If there was question as to who is the most professional rock band in music nowadays, there was no doubt after Death Cab for Cutie completed their nearly two hour long set at the Greek Theatre, Thursday night in Los Angeles.

Having been the sixth time seeing the group live, it was still somewhat shocking seeing such a high level of musicianship coming from the Seattle-based four piece.

Just after 8:30 p.m., Death Cab took the stage, opening with “I Will Possess Your Heart.” It was quite a daring move to open with a song that extends over seven minutes, probably the least popular single of their last few albums.

After roaring through six songs including “Crooked Teeth,” “Moviescript Ending,” and “Long Division,” Gibbard took the time to address an issue he clearly never thought might one day become a reality.

“I’m an Angeleno now, guys,” Gibbard said. “Never thought I would be.”

Marquee outside the Greek Theatre. Photo by Shawn Toyooka.   “Codes and Keys,” one of the strongest tracks off their newest album of the same name, lacked the energy you might expect. This was really the only sore spot of the show. The amount of energy from song to song fluctuated, sometimes extremely high and sometimes a lackluster low. This could of course be attributed to the fan feedback of what they were playing as well. When songs such as “Soul Meets Body,” “I Will Follow You Into The Dark,” and ” Title and Registration” were played, the crowd erupted into an uncontainable fervor. When the band played tracks such as “Company Calls,” “Photobooth,” and “Your Bruise” there wasn’t nearly a reaction received as deserved. Still, the band was charming, clearly wanting everyone in attendance to enjoy themselves. When someone from the crowd inevitably asked Gibbard, “where’s Zooey?,” referring to his wife, actress/musician, Zooey Deschanel, Gibbard playfully responded, “where’s Zooey? This is OUR show.” Not the best seats in the house, but the Greek is small enough where it doesn't matter much. Photo by Shawn Toyooka.   The highlight of the night came when during “We Looked Like Giants,” Gibbard dueled with drummer Jason McGerr, facing him while playing his own makeshift set, as the rest of the band jammed joyously. After briefly leaving the stage just after 10 p.m., Death Cab returned, playing four more songs to a mostly-standing crowd for the encore. Closing with “Transatlanticism,” the band delivered yet another memorable performance, amounting into one of the largest sing-alongs most everyone at the Greek had ever taken part of. In a time where music lovers are frantically looking for a band who might fill the holes of rock legends who continue to play shows to this day, those in attendance at the Greek Theatre might have found their best bet in Death Cab for Cutie.

I will be writing this review on Prince performing at the Great Western Forum in Inglewood last night. Now I know that is not a particularly strong way of opening an article, but there is something somewhat unique about this statement: I cannot claim to have any kind of meaningful musical knowledge or relationship with Prince or any of his work.

Naturally, arriving at the Forum around 8:15 p.m. and watching the colorful crowd trickle in, I had not the slightest intention of writing up a piece. By 9 p.m. Prince had begun his set.

By 9:15, I figured I should start taking notes.

Prince performs live

When Prince took the stage, it might have been the loudest venue I have ever been in. He played alongside a group of talented musicians, including three keyboardists, three beautifully powerful-voiced backup singers, a female bass player who slapped funky rhythms with conviction, and a drummer whose set almost reached around his body.

Prince also had two backup dancers he called, “The Twinz,” who would come on stage occasionally to offer more visual aids to an already dazzling spectacle.

The stage itself was designed in the shape of the Love Symbol he once identified himself with. This elaborate staging allowed a 360-degree view of the crowd and a large surface for all members of the band to move around and interact with the crowd.

The crowd itself was amazing. There were people of all ages, but it was the fans that grew up with Prince, approximately mid-30’s–early 40’s, who showed up in full force. Almost every time a song started, there would be an explosion of applause and screaming, followed by standing and dancing. In essence, it was a gigantic party for an older generation of music fans.

It was at this point I started to think about the music of my generation. It was a struggle at all to think of any contemporary pop star that might someday reach the level of iconic status that Prince still, and will always enjoy. I couldn’t come up with anyone.

