Even on their debut, These New Puritans had an impressive sound that seemed too complex to be performed by four people. The indie sound armed with vast, eclectic instrumentation made 2008’s Beat Pyramid a particularly promising debut, but it was hardly expected that they would make such a leap forward. Their sophomore effort, Hidden, recalls the progression Silverchair made from a more guitar based rock band to a more low key, experimental one, except instead of over the course of three albums, it happened with one. The guitar fueled moments of Pyramid are gone here, with brass, woodwinds, and piano taking the forefront. Despite this radical change, These New Puritans still sound like themselves, their trademark dark melodies still in tact. Hidden shows These New Puritans as somehow both far more epic and far less pretentious than even the last few Muse records.

Vat iz ze hidden image?

Lead songwriter and vocalist Jack Barnett and co. juxtapose organic and electronic sounds so well all across Hidden that you hardly even notice the first time you hear it. The atmosphere is looming and seductive, but is never overwhelming, much like The XX’s self titled debut last year. Unlike it, however, Hidden seems to have the undercurrent of a noir film score, which is divided into songs that are re-cut and formatted into a more rock-friendly structure. Songs like We Want War, which makes seven minutes fly by way too quickly, displays this all too well, with cleverly placed breaks and random sound effects, and makes the song itself feel as if it’s barely keeping afloat in the massive score.

One of the great things about Hidden is that with the wide array of instruments used, there are so many moments where you can’t quite put your finger on what instrument you’re hearing. “Is that.. a bassoon? A harpischord? ….a triangle?” George Barnett’s percussion in particular is remarkable, on Attack Music he’s keeping a beat while clattering on whatever the hell he wants, as warped synths, a choir, and a sharpening blade (one of the random sound effects mentioned earlier, a lot of them repeat themselves throughout the album) lead the bizarrely followable carnival-like melody. His clever drumming also backs  the choir as they take the lead in Orion’s multiple sinister hooks.

Sometimes the business in the music almost resembles a sound collage; Both Fire-Power and Drum Courts – Where Corals Lie’s peaks boast somehow melodic cacophonies with everything hitting its stride at once, before each element falls away one by one, and all that’s left is a fading single sound before the next kicks in. The brief instrumentals, Canticle, and opener Time Xone, are pure score and serve as a breather (or in Time Xone’s case, the proverbial calm before the storm) in the midst of These New Puritan’s unique brand of intensity.

Careful, the two on the left are totally checking out your junk

Hidden is a deep, atmospheric album that has quite a lot to reveal over repeated listens. It’s also quick and with a good enough flow to encourage repeated listening, making the already fascinatingly sharp instrumentation even more inviting for analysis. These New Puritans have taken chamber pop to the next level, much like Neutral Milk Hotel and the Arcade Fire did before them. All in all, it’s an incredibly impressive and original effort that deserves all the praise it gets.

Yes, even the “first masterpiece of the 2010s” that have been spreading like wildfire this month.

While not an unworthy album by any means, 2006’s At War with the Mystics marked the first time that a Flaming Lips album did not surpass its predecessor in some way (okay, so maybe Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots didn’t top the Soft Bulletin, but it’s arguably in the same league). So it comes as no surprise that Embryonic, their twelfth full length studio release, is a sharp turn away from the pop inflections they implemented on the last three efforts. What is surprising, however, is just how impenetrable it is. In its first few spins, Embryonic is flat out intimidating; free formed structures, hidden melodies, and echo slathered vocals buried in noisy, relentless waves of psychedelia. A very demanding experience, but an incredibly rewarding one as well.

Stop putting all this shit on my face! Let - LET GO OF ME!!

In fact, the only sense in which the title is fitting is that it describes how the record is constantly fleshing itself out upon repeated listens, revealing more and more of itself to the listener each time, and it takes quite a few. Embryonic is, after all, a different creature every time you hear it; you are constantly discovering new sounds. A great example is the ingenious static about two and a half minutes into The Sparrow Looks Up At the Machine, which surely had more people than just me checking their cell phones.

