The Verge: Monument

A personal note: I recently celebrated a birthday, putting me firmly on the wrong side of 25. Usually, I don’t feel (or act) much older, but there are certain experiences that make me feel my age. None is more telling than when music you grew up with sees an underground rebirth.

For background: The soundtrack of my high school years was dominated by the misunderstood and much-maligned genre of emo. Emotional hardcore - with it’s mid-80s DC birth - had seen a few iterations by the time South Florida high schoolers like myself were listening to it at the turn of the millenium. Rites of Spring begat Braid which begat the Triple Crown, Vagrant, and Deep Elm bands we listened to: Jimmy Eat World, Brand New, Hot Rod Circuit, Northstar. We jumped ship as Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance found mainstream success: by then, emo had reached the pinnacle of self-parody. So it goes.

With that said, I didn’t expect another wave of emo less than a decade after driving around town blasting Tell All Your Friends. But here we are, with a major proponent of a return to Cap’n Jazz styled-emo from the genre’s birthplace, with a very-DC moniker: Monument.


Monument’s full length debut, Goes Canoeing, was released last month, and it’s packed with 10 songs that reveal promise for the future, yet are as nostalgic as reading from an old yearbook.

Dueling vocals from Gabe Marquez and Dan Doggett bleed with emotion: heartache, yearning, and other emo telltales. The four-piece, rounded out by drummer Brandon Korch and guitarist Anton Kropp, firmly navigate the post-hardcore landscape: fleet-fingered riffs, an unrelenting bass engine, and rollicking, explosive drumming.

The songs alternate between non-stop moshers (“Roots Run Deep,” “Diamond Age”) and loud-quiet-loud anthems (“Glass House,” “Breakfast”). These songs beg for fists-in-the-air sing-alongs, a trait shared by the best emo, regardless of wave.

Goes Canoeing proves that the underpinnings of emo will never go out of style. Monument performs at a record release party at the hole in the wall Hole in the Sky on December 10.

EP Review: Munchi - Murda Sound

Covering music on the leading edge is hard work. Between filtering through recommendations by artbiters of culture and unearthing new sounds and styles by happenstance, there are plenty of ways to go out about it. However, it usually isn't delivered fully-formed, swaddled like an infant on the stoop of an orphanage. But with the discovery of Munchi, that's what it feels like.

Munchi, the Dominican in Rotterdam, nearly as synonymous with moombahton as Dave Nada, has arrived. But like TGRI's Artist of the Year, it's clear that Munchi is far more than a producer of one style, and his debut EP, Murda Sound, proves that beyond the shadow of a doubt.

Murda Sound is a six song EP, released today on T&A Records. Throughout, Munchi's range of influence (hinted at on his various moombahton releases) is even more impressive than expected.

The EP kicks off with the electro-dancehall of "Shottas" (featuring Mr. Lexx) and it's club edit, propelled by an uneven, syncopated beat and the ubiquitous toast "wake up and tell the people."

"Toma Essa Pora" is a Baltimore club meets baile funk banger, with chopped up samples that are juke-like in their intensity and urgency. The song even includes the oft-sample "Darkest Light" by the Lafayette Afro Rock Band (ed. note: thanks to Cam Jus for identifying this).

The club fest continues on the title track, which lives up to it's name. The song starts with the mind-shattering take on club that we've heard from Nadastrom and Steve Starks. But halfway through, things get much more intense, with B-more breaks and some sinister bass blasts. This is probably the darkest, most futuristic take on club since Dave Nada's "Apocalypse Theme."

The back-end of the EP finds Munchi flexing his mellow side. "Hope" is a down-tempo R&B groove that devolves into smoothbahton, again, with a vocal sample reminiscent of juke. "Madre, no llores" is some purple dubstep that might actually bring a tear to your eye.