There are several reasons why it is unlikely for any musician nowadays to reach the popularity of Prince. Everything about music has changed since he began his musical campaign in the late 70’s. Where there was once innovation and the concept of an entire album as art, there is now overproduction and focus on top-40 hits in hopes of being played repeatedly on the radio. Music, even in the mainstream, was an art form during his heyday. Now, music is merely a money machine.

Of course, I would be remiss not to give Prince at least a little credit for his own success. The 52-year-old star has been prolific in creating music, releasing at least one album almost every year since his debut in 1978.  Also, Prince has always given off the vibe of a true rock/pop star. He owns his persona and does not waver when confronted with criticism or negativity unlike so many musicians who “reinvent” themselves while basically asking, “do you like me now?”

With a clear love for the stage, and more importantly a passion for making and playing music, Prince has survived the ever-changing landscape of the music business all these years.

A portrait of Prince

Prince played for over three hours, including five encores, before he retired for the evening. He had the type of energy that could not be rivaled by any amount of stage gimmickry. He had the type of energy that could not be rivaled by any number of Gaga’s, Beiber’s or any other current star. He had the type of energy that could not be rivaled.

Even with his marathon performance, Prince was unable to play every song the crowd was hoping for. During a medley he condensed several fan favorites into minute long chunks, explaining to the crowd, “I told you, there’s too many hits!”

This is a problem only an artist who has released over 30 albums and still loves everything about music has.

Here’s hoping there’s someone who can fill half his shoes when I’m 40.

Dan Bejar, who’s released nine albums under the Destroyer name for over 10 years, has always been distinct in sound and style. From the often-indecipherable poetry that are his lyrics to complex song structures that challenge most first-time listeners, Bejar has found permanency in the eclectic. On his latest effort, Kaputt, released on Merge Records, Bejar transforms himself again, lulling casual listeners into believing he’s made a simple album. The truth is Kaputt is one of the most subtly intricate albums you will hear this year (I know it’s only February, but mark my words).

For those of you not acquainted with Mr. Bejar, his instruments of choice have long been piano and guitar. On Kaputt though, Bejar opts for an 80’s feel, using sleepy synthesizers and dreamy guitar effects. Also taking part regularly on the album are horns and saxophones, adding a smooth jazz feel that isn’t at all as bad as it sounds. The result is a seemingly effortless amalgamation of pensive beauty.

Album opener, “Chinatown,” begins with a lead-in from the drums, and then quickly introduces an atmospheric guitar. Just under halfway through the track, a horn leads a break in the song, establishing itself as a major contributor throughout the album along with the saxophone, often dueling and converging to make bright sounds that rest easy on the listeners ears.

The fourth track, “Suicide Demo For Kara Walker,” clocks in as the albums second-longest song at eight minutes, taking its time to build with moody synthesizers until the rhythm section takes over. Bejar, known for his unusual croon, is more subdued than usual, complimenting the quiet complexities of the song. What truly makes the song infinitely listenable is it hypnotizes and enchants, mixing and matching around nine different parts that work together to make a confident track.

The title track of the album may serve as its most accessible to listeners who are interested in listening to Destroyer. “Kaputt” drives forward with smooth intent, dressed in more dreamy synth lines and horns. Speaking of smooth, the album wouldn’t have the same carefree vibe if not for the always-on-point bass that once again leads the rhythm section, which then leads the entire song. Bejar’s enigmatic lyrics are on playful display as he sings, “wasting your days / chasing some girls / alright, chasing cocaine / through the backrooms of the world / all night.” This song sneaks up on you, finding its way into your brain where it won’t leave until you’ve given it a few good listens.

The album closes with the 11+ minute song, “Bay Of Pigs (Detail).” It begins with a pulsating effect, creating a tense atmosphere as Bejar slowly explains, “listen, Ive been drinking / as our house lies in ruin.” The demoralized sentiment continues for several more minutes. At seven minutes, all of the familiar instruments finally meet again, and they don’t look back. For the next four minutes, handclaps punctuate the dance worthiness of what is truly an epic song. It’s a perfect end to the album.

Dan Bejar is a master at making challenging, eclectic albums. On Kaputt, Bejar has crafted yet another completely original album that offers the kind of consistency that most artists don’t achieve in their entire career. Don’t be discouraged if Kaputt isn’t an instant hit with you, instead let it subtly work its way into your favorites, just as it was intended to do.

