Tapes 'n Tapes deliver on promise with 'Walk it off'
By CHRIS TALBOTT
Associated Press Writer

Tapes 'n Tapes, "Walk it off" (XL)

You had to feel sorry for Tapes 'n Tapes.

The 2006 debut of the Minneapolis quartet was a series of quick jabs to the ribs, aquiver with pure energy and joy. "The Loon," with its infectious opener "Just Drums," was the best kind of rock 'n' roll — simple, urgent, funny and chock full of juicy hooks big and small.

They were compared to Pavement and the Pixies, feted on the 'Net and hit the late night TV circuit. How to top such an eye-catching debut and keep that energy level at the red line?

The group chose producer Dave Fridmann, best known for his work with the Flaming Lips, to help with their all-important second album. His presence is palpable in the circumspect song structures, denser sound and a few fuzzy Lipsian strokes of psychedelia.

Overall, Tapes 'n Tapes sounds like a band very much aware that everyone is watching, and doesn't flub the moment. The band needed another collection of infectious songs to show it wasn't yet another one-and-done contender for our hearts in a time when great tunes seem hard to come by.

"Walk it off" isn't as light on its feet as "The Loon." It's full of complex ideas, introspective moments and more instrumental exploration. That doesn't mean it isn't as fun as their debut, however. It's an album made by players getting more confident in their skills and more willing to take chances.

Singer Josh Grier comes off like Stephen Malkmus' precocious nephew, all cocky good times and razor-sharp staccato from his guitar on "Hang them all" and "Headshock." And drummer Jeremy Hanson seems to benefit most from Fridmann's presence with an impressive array of textures and tempos like the slow country swing of "Say back something" or the five-speed fire of "Demon Apple."

CHECK THIS OUT: "Hang them all" is a jittery heart beat in your chest after an adrenaline rush. The song is full of pointed questions and dance-inducing guitar from Grier, but Matt Kretzmann's sinuous keys and Hanson's breakneck beat fight for attention street style.

iTunes find

"Love Vigilantes," Laura Cantrell
Traditional country singer Cantrell gets conceptual on her latest CD, "Trains and Boats and Planes," nine songs about what the title says (trucks, too), and how those modes of transportation tend to take loved ones away or drag them to the bottom of Lake Superior ("The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.") "Love Vigilante," a soldier's lament originally from New Order's "Low-Life" album, looks like an oddity, but it's a highlight. Dance beats are scrapped for a spare bluegrass arrangement, and Cantrell, who has a sweet, clear voice, pours it into the simple, sad melody.

Jim Kiest | 210SA Contributor

Nick Cave's dark, tortured spirit still reigns on "Dig, Lazarus, Dig"
By JOHN KOSIK
Associated Press Writer

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, "Dig, Lazarus, Dig" (Anti Records).

Age has done little to lighten Nick Cave's mood.

The singer-songwriter's first disc in four years, "Dig, Lazarus, Dig," provides another showcase for his provocative storytelling and serpentine baritone.

Cave and his band blend dark atmosphere with simple dusty, bluesy rock — and his voice continues to slither its way through the shadows, conjuring creepy images.

The boldness of the title track questions whether Lazarus even wanted to be raised from the dead, and the idea becomes clear: Did we ask for what the religious establishment thrusts at us?

Cave continually touches on stark ideas of religion, class distinctions and the state of the world with deeply poetic lyrics and remarkable vocal restraint — raising his scattered outbursts to another plain entirely.

That's not to say Cave doesn't know how to have a rockin' good time — "Today's Lesson," ''Lie Down Here (& Be My Girl)" and "Albert Goes West" each swing — but even these tracks contain a measure of poignancy.

The rousing and angry "We Call Upon The Author" demands answers for the ills of the world ("What we once thought we had, we didn't, and what we have now will never be that way again. And we call upon the author to explain").

A weak moment may be hard to find — the lost-at-sea vibe of "Night of the Lotus Eaters," the longing of "Moonland" and "Jesus of the Moon," and the dreamy swagger of "Midnight Man" are each worthy of mention.

This is another wonderfully disturbing addition to Nick Cave's catalog.

CHECK THIS OUT: Evoking lonely desert sunsets, minimal guitar leads float over sparse acoustic guitar and organ on "Hold on to Yourself," where Cave forgoes ideas of trusting others, instead crooning for self-reliance and faith in ourselves.