A dark tone is set immediately with the Lips’ unmistakable yelping guitars quickly being overtaken by cold, mechanical bleeps, clanging drums, and Michael Ivins’ firm, buzzing bass in the opening Convinced of the Hex. The noted influences of Joy Division and Miles Davis are immediately recognizable; moodiness recalling the former’s final studio album Closer is abundant, as is the spacey experimentation that Bitches Brew so famously indulged. These influences are harnessed expertly, spliced with sounds all throughout the Flaming Lips’ twenty-three year catalogue, to construct an intricate and heavy atmosphere. Even on the most playful song,  I Can Be a Frog, featuring Karen O’s adorable animal noise responses (which will probably only exacerbate the severe crushes so many indie boys harbor), the underlying sinister mood never quite goes away.

The drums are way up in the mix, which pays off quite well on the more uptempo tracks. Kliph Scurlock’s drumming here has been compared with John Bonham numerous times, and it’s easy to see why; the blasting snares and cymbals are so powerful (particularly on Aquarius Sabotage, See the Leaves, and Your Bats) that they propel these songs nearly on their own.

Another noticeable difference is in the lyrics. Starting with Clouds Taste Metallic, the band has gradually shed their deliberately bizarre shell of strange metaphors and amusing song titles (Psychiatric Exploration of the Fetus with Needles being a personal favorite) to reveal rather deep and soul searching thoughts tinged with sadness, and here they’re not only more direct than ever in places, but particularly grim. Wayne Coyne’s trademark quirkiness is gone from his vocal delivery, particularly in the aforementioned opener where he proclaims in an almost dead voice, “I believe in nothing, and you’re convinced of the hex,”  or “Free to be evil, free to believe, free to be slaves now, to this silver machine” from the simultaneously warming and chilling Sagittarius Silver Announcement. Though they don’t deviate terribly from the character of the rest of the album, Evil and If are the only tracks bearing any semblance to the group’s more recent work, showing Coyne listlessly musing over the impossibility of time travel as a scant mask for regret and a dichotomy of a person’s ability to treat others, respectively.

Embryonic will be a daunting challenge, particularly for more recent fans expecting more of the pop sensibility from the last three albums. Those who are willing to brave it, however, are in for a rich, rewarding record that, at least in this reviewer’s mind, unseats Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion as the best psychedelic album of the year.

“We’re getting older,” declares Dredg vocalist Gavin Hayes on Mourning This Morning; and given the impressive progression with their new album The Pariah, The Parrot, The Delusion,  the line perhaps best sums it up. On their latest opus, Dredg has managed to meld the sweeping and adventurous traits of El Cielo with Catch Without Arms‘ accessibility. Creative growth this rewarding is always expected (or at least hoped for) from bands known to put out albums with no less than three, four, even five years in between, but is not fulfilled nearly as often.

Where's the bird's top hat? Jesus, Dredg... I thought you were cool.

The first thing you notice about this album is how tight the musicianship has become, particularly how well Mark Engles‘ guitar and Hayes’ harmonizing compliment each other – not to mention that this album easily features Hayes’ best vocals yet. On Ireland he switches effortlessly from gently crooning the verse and pre-chorus to passionately belting out the chorus, and his vocal hook on the single Saviour is sure to get butchered countless times in cars, showers, and wherever else a fan might be compelled to burst into song (I was never good at guessing places like this while watching Family Feud).

Immediately, from the first notes of the opener Pariah, you can tell that they’ve lost none of the melody displayed on their previous effort, 2005’s Catch Without Arms. It took the band in an interesting direction, despite the backlash from fans over the pop influence; perhaps even more than previous releases, it answered the question “If Muse and The Mars Volta could have a baby, what would it sound like?”