To be honest, before watching Sufjan Stevens and his band of amazing musicians/performers stun the sold out crowd of The Wiltern this past Sunday, I wasn’t sure how they could possibly attempt to replicate the intricacies of his latest effort, The Age Of Adz. For the next two hours, I was made to look like a fool as every nuance of almost every instrument (minus the woodwinds) was accounted for by Stevens and a backing ensemble that reached double digits.

After opening with a brilliant and haunting rendition of “Seven Swans,” Stevens jumped into much of the newest album’s material. Playing “Too Much” next, it was clear that everyone in attendance would get their money’s worth. Not only was the band up to the task of performing live such intense and demanding songs, they did it with seemingly uncontrollable glee. Two female backing singers boasted matching futuristic space outfits, hitting every note while simultaneously performing a choreographed dance for each song. A projector played clips of various animation and art in the background throughout the show, always lending itself directly to the song being played (during “Chicago” the screen was filled with what is assumed to be the van mentioned in the song, driving about in the background).

Photograph by Shawn Toyooka

Stevens proved much more outgoing than his downtrodden music might suggest. That’s right, Sufjan got down, dancing often times like a confused robot, much to the excitement of the packed house. His insecurities were also on display, as he apologized for how whiny his material was. At one point, he spoke for 10 minutes about the life of schizophrenic painter Royal Robertson. While some might have considered it rambling (including Stevens himself), it was more thoughtful than just that. He explained that the painter would use very raw and rudimentary materials when creating his art. Sufjan drew inspiration from Roberton, using drum machines and synthesizers to create raw and rudimentary sounds, which he then layered with full songs on top of. While hyper-analytical almost to the extent of completely strange, Stevens was more personable than most musicians that I have seen in the past. He felt like a person on stage rather than a musician, if that makes any sense.

The musical highlight of the night was most definitely the 25-minute magnum opus, “Impossible Soul,” which Stevens and company performed… in full. To those who have listened to the song, you can easily understand that this is nothing short of an amazing feat. To those who have not, listen to the song and imagine it tirelessly performed live by at least 10 people while a laser/light/art show is played in the background, complete with a cheering and dance section, an auto-tune duet between Stevens and a backup singer (it sounds funny because it was kind of funny), and gold confetti for those lucky enough to be in the pit.

After a short hiatus from the stage, the band gave the relentless, cheering crowd the encore they were so anxiously hoping for. The encore consisted of strictly songs from Illinois, including “UFO’s…” and “Jacksonville.” Stevens ended the night with what is arguably one of his very best narrated songs, “Casimir Pulaski Day.”

Overall, there wasn’t much more that anyone in attendance could have asked for. Stevens and friends put on a show worthy of its own place in concert performance infamy. The Wiltern was the perfect venue to host Sufjan Stevens, providing enough space for the gigantic wall of sound created, but small enough for everyone from the ground floor up to the balcony to feel like they were personally part of something truly special.

It was silly; it was entertaining; it was brilliant.

“Seven Swans” performed the night before at The Wiltern.

Sufjan Stevens has been nowhere to be found for the past five years. After releasing the instant classic that was Illinois in 2005, fans and critics alike were left giddily awaiting the next release in his proposed 50 States Project. Unfortunately for all, this wasn’t to be. Instead, Stevens seemed to be questioning the point of releasing music at all in several interviews last year. As fans began to sheepishly hang their heads and give up on Sufjan altogether, he released a free EP online two months ago, and now follows it up with a full-length album, The Age Of Adz, in which he deconstructs himself mentally and spiritually through the use of familiar devices such as trumpets, flutes, synth pads and drum machines. The result is nothing short of brilliant.

The album begins with the hauntingly sleepy “Futile Devices.” Sparse instrumentation consisting of guitar, piano, rim taps and dubbed vocals create a tender, heartfelt meekness that doesn’t stray far from old favorites such as “Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois.” While this is more comfort than surprise, it would be wise for listeners not to be fooled into thinking they’ve heard this album before.