Munchi is a jack of all trades, and master of all. Murda Sound is the first proper look at a producer ready to make moombahton and dancehall, club and dubstep all his own. Throughout, Munchi's trademark whistle sample announces his arrival like "The Farmer in the Dell" announced Omar on The Wire. And while Omar went after drug dealers, Munchi's coming for other producers. My advice for them? "You come at the king, you best not miss."

FIVE OUT OF FIVE STARS.

The Drop: The Fall of Moombahton

At the risk of saturating your blog feed with posts about moombahton, we couldn't let this release go unmentioned. David Heartbreak's "Fall of Moombahton" compilation is the spiritual successor to the "Summer of Moombahton" set assembled by partner-in-crime Munchi. And it's just as comprehensive, if more focused on where the genre is going than where it's been.

Don't get it wrong: the title of the two-disc mix is a little wordplay. Moombahton isn't going anywhere. Think of it more of a "the King is dead, long live the King" type of thing. The music on this mix (representative of the entire scene) is just too diverse, exciting and fun to have jumped the shark in just eight months.

If the Moombahton Massive was a twisted family reunion, "Fall of Moombahton" plays out like the home movies: the gang's all here. Tracks by Dave Nada, A-Mac, Munchi, Heartbreak, Cam Jus, Sabo, and Melo are sprinkled through the set, along with boombahchero boys DJ Orion and Audio 1. Among the highlights from the masters is the metallic bass of the Yeah! Edit of Sam Tiba's "Barbie Weed" and the tribal-cumbia of DJ Reaganomics on "E Boi."

Proving that a little editing goes a long way, the hottest peak time track here is Ckrono's tweak of Congrorock's remix of Swedish House Mafia's fist-pumper "One." On this track (and throughout the compilation), moombahton's house roots are showing. And it works.

Grab the mix while you can. Mad Decent is firmly behind the movement, and I don't know if the Internet can handle it.

Album Review: Ra Ra Rasputin - Ra Ra Rasputin

Synth pop. New wave. Dance punk. Three related, overlapping genres that, among other things, share an emphasis on the melding of the natural and the artificial. A lot of bands dabble in this territory; successful bands find the right balance.

DC stalwarts Ra Ra Rasputin have perfected their formula on their long-awaited debut. After developing as a live entity over the last few years, the band recorded their self-titled record, leaning heavily on the "dance" portion of their "dance punk" formulation.

The albums opens with a razor-sharp synth line and some David Byrne-styled vocals on "Stereocutter." Swirls and swells of synthesizer dominate "Neon Scthye," a song propelled by full low-end bass. This one-two punch sets the album's tone.

Densely layered, lush compositions balance the cold, monotonic vocals of Brock Boss throughout the album. Something that stands out and differentiates the album from the band's live performances is the house vibe. The band is unafraid to jam over an extended loop for spacey dance breaks; "Fit Fixed" devolves into a seductive house jam that will be a lot of fun live.

Compared to the rest of the album, "The Day Of" is a bit more aggressive, with plenty of cow bell and more emphasis on Patrick Kigongo's guitar. It also features a revealing chorus that says a lot about where the band is coming from, musically: "I've got love for you if you survived in the 80s." (This performance doesn't show the band's trademark energy, but I suspect it's because they're playing to an empty newsroom and not a crowd.)

The standout track is "Electricity Through the Heart," due in large part to the addition of vocals provided by Anna Rozzi. The song is reminiscent of art-punks Pretty Girls Make Graves; it's available for free on the band's website.

Comparisons to contemporaries Cut Copy, Hot Chip, and Delorean are apt, but the sonic godfather of Ra Ra Rasputin is Depeche Mode. The band has the neon glow of the 80s locked down, with enough modern touches to make a well-worn style sound fresh and vibrant. Unfortunately, the album is missing the hooks that put the "pop" in "synth pop." Still, it's an impressive, well-produced debut from a promising DC band.

Three out of five stars.

Catch Ra Ra Rasputin at the Black Cat on October 9th for their joint record release party with Casper Bangs.