After the luring piano-driven melancholy of the opener (and that fantastic chorus!), we’re treated to one of the many instrumental interludes spread throughout the album, which account for a great deal of the seemingly staggering but easily digestible 18-track-listing. Drunk Slide is a highly intriguing, slightly menacing piece which, while sounding nothing like either of the songs that sandwich it (the other being Ireland), manages to ensure a seamless transition. Transition is the proverbial name of the game with this album – the songs, as different as many of them are, flow so smoothly that the hour long running time slips by with suprising quickness. The sudden despondency of the second interlude, Stamp of Origin: Pessimistic leading so unpretentiously into the dirty-blues beat driven first half of Light Switch, is truly a testament to the band’s strong writing, as is the clever justaposition of an alternating, unique time signature with a poppy chorus in Gathering Pebbles. On paper, The Pariah, The Parrot, The Delusion should be an absolute mess; a funk laced, syncopated song like Mourning This Morning (showcasing Dino Campanella’s impressive, criminally underrated drumming) sharing an album with the aggressive post-grunge of Saviour should not work. But it does, and so smoothly in fact that it sounds as though it shouldn’t be any other way. That is the beauty of Dredg’s new effort, and frankly it’s what every progressive rock album should accomplish.

I don’t even need to get into my love for The Mars Volta with you all again. Sure their review for the Ventura Theatre show wasn’t all gold, but it was on the fault of the mighty Volta. And while I’ve been listening to it for a few weeks now, today marks the release of their 5^th studio album, Octahedron.

It’s been called their acoustic album, but “there’s electricity throughout it!” as they band has quoted. By acoustic, they mean that it is mainly a chill guitar playing the whole time, with the majority of the album taking a more structure approach than usual.

The lineup this time around remains at Omar Rodriguez- Lopez on lead axe, Cedric Bixler-Zavala with the nutty mic antics, Ikey going insane on the keyboards, Juan Alderate playing bass with that badass Mexican flag on his amp, my homeboy Thomas Pridgen kicking ass but showing restraint on the drums, Omars brother Marcel on the synth and percussion, rounded out with John Frusciante of the Red Hot Chili Peppers on the guitar (mainly in the studio though).

Cedric and Omar

Personally, I didn’t like the album at first, but after a day or two it started to grow on me. After about two weeks I figured my favorite tracks to be highlighted (or is it highlit?).

The intro track, Since We’ve Been Wrong, sets the initial tone for the claim to this album being an acoustic album. The guitar play is gorgeous, both acoustic and electric. What’s more, once Thomas kicks in towards the end with the drums, the synth joins in to lead to an epic conclusion of the first track. Mixed with sultry and strong lyrics, this song made it to the top of my favorites for this album.

Halo of Nembutals, the third track was a great song all around , but really got me hype with the drum outro at about 4:52, mixed with Ikey getting a beautiful and disorganized piano exit of his own.

Cotopaxi, one of the singles and the sixth track on the album was a big surprise to me, because this song starts and finishes hard, and obviously is well outside the bounds of acoustic traits. It’s also the perfect partner to get your heart racing, after the calm ending of With Twilight As My Guide. It also has a kick ass video taking place (I believe) south of the border. Take a look.

Finally, my favorite track that sticks to me every day for the last two weeks whilst driving in my car has been the second track, Teflon. I don’t know if it’s the smooth echoing guitars in the beginning, or the strange drum timing of the song, but its addictive. The chorus has been ringing in my head, and paints a simple but powerful picture.

Let the wheels burn,

Let the wheels burn,

Stack the tires to the neck,

With a body inside.

The simple chorus and title of the song I believe are allusions to certain political officials, as the word Teflon is usually clamped to political officials who are not taken seriously, with a tendency for their criticism to be glue less.

Overall, The Mars Volta still has that edge that I’ve loved over the years, and with this acoustic album, they re-solidify their place in the Progressive Rock game. Go out and get the album, and let it grow on you. I promise after about a week, you’ll be singing choruses too.

Until next time my friends,

~Flak