What follows is the nearly seven-minute opus, “Too Much.” Any questions as to the legitimacy of an electro-pop album by the enigmatic singer-songwriter are quickly answered. Heavy on drum machines and synth effects, the song mixes Steven’s notoriously introspective lyrics with a new canvas on which to explore. What really separates the amalgamation of sound is the incorporation of horns, woodwinds and layers upon layers of gorgeously placed harmonies throughout. Towards the end of the track, the action begins to dissipate, lulling the listener to relaxation, only to transition into a spacey jam that reminds me of watching Star Wars and seeing the Death Star. It only gets bigger in scope.

Album art inspired by schizophrenic painter, Royal Robertson.

The title track of the album follows, clocking in at eight minutes on the dot. Much of the same instrumentation is used, though focusing more on the side of classic Sufjan orchestration. The religious undertones are on full display and his lyrics have never been more affecting as he sings, “Well I have known you for just a little while / But I feel I’ve known you / I feel I’ve seen you when the Earth was split in fives.”

“I Walked” and “I Want To Be Well” serve as spiritual healing for Stevens. The former discusses the hardships of letting go of the one you love (a popular theme for every songwriter, I know), while the latter, as the title suggests, pleads for some peace. In it, Stevens and company sing, “Everywhere you look / everywhere you turn / illness is watching / waiting its turn.” The track ends in dramatic fashion as seemingly everyone capable repeats “I want to be well!” while the music crescendos then crashes.

The album closes with what might appear to be a farce, if not for the 10 tracks preceding that solidified its unshakeable credibility. “Impossible Souls” checks in at 25+ minutes, somehow managing to keep the listener engaged and excited for what is to follow. The first act floats peacefully after the intensity of “I Want To Be Well,” reminiscent of Yoshimi-era Flaming Lips. After a slightly misguided stab at auto-tune, the most dance-inducing moment of Adz takes form in what is also its most hopeful moment. Once again, everyone is gathered to sing gleefully, “Boy, we can do much more together / It’s not so impossible!” If you don’t feel extremely happy to be alive when this moment arrives, it’s most likely you will never be happy ever. Finally, the marathon ends as it starts, as sparing guitar intertwines effortlessly with layers of Steven’s voice. The contemplation of life is discussed, but clearly not resolved.

Yeah, so maybe he's a little crazy...

The Age Of Adz is quite possibly Sufjan Steven’s most inviting and engaging album to date. What is more remarkable than anything about this truly majestic album is the undeniable flow throughout. This is obviously no easy feat for a record that totals over 70 minutes. Sufjan Stevens has proven over his last few albums that when he wants to, he can create more gorgeously written, performed and produced records than most his peers. There is no doubt in my mind that The Age Of Adz is the album of the year, and fans and critics alike will once again be keeping a close eye on the genius of Sufjan Stevens to come. Let’s hope this doesn’t push him away. We can’t afford to lose such a unique, inspiring and God-gifted artist.

When you think of Ray LaMontagne, you tend to hear only his voice. It’s easy to understand why. Deep, raspy, strong, delicate, wavering. All at once. Through much of his musical career, there’s hardly been reason to pair it with a full band rocking or rolling behind it. It’s an instrument in and of itself.

Then God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise was released.

There certainly was a lot of expectation being that LaMontagne was releasing an album giving credit to a backing band for the first time. Consisting of guitarist Eric Heywood, bassist Jennifer Condos, drummer Jay Bellerose, keyboardist Patrick Warren and pedal steel guitarist Greg Leisz, the Pariah Dogs boast extraordinary musicians who have backed for the likes of Alison Krauss, Fiona Apple, and Red Hot Chili Peppers.

With an immensely talented backing band and a longer artist name to deal with than usual, it seemed logical to expect a bigger sound from Ray LaMontagne and the Pariah Dogs. Also, maybe Ray would lighten up a little, start growling over some funky, rockin’ tracks. Maybe he might stray away from his usual sparing instrumentation and replace it with jukebox songs you could play at the bar without wanting to kill yourself after. Maybe he might just surprise us. And for approximately half the album, he kind of does.