The Verge: Zola Jesus

For the last year or so, there has been a renaissance in lo-fi music, across genre lines. Whether making surf pop (Best Coast, Dum Dum Girls), chillwave (Toro y Moi, Neon Indian) or witch house (Salem, Mater Suspiria Vision), there is a premium on the bedroom recorded, four-track tape sound.


Nika Roza Danilova is a Wisconsin-born singer-songwriter who performs as Zola Jesus. Last year, she released two such bedroom albums, New Amsterdam and The Spoils, and garnered acclaim from the usual suspects. And for good reason - buried beneath fuzz, static and gothic drone is a talented songwriter with some serious pipes. The music is dark and mournful with melodies that remind me of Bat for Lashes.

Danilova cites Throbbing Gristle among her influences, and on her first two albums, it shows. She's not afraid to push things into industrial, dissonant territory. There is an ambient uneasiness throughout, and with her music's goth feel, it works. And while key elements of this style continue on this year's Stridulum, she's taken major creative steps forward, breaking out of the lo-fi box with style.

Throughout Stridulum (and the double EP of the same name), the focus is on Daniloa's operatic vocals. Minor-key synthesizers waft over strings and piano melodies, stark and simple drums drone in the background, but everything operates in service of song. The album opens, appropriately, with "Night," a mournful love song that is tinged with loss.

"Trust Me" and "I Can't Stand" tread on similar sonic and lyrical ground, with strong results. The 808-like rhythm on "Sea Talk" harks back to earlier material, while the emphasis on vocal melody is definitely in line with the rest of the album; the "Poltergeist"-themed clip is yet another fantastic piece of video art.

With Stridulum, Zola Jesus is ready to burst from the bedroom to the big time. The prolific songwriter is back with yet another EP next month (Valusia). She opens for The XX and Warpaint at a sold-out 9:30 Club show on Tuesday, and then she'll be touring Europe through November. And next time she rolls through town, she'll be headlining.

Album Review: Salem - King Night

Due to the nature of how we listen to music in 2010, there are few surprises left. Before an act releases a proper album (a medium whose time may very well be up), they are dissected and analyzed like a frog on a 9th grade biology table. And just as sure as that frog has sat on its last lily pad, musicians are rarely afforded the chance to make a second impression.

On their debut LP King Night, Salem doesn't seem to care about that. Or about anything else.

If you've heard them by now, you know what to expect. Chopped-and-screwed drum machines, epic synthesizer melodies, spooky moans and drugged-out raps. Salem's distinct brand of drag is what sets them apart from countless witch house acts, more eager to insert triangles and crosses into their names than to make interesting music. But if you've heard Yes I Smoke Crack or their symbiotic remixes of Gucci Mane and came away unimpressed or turned off, King Night won't change your mind.

Throughout the album, Salem gets deeper, darker, and more intense than ever before. For music that revels in drone, it is addictive in its dynamism. The title track opens the album, with bits and pieces of "I Love You" and "O Holy Night" fused to minimalistic trap beats and the echos and feedback of a mournful melody. "Asia," the second single (I use that term lightly) off the album continues the death march with a drum corps' intensity. The faux-snuff clip picks up where "Skullcrush" left off.

The heavily processed vocals of Jack Donoghue could pass for Gucci on songs like "Sick," "Trapdoor," and "Tair." John Holland and Heather Marlatt stick to singing (again, loosely), exchanging groans and whispers on "Release the Boar" and "Frost." On the latter, Marlatt's vocals waft over footwork-inspired beats and waves of synths that hold - wait - is that a sense of "hope" amid all this darkness?

Arguably the group's strongest song, "Redlights" is back yet again; the shifty, stuttering anthem is revamped for The Big Time and sounds great. "Traxx" plods along with an industrial sample that can't help but evoke the "Law & Order" sound, but with off-kilter percussion that again references footwork. By the time the last jangly guitar chord drones on closer "Killer," the listener is left with a sense of foreboding dread that they can't quite put their finger on.

