Ari Up
Dread More Dan Dead
(Collision Records)

C

Website: www.ariup.com

Death Cab for Cutie
Plans
(Atlantic)

A

Website: www.deathcabforcutie.com

A major-label deal, a namecheck on The OC, a side project that sells 600,000 copies — are these the things indie nerd-pop bands are made of? Not usually, but latecomers to DCFC won’t give a shit about street cred. All that matters is that Plans is very, very good, a blueprint full of the fine detail, communal spaces and private places that should make up an album. In here you will find hopeful, wide-eyed refrains (opener Marching Bands of Manhattan), plangent testifying (Someday You Will Be Loved) and expressive, ambitious pop arrangements (Different Names for the Same Thing). This last tune may set off some fans, as it begins with an acoustic piano overture but then morphs into a multi-tracked guitar and drums freak-out. Set against the plaintive acoustic lament of its follower, I Will Follow You Into the Dark, it’s a realization of the many possibilities of DCFC.

John Kendle

Jimmie Dale Gilmore
Come On Back
(Rounder Records)

B+



Website: www.rounder.com

Texan Jimmie Dale Gilmore has created a touching tribute to his late father, Brian, on Come On Back. The Lubbock native articulates beautifully the root emotion found in a set of songs that he considers the soundtrack of his youth. Classic honky tonk nuggets such as Saginaw, Michigan; Standin’ on the Corner; Train Of Love and I’m Movin’ On shine under Gilmore’s indelible personal stamp, pushing them again forward into their rightful place of heavy respect. These aren’t rote copies, either. Gilmore’s distinctive high and lonesome warble has always been for specific (good) tastes, and it’s this aspect that works over and over again for the long-serving singer. At this stage of his career, it’s nice to hear Gilmore enjoying singing what can only be considered his ground-zero country music influences. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Jeff Monk

Longwave
There’s A Fire
(RCA))

A

For a band that only formed in 2000, Brooklyn’s Longwave has what it takes to move quickly up the ranks of even the heaviest of heroic orchestral-pop practitioners. Led by the honey-voiced Steve Schiltz, Longwave lays down intricate songs that dodge easy categorization. Arrangements shift effortlessly from driving crescendos to whisper-quiet sweeps, leading one to believe these cats not only know what they’re doing but also have the patience to let it out slowly. Producer John Leckie has handled a few serious musos in his time, and there’s no mistaking his deft touch on these dozen jewels. There’s still room for huge-sounding pop like this, especially for those who have a longer attention span than is required for the current crop of post-post-post-punk copyists. There’s a Fire will surely warm up the cool fall evenings to come.

Jeff Monk

Cleverly combining pop histrionics with bluegrass instrumentation seems a good fit for Nickel Creek on their third outing. The trio (with some help from a few like-minded pals) has created an album full of unexpected twists and turns that will likely enervate true bluegrass fans. Chris Thile is the obvious chief here and wrote the bulk of the 14 tracks on WSTFD? Fiddler/vocalist Sara Watkins weighs in mightily on only a few tracks, and those are the songs that really stand out on this album. Her loose cover of Dylan’s Tomorrow Is a Long Time is poignant and sweet, while her own Anthony beats with the heart of a schoolgirl’s first crush. Bets are on that Watkins will be the first Creeker to ink a solo deal. In the meantime, this album is a refreshing move away from the traditional.

Jeff Monk

Gone is the edge that characterized early OLP, replaced by a calculated musicianship that produces tightly crafted melodic-rock tunes. The 12 tracks on this album (which also contains a making-of DVD) are impressive in terms of depth of sound and production (thanks, Bob Rock), but a certain depth of character just evades Raine and co. despite the frontman’s politically conscious lyrics. The best track here is Love and Trust, but those looking for the hungry assault of Naveed should be prepared for a delivery that continues where 2002’s Gravity left off. Some of us just need to accept that OLP is ageing a little gracefully when it should be kicking and screaming into that good night. The group reportedly wrote 43 songs for this much-anticipated follow-up, and it would be curious to hear just what didn’t make it onto this overly calculated album.
Mike Warkentin

This short 40-minute release from Vancouver-based electronic punk rockers Primes is a journey into raw disco dance. The relatively new duo formed in early 2004 and quickly produced a self-released tour album in November of that year. It sold out in less than a month. The combined skills of Jack Duckworth of the punk band A Luna Red and electro DJ Michelle Synnot lead to aggressive rants about the usual complaints — politics, sex and money. They like to scream, quote Hunter S. Thompson and doubtlessly wear black constantly. On Love Life Trash, Synnot’s distorted voice squeals over sounds of scraping metal and whizzing bullets. Whatever it Takes is a danceable foot stomper, and while Duckworth screeches like the best of them, his voice doesn’t get annoying. Fans of Atari Teenage Riot, Autechre and Nitzer Ebb might enjoy some ear blasting from these howlers.
Shannon Ander

This is the first solo album from Victim’s Family leader Ralph Spight. The Freak Accident is music made by freaks, for freaks. Spight invited his musician friends to help out a little with his many spastic musical styles. This album is not as crazy as his jazz-core roots might suggest, but it still has plenty diversity. The first two cuts are gritty, Replacements-style booze rock. Free to be Freaks is demented surf rock complete with theremin, and Spring Fever is a Violent Femme-ish love song. With a funky organ line on Sacred Cow, and then a glorious piano ballad called You’re the Reason, this alb is full of surprises. Nevertheless, Spight’s voice and off-kilter lyrics pull everything together into a mellow acid flashback.
Ashley McCurdy