Album opener, “Repot Man” sounds like it was made in the 70’s. Now of course, those who have listened to anything LaMontagne has released in the past won’t find this to be all that shocking. The production of his albums and the soulful croon of his distinct vocals has always given the listener the feel of a different time. A time when music was made from the heart in a small room, with other like-minded musicians, filling the recordings with a sound that you just can’t find in music nowadays. “Repot Man” offers a grooving bass line and riffing guitar that works supremely well when matched with LaMontagne’s famous voice. When Ray sings (as only he can), “I’m ’bout to do what your daddy shoulda done, I’m gonna lay you right across my knee,” the sensual mood of the first track hits a fevered pitch.

In order to cool off possible overheating, the second track slows down to a leisurely paced folk triumph, “New York City’s Killing Me.” Just as a grooving bass line works in the first track, the pedal steel of Leisz works in perfect harmony with LaMontagne in the second. The track is possibly the album’s most inviting, offering somewhat lighthearted folk beauty while Ray suggests that people in the city could care less if you die. Oh, the irony. Other highlights include the banjo-led “Old Before Your Time” and the majestically composed title track.

While LaMontagne is to credit for these brilliantly written songs, it’s somewhat peculiar that the other half of the album sounds so similar to previous works of his as a man with only a guitar and a voice.

The prospect of Ray LaMontagne with a full time backing band gave fans endless ideas of how God Willin’ might sound. However, I doubt that many thought that it might sound a lot like when the “Pariah Dogs” wasn’t a part of the band’s primary name. Whether LaMontagne had trouble breaking from his penchant as dreary singer-songwriter, or maybe a halfway fleshed out album was released due to only five days in the studio, one can only hope that next time around he fully commits to the excellency of the Pariah Dogs as band members, not just players. That is, if you’re looking for something different from Ray LaMontagne.

Few bands have the skill and musicianship to be able to make listeners feel their melodrama. Even fewer bands have what it takes to make a career out of doing so. Since 2000, Canada’s Stars have been one of those few. After listening to the 2005 masterpiece, Set Yourself on Fire, it was clear to me that I was listening to a unique and special band. The kind of band that has the power to make beautiful, majestic and lush anthems, all while trying their hardest to break your heart (which they often succeeded in doing).

On each of their previous releases, Stars have used their exaggerated emotions and brilliance in storytelling to convey a feeling that most artists can’t do nearly as well. Horns, shoegazed guitars, vibrant synths and larger-than-life strings helped intimate the amount of sentiment felt in the process of writing each song. Also, without the sometimes playful and sometimes painful interactions of Torquil Campbell’s hammy voice and Amy Millan’s breathy, sweet elegance, the band might not have turned as many heads as they have. Every talent of every member of the band is vital to their success.

Unfortunately though, Stars fifth studio release, The Five Ghosts, sounds somewhat insincere and slightly lost. The first thing that was notably different was the length of the album. The 11 tracks that pass by in just 38 minutes doesn’t quite lend itself to the large scale epics and heart wrenching tales that fans are used to from the Canadian outfit. The songs seem rushed, running to a destination that is never made clear to the listener. The effectiveness of the melodrama is thwarted when the songs fit the form of just another indie pop band. Not surprisingly though, one big positive of the album is Millan’s delicate vocals, which fit perfectly amidst the upbeat pop filling the album.

"And the award for the most melodramatic album cover goes to..."

Now, I realize that this review is making The Five Ghosts sound really, really bad. It isn’t. There are a few tracks scattered about that are worth listening to more than a few times. “We Don’t Want Your Body” is a mix between a pop gem straight from the late 90’s and  “new-new-wave.” Heavy synths play background to Millan and Campbell as they make it clear they aren’t easy to get in the sack.

Similarly, “Changes” lends itself to simple synth-led pop while Millan does most of the heavy lifting. Her voice is so tender, sweet and broken; she makes it hard to not feel a bit bummed by the end. Though different from other Stars singles, the tracks mood most closely resembles their previous work.

When it comes right down to it though, The Five Ghosts is not on par with other Stars releases. If they were most other bands, this album would probably be highly touted. Such is the case though; more is expected out of a band that has proven their genius through almost their entire musical career. One can only hope this is just a slight misstep in a career that still has many more wonderful moments to come.

