Boy A

John Crowley's film Boy A is a masterwork of atmosphere and mood. Buoyed by the skillful cinematography of Rob Hardy, this is the type of film that draws in the viewer not with continuity of involving plots, but rather with pure emotion. Boy A is in reference to the label of Jack as a youngster who was sent to prison for the murder of a young girl. Part of the film is a flashback to the childhood friendship he has with Boy B in the case, which eventually leads to the murder of the girl. The other part of the film revolves around Jack as he deals with being released secretly back into society. With the help of his parole officer he finds a job, a friend and a girlfriend. The inevitable happens when his past is found out and the events afterward seem to fall too often into conventional territory. But this isn't a film about story so much as it is about mood. We feel emotional at Jack's character not necessarily because of his development and pitfull, but simply because the screen drips with it. The superb cast aids in this feeling and while the ending seems undeserved and hurried in a way, it doesn't take too much away from the power of the film.

3.5/5

Sunset Rubdown - Dragonslayer

Spencer Krug is a hard guy not to like. There is just something endearing in the man that makes his songs so likeable. He adds an extra pep that makes Wolf Parade just that little bit better. He’s the ying to Dan Bejar’s... well, Dan Bejar is kind of also a ying, but whatever he adds something to Swan Lake. While his yelpy vocals are at first off-putting overtime they grow on you, nagging at you until you can’t imagine the songs being sung in a different (I’ll refrain from saying better) voice. Through his different projects, Krug has crafted some top-notch and infectious indie tunes. Sunset Rubdown is no exception, and neither is their newest album Dragonslayer. Like other Krug offerings, this album isn’t immediately infectious. While many of the songs are certainly immediately catchy and likeable, many of the melodies grow on you subtly as you attempt to digest the, at times, lengthy compositions. Plus he attempts the difficult task of using the indie faux-pas decade of the 70's as a reference point; and since he succeeds we have all the more reason to like him. Everybody likes an underdog.

The refrain in the second half of the epic center piece "Black Swan" encapsulates the rest of the album perfectly. After the first half alternates somewhat awkwardly between brooding percussive verses and sudden bursts of distortion in the chorus, Krug and back up vocalist Camilla Wynne Ingr repeat the line, "My heart is a kingdom / The King is a heart / My heart is a kingdom / The King of Hearts." This type of clever wordplay is frequent throughout the album and this line in particular showcases the fairytale themes that reverberate around the stories in the record. Like a lot of Dragonslayer, "Black Swan" also features a meandering song structure that never necessarily moves from Point A to Point B but still maintains a sense of direction and organization. The ten minute epic album finale, "Dragon’s Lair", takes this template to extremes; and it’s all the better for it. Never building into any suspected climax, the song starts with a dark carnival piano line and strained vocals from Krug. The drums and guitar slowly fill out into a full out stomp, before quieting back down into a pitter-patter. The song changes tempo and a spacey keyboard line wails in the background for one more refrain before the album slowly closes out. Those keyboard lines are an important part of the overall sound of the album, especially that 70's vibe.

The keyboard, whether playing arpeggios on "Apollo and the Buffalo And Anna Anna Anna Oh!" or giving carnival-esque lines on the slow build of "Nightingale / December Song", is as integral to the music as Krug’s voice. While guitars, drums and other instruments (check out the tabla at the beginning of "Nightingale...") all play important roles, the album just seems to be lifted by the keyboard / piano lines. They also have the feel of the golden age of 70's prog, at times drifting into Emerson, Lake and Palmer territory ("Come and see the show!"). Krug is also smart to inject more modern practices, like expressionistic guitar stabs that flavour the female vocals on the militaristic stomp of the opener "Silver Moons". Elsewhere, Krug places a bit of a reggae guitar line at the beginning of "You Go On Ahead (Trumpet Trumpet II). Through this he manages to reference the 70's instead of living in the decade. While mixing the old with the new is far from original, especially in the present state of the indie community, when it’s done this well, who needs originality?