Salem knows what they are and what they do best: gothic trap music with a hint of mystery (even if unfortunate interviews and even more unfortunate live performances have lifted the curtain a bit). King Night succeeds by being a pitch-perfect set of upsetting mood music. Even if that's what you expected.

FOUR OUT OF FIVE STARS.

Thoughts on "Boardwalk Empire"

[Editor's note: I'm a week behind, but enjoy!]

Two of my favorite genres are the gangster drama and the political thriller. Central to each is the demonstration of the drastic measures taken on the quest for power. When combined, these twin quests are often examined in a clearer light. From the New York Machine in Gangs of New York to the ethnic-urban gangster politics of “Brotherhood,” I can’t get enough of this intoxicating crossbreed.

HBO’s “Boardwalk Empire” is a (non-mini) series about Prohibition Era gangsters and politicians, and the murky line between them. Consider the pedigree: Created by the finest “Sopranos” scribe short of David Chase (Terence Winter), with a pilot directed by the most celebrated filmmaker of his generation, Martin Scorsese, working right in his wheelhouse. For me (and plenty of others), it’s a no-brainer.

I relished each of the 72 minutes of the pilot episode - this much Scorsese doesn’t come for free. The director’s trademarks abound: sharp angles, well-placed quick cuts, track zooms, dialogue over freeze frames. A gun fight that jumps and jerks with violent urgency, and a sense of humor out of an Abbot and Costello routine. Scorsese is a master of film whose well-practiced parlor tricks still get me, after all these years.

Like in “Brotherhood,” the main characters are ostensibly on different sides of the law. For Steve Buscemi’s Enoch “Nucky” Thompson and Michael Pitt’s Jimmy Darmody, however, things are not that clear cut. Thompson is the treasurer and behind-the-scenes power broker of Atlantic City; Darmody is a fresh-faced, slightly-hobbled veteran of the Great War who wants in on the action. First off: How good is Steve Buscemi? This role seems built for an actor with such a nuanced range. And Michael Pitt, playing with the emptiness behind his blue eyes, is no slouch with a character that could go either way (a talent also exploited in Michael Haneke’s US version of Funny Games).

The pilot only hints at the varied landscape and rich, interesting characters of the Boadwalk Empire. As Nucky’s flame Lucy, Paz de la Huerta is an original Jersey Shore denizen: foul-mouthed and sex-crazed. Michael Stuhlbarg’s Arnold Rothstein is the opposite of his nebbish titular character in A Serious Man: calm, collected, self-assured, and oozing power. Rothstein may prove to be as tough and adversary as Michael Shannon’s stone-jawed G-man Nelson Van Alden. Perfectly cast character actors from Scorsese films past and similar material round out a solid cast. Shout-out to Michael K. Williams (“Omar’s comin!”), shown briefly as Chalky White, the town’s major black player.

Scorsese is, as always, a master of suspense. You may know the whack is coming, but the “when” and the “how” are always in doubt. It turns out that bootlegging in the 20s is to drugs in 50s as the central internecine conflict between gangsters. As in The Godfather, those who doubt the next step are often left behind.

Like “Brotherhood,” “Boardwalk Empire” exists at the triple point of organized crime, politics and family, but with Terence Winter and Martin Scorsese (and soon, Allen Coulter) at the helm. The sets, costumes and props are immersive in the extreme; you worry that the high budget will eventually doom this show, no matter how rave the reviews and strong the pedigree. Still, this is a perfect pilot, whetting the appetite with a hint of things to come and seeds of story lines sowed.

A key scene between Buscemi and Pitt hints at the central question of this and the director’s earlier works (chiefly Goodfellas and Gangs of New York):

Darmody: “All I want is an opportunity.”
Thompson: “This is America, ain’t it? Who the fuck’s stopping ya?”

Irish, Italian, or Jew - Americans are all immigrants, grasping at the American dream. And whether with the briefcase or with the shotgun (to paraphrase Omar), these guys are going to get it.