When picking the genre for the album, St. Vincent Décor, I reluctantly chose alternative rock as its home. Not to say that Arizona-based Blackmarket doesn’t involve alternative rock in their arsenal, it’s just that they feel much more like an honest, infectious and unflinching “rock” band. Not only is the group comprised of the all too rare three-piece, but because of it they rely heavily on huge hooks and monster guitar riffs. Oh, and the album checks in with 10 tracks at just over 30 minutes — it really doesn’t get more rock ‘n roll than that.

As is the case with any band that delves into the world of three-minute songs, big choruses and clear-cut rock songs, you will inevitably think to youself at some point, “I feel like I’ve heard this song before.” This is because you have. What Blackmarket is doing isn’t the most innovative in music, nor is it meant to be. The album banks on the fact that good music is simply good music. Whether or not St. Vincent Décor changes your life is hardly the point. The point is to showcase three solid musicians who truly enjoy what they are doing.

I kind of knew I would enjoy this album based on the cover alone. Ask anyone I know.

Mike Emerson, Langdon Chieffo and Daryl Lamont comprise Blackmarket, playing together since they were in junior high. A comfortable chemistry is clear from the opening track, “Tongue Twister Typo.” Almost no time passes before the drum rolls kick in, huge guitar riffs following closely behind, finally coming together with a bass that aggressively grooves towards the introduction of Lamont’s vocals. His voice is everything you might expect from a rock singer; slightly scratchy, slightly agitated and more than slightly willing to belt a line or two.

“Blue Lemon,” finds the band willing to tone it down in regards to the guitar, opting for acoustic over electric. Lamont and company refuses to slow the pace though, using a mellotron (keyboard) to fill in any empty spaces in the music. The song sets a brisk pace from the onset and does not let up. The chorus, like most on the album, is instantly approachable.

Like a lot of rock bands though, Blackmarket suffers from the notion that there just has to be at least one acoustic track on the album. I, personally, never really understood this unwritten rule. “Catch and Release” is by no means a bad song, in fact, it is better than most others attempts. Problem is, when listening to song after song that offers up big sounds and bigger choruses; it just seems unnecessary to slow down the action. Really though, this is just me finding something pretty small to complain about amidst a whole lot to be happy with.

On tour in Germany in 2008.

After listening to St. Vincent Décor,  I came upon a pretty obvious realization that I hadn’t really ever consciously thought of: I really love music, and I really love reviewing music. Because of this, I can tell you that while I enjoyed this album thoroughly, it is in no way groundbreaking, which is sure to send the “serious” music listeners scurrying to find the newest buzz band to blog about. As for the rest of us, we are left with an unassuming album that is infectiously fun to listen to.

I’d say we win.

The band that emerged from Seattle in 2006 to release the gorgeously grandiose Everything All the Time, have since changed locations, and with it they have subtly shifted their sound to something slightly more tangible. Now, with the 3^rd release, Infinite Arms, from Band of Horses, the group seems to have taken to heart their current home of South Carolina.

When listening to Infinite Arms, there are traces of the massive landscapes, painted by crashing percussion and soaring guitars, which made Band of Horses an instant indie favorite a few years ago. For the first time though, the band has worked collectively to craft 12 ear pleasing tracks. This can be heard in the use of harmonies and perfectly placed backing vocals throughout the album. The bands newest release celebrates heavy folk roots with their knack for creating compelling indie rock.

“Factory,” the opening track of the album, evokes old memories of Everything… by creating a larger than life sound, inviting a strings arrangement to carry the song from start to finish. Ben Bridwell, lead singer and only remaining original member of the band, evokes sentimental tenderness with echoing vocals reminiscent of Jim James of My Morning Jacket. Horns only add to the enthralling orchestration of a song that doesn’t quite match up to “The First Song,” though it does deserve a runner-up award for the group’s strongest album opener to date.

Once again, the band shows glimpses of their immense talent for blending Americana and indie on the albums single, “Laredo.” The guitars triumph through the speakers as Bridwell soothes the listener into an entrancing and inviting chorus. Fans who prefer the debut, Everything… over the bands 2^nd effort, Cease To Begin, will most likely swoon over this track, which could sit comfortably in the middle of the bands first release.