Perhaps more than any other album, Dragonslayer epitomizes Spencer Krug as an artist. It can be immediately be off-putting, but with time it grows on you. Upon the first few listens, I was trying to gain a feel for the album and something just wasn’t clicking. The songs were all impeccably crafted, but they weren’t settling in. Perhaps it was due to the thick storytelling; like I said, fairytales and such. Maybe, and probably more rightly, it was because Sunset Rubdown seem to make albums first and foremost, instead of songs. Albums are always harder to digest then singles (duh). Either way it wasn’t until a few days after my third or fourth listen, whilst standing at the empty cash register by myself, that the album started to click. As the store speakers quietly played Sheryl Crow in the background I began singing the refrain at the end of "Black Swan" to myself. Then it hit me and I slowly began to feel the urge to listen to the album again... and again. The subtle melodies began to make their way out of the woodwork and into my brain. I became more in tune with the music the fourth, fifth and sixth time around (naturally, I suppose.)

It certainly is not as difficult of a grower as say Grizzly Bear’s newest, Veckatimest. Dragonslayer has enough hooks in it to grab a hold of you upon first listen. But that first listen might come across as ordinary. The meandering song structures and obtuse vocal passages can seem be disjointed at times, but as with most good things you just have to give it time to settle. Because any indie album that has fairytale theme deserves to be given time to grow, don’t you know. So lets chalk this one up as another stroke in the victory column for Mr. Krug and company.

8.7 / 10.0

Let The Right One In

Do you like the concept of Twilight but hate the fact that it sucks? Well then Swedish coming-of-age-with-vampires tale, Let the Right One In is perfect for you. Superb cinematography turns the wintry Stockholm suburb into a cold, eerie and isolated place. Not your typical atmosphere for a story of young love but then again this isn't a typical film. Frightening in a psychological way, the violence and gore remains reserved until one last outburst at the climax of the film. With an excellent cast and overall engrossing story, it's easy to forgive a few flaws and hicoughs here and there. Intelligent and artsy, the slow-burn pace of the film may put off the MTV generation, but if you let it, this film becomes increasingly enveloping with each passing shot and victim.

4/5

Everything In Its Right Place: A Look at Kid A at the End of the Decade

As the first decade of our new millennium nears its sunset, we reach a time of inherent reflection. It seems impossible to ignore reminiscing over the past decade that will be looked upon as a milestone in the history books. Simply turning the page from one millennium to the next is cause enough for recollecting where we were, where we are, and where we are going to be. It has certainly become status quo of late to discuss the events of the previous ten years; whether it be the 70's, 80's, 90's and so on and so forth. The 2000's hold a certain feeling of significance over these past decades. Perhaps it has to do more with it being my contemporary than anything, but starting with the threat of Y2K it quickly became apparent that humanity wasn’t merely changing its calendar dates, but it was shifting its entire epoch. It seemed to marry the "we’re all fucked" paradigm of early 20th century modernism, the whimsical wonderment and love of the virtuoso of the Romantic period, and the materialistic "me" culture of the 70's. Look no further then our society’s love affair with celebrities that self destruct in front of the public’s prying eyes, only to build themselves up for the comeback of the century. The one thing that seemed to overshadow everything was a development that started in the late 80's, expanded and boomed in the 90's and had become intrinsically woven within the tapestry of society by the time the year 2000 rolled around. Technology.

Not only in the public sphere, but increasingly in the private; technology had quickly cloaked itself over everyone’s lives. From the rise of cell phones, to the ever expanding internet, to social networking and the much debated music downloading and file sharing– technology was at the heart of everything in the news and in our lives this past decade. With all this in mind, I now turn towards contemporary music giants Radiohead and their magnum opus Kid A. The stories and descriptions of shocked fans and critics alike are well worn and thus I will not go further into them then as to say: in an age that seems to increasingly negate the ability to keep a secret, Radiohead managed to turn a hell of a lot of heads. The band had obviously been effected by the growing dependence on technology and their sound had obviously completely turned, just as the millennium did. And so it goes without saying that Kid A is the best, most important album of the decade, for not only riding the tide of the times; but for becoming the epitome and definition as to what it meant to be living in the first decade of the new millennium. Ladies and gentlemen, the 2000's put to record.

