wafting within the darkness yet maintaining a hint of warmth, a grain of hope..."
Best album ever.
Sierra Wilson | 01/19/2003
(5 out of 5 stars)
"john darnielle (mountain goats) said this of this album: Best album ever. BEST ALBUM EVER. *BEST ALBUM EVER.*"
Track Listings (19) - Disc #1