The beautifully somber “Evening Kitchen” highlights Infinite Arms most heart wrenching song. Bridwell and backup vocalists emote frailty as they painfully muster lyrics, “For me, this bottle of wine/Is to slow down my mind/And forget the things I knew.” I mean really, who hasn’t felt like this at one point or another??

Other tracks such as “Blue Beard” and “Older” show off their love of folk and country, sounding a lot like The Band, rather than Band of Horses. “Dilly,” is an incredibly catchy piece of indie pop. Happy keys and harmonies accentuate the albums most clear-cut pop gem.

Bridwell derives much of his talent from his beard. True fact.

Ultimately, Infinite Arms has something to offer all listeners. Remnants of the band that gave us huge arrangements such as “The Funeral” can still be found, while at the same time heading more in the direction of straightforward indie folk. Of course, the reason Band of Horses is so successful in their changes in sound and tone is that Bridwell and company are extremely gifted songwriters. Even when writing a song that any other band might make sound average, the group is unique in the scope and heart that they can bring to the table. Simply put, Band of Horses can pretty much travel in any musical direction they please. They are just that good.

Those unfamiliar with shoegaze should probably be made aware of some staples of the subgenre. Generally, heavy effects create a drone of distorted guitar, working cohesively with vocals that act as another instrument in order to accentuate the melody lost in the fuzz. The lyrics of such groups tend to border on the side of melodrama, speaking of heartbreak, loss and uncertainty. When measured by these standards, Makaras Pen, the Buffalo, New York-based band fit quite well within the genre on their self-titled debut album.

This is not to be confused though; Makaras Pen are nowhere near as self-deprecating as any number of contemporary emo groups that could be mentioned. There are no cheap, emotional ploys used to grab the listener’s attention. Instead, the band relies on their extensive knowledge of shoegaze and their long-standing friendship to convey true sentiment. Added to the plethora of comfort and familiarity within the group is the twist of including touches of aggressive indie rock to the mix. Lead singer, Emma Willis, offers sensitive and heartfelt vocals to sad yet hopeful lyrics. The spacey ambiance created by the wailing effects of the guitar (provided by Doug White and Jon Nemi), solidifies the forward motion of each song.

Album opener, “Currents,” makes itself immediately accessible by offering upbeat, 80’s style gloom pop to the high register of Willis. Guitars strum, vocals over-dub and drums drive the song ever forward. When the chorus kicks in, the music slows to a head bob-inducing pace, due in large part to the heavy distortion layered on top of everything else that is going on.

“Falling Deeper” opens with a similarly gloomy intro, but finds a lighter note in which to present the chorus. The 80’s feel is heavy, punctuated by the laser-like effects of a somber guitar. Willis contributes to the cheerless tone with lyrics, “Words we shared they seem so faded/What’s said between us dies within us anyway.” Despite this, Willis’ delicate, warm vocals keep the song from reaching full-blown melodramatic levels.

Throughout the listen, the one word that comes to mind most frequently is consistency. While this is generally a positive for most bands, it hurts Makaras Pen a bit. The vocals of Willis, the spacey effects of the guitars and the largely grave nature of the album can feel too measured and predictable to command the listener’s complete attention.

What Makaras Pen has done with the release of their self-titled album is contribute to the recent development that has involved bands beginning to make shoegaze relevant once more. Since fading from the public eye in the early nineties due to the emergence of grunge, groups such as M83, Silversun Pickups and Broken Social Scene have borrowed from the lost genre, dubbing a new movement known as “nu-gaze.” The newest album of this movement is utterly listenable, bound together by Makaras Pen’s mastery of the genre. Of course, the one problem the group faces is keeping the songs from blurring together. As the album moves further along, some listeners may grow weary of the persistently downtrodden mood that accompanies most of the tracks. Overall though, Makaras Pen delivers a well produced, inviting and genuinely interesting album that should have listener’s looking back in the past, as well as to the future, to the far-from-dead genre that is shoegaze.