It starts immediately with the album’s opening track, "Everything In It’s Right Place" which haunts the listener with its schizophrenic vocals and electronics swirling around a pulsing keyboard lead. The soundtrack to New Years morning, as millions of denizens woke, hungover to the realization that the giant computer bug had not crushed us all. No, the Earth was not a cold dead place; in fact, besides the streets littered with the parties of the night before, the world had no great aesthetic change. But just as "The National Anthem" grows increasingly chaotic from a hypnotic bass to an entire brass band wailing with the utmost disturbance, so to did the imprint left by the Y2K scare. People seemed to become a little more skeptical of technology as it quickly realized that the computer age could potentially produce just as much chaos as convenience. This skepticism is at the heart of Kid A, and what makes it such a masterpiece is the approach to its subject matter. The obvious choice for an artist to rebel against the encroaching computerized world, would be to strip themselves of computers– go acoustic. The genius of Kid A is in the way it utilizes technology (electronics, keyboards and effects) along with lyric content and overall mood to create something that both heralds in a new age whilst remaining critical of it.

A major condition of the technological age is of course globalization; the process of bringing everyone closer together. While on one hand this process brings a greater understanding of other cultures, it has negative consequences as well. Certainly the aspect of identity crisis is explored within the weeping and eerie strings of "How to Disappear Completely" Globalization opens up the opportunity for one country to economically dominate another in ways not seen since the days of imperialism. "Optimistic" surveys the negative with its anti-capitalism lyrical content as Thom Yorke sings, "Files are buzzing around my head / Vultures circling their dead". While I find the anti-capitalism debate bordering on ridiculous (Michael Moore), the song none the less creates another interesting parallel between the album and society. Looking further into the piece the lyrics, "This one just came out of the swamp / This one dropped a payload" we can look at the other aspect of globalization that has become a major talking point in the decade, international terrorism. Especially since the tragic events of September 11th, 2001, society in this decade seems to be underwritten with a sense of impending doom. This dark mood is mirrored by the cold, dreary atmosphere of the album.

The haunted, stuttering 10/8 groove of "Morning Bell" seems the greatest culmination of this dread on Kid A. As Yorke wails, "Cut the Kids in half", the most automatic reaction is too get goose bumps on your skin. These goose bumps hold the same creeping terror of every suicide bombing, hostage taking, global warming hyped fear mongering or any school shooting. Even on the ridiculous side, with the recent fascination with Mayan prophecies, the fear of an apocalypse has been at its highest since the Cold War and Mutually Assured Distruction. Kid A possesses this overbearing sense of dread, it literally bursts out of every seem on the album. So by the time "Motion Picture Soundtrack" comes to a bittersweet close we find ourselves in a similar situation to our current mind set– apathy. As Yorke whispers his tale of suicide over a heartbreaking pump organ, one can’t help but realizes that we have become too comfortable with our endless fear mongering. We all too easily accept that the end of the world is nigh, and only make half-hearted attempts that are really no more then surface value. Like the pretty sounding closing, too many people are a little too comfortable with the fact that our skylines are going to become all twisted metal, stretching upwards into that thin orange haze.

We need to stop and ask ourselves, what’s really going on? Is the end of the world really just around the corner? Or has the technological age that Kid A seems to be so skeptical of wiped away our ability to see past what we are told by the media and politicians. Can we get out of this naive lifestyle that so many people seem to be stuck in, like some sort of matrix. The final line on Kid A is also the most fitting send off to the decade. "I will see you in the next life" is on one hand a sad and depressing send off to one life, and on the other an optimistic departure. For all the dread and turmoil that dotted much of the news of the decade, there was still a lot of good too be found and hopefully this good will be expanded upon in our next decade. The last remaining question that could be raised is thus; can an album released at the beginning of the decade be the most important? To answer this, all you have to do is flip it around. Would an album released at the end of the decade really be the most important? Or would it simply be a chronological summarization of all the happenings of the decade past? Kid A isn’t a list of our decade, it is our decade. Not only is it a great piece of music, it is a masterpiece of culture.

An Introduction

Good day all,

For those of you who have stumbled aimlessly upon this blog, allow me to introduce it. The River in the Rain, a title of which is derived from a short story I recently wrote, is a collection of my thoughts on various subjects. These subjects will primarily revolve around music, film, books and I may post the occasional story. I don't pretend to have a superior opinion on the things I talk about, but rather this is just an excercise for me to write on a consistent basis. So with all this in mind, I do hope you enjoy my blog, and I hope you become frequent visitors.