Stylus Magazine

MANRAYGUN
Everything Is Temporary
(Before you read this, apologies for all the “Manraygun sound like…” lines herein. They’re their own beast. Comparisons are inevitable.) I stumbled across Manraygun on MySpace, their name tricking me into thinking they were some kitschy sci-fi sampling, maybe-surfy band (à la Man… or Astro-man?). I was waaaaaay off. What I heard was a killer amalgam of more reminiscent of Murder by Death Americana, Sadies-ish instrumentals put to Randy Newman-esque lyrics. What a marriage. And the lyrics ain’t dumb either; the stories told are detailed and rich. What’s also really cool is that like another one of my favourite bands, the Vulcan Dub Squad, these guys can hop from style ’n’ sound to style ’n’ sound without tripping up or sounding forced. Everything/anything works! “Operazione Fritz” caught me off guard a little with its eight-bit beat that eventually was added to by the rest of the band. Not that I haven’t heard it before, but that coming after a few songs of dark saloon-rock, was a little unexpected. Good form, Manraygun! “Souvenir Dishes” is a Grinderman-like crunchy ’n’ greasy shitkicker. Manraygun run the gamut here on Everything Is Temporary. The slow songs will make you wanna raise a glass, the fast songs will make you wanna dance, and the mean songs will wanna make you fight. In case your interest isn’t piqued yet, this just came to me (try it on): Manraygun feel like putting Blue Rodeo and Eels in a blender and pouring the mix straight into your ear. Yeah, they’re that good. (Independent, myspace.com/manraygun) Patrick Michalishyn

The cover of this album shows half of the head of a rainbow-irised ventriloquist dummy that appears to be smoking. The initial off-put turned out to be a clever trick on Malakai’s part, because this album is simply excellent. It is pop music as I like it best—essentially catchy without sounding tired. The production is provided by Jeff Barrow of fellow Bristolians Portishead, and the album’s sound is at first very much akin to the latter’s music—beautiful and hypnotic and sounding like it was recorded in a glass studio. But the music is actually more reminiscent of an Odelay-era Beck stuck in with the copyright restrictions of 2010 (but still very British). In “Snowflake” (ever after known as “The Song What Will Not Leave My Head”) the chorus makes reference to a roundabout and the last half of the album sounds pretty straight-up Beatles. They even have a song called “Blackbird.” Despite the obvious musical references, the album stands as quite an original one. The songs never sound tired or overdone. They manage to remain hooky and catchy without becoming repetitive, a huge feat in pop music. The best thing I can say about this album is that I really want to finish this review snappily so I can get back to listening to it; as you should be. (Domino, www.dominorecordco.com) David Nowacki

Remember Polaroid photographs? Warm, intimate little snapshots that captured a moment in time and hinted at a bigger story just outside of the confines of their dimpled white frames. Peter Katz’s most recent collection of songs is kind of the aural equivalent of that: the singer-songwriter’s sincere, passionate vocals and acoustic guitar are front and centre on this lush effort, spinning heartfelt yarns both hopeful and achingly sad. This album was lovingly recorded in an old barn in Hamilton by a long-time friend of Katz, further adding to the impression that the singer is right there, relating these odes to love and loss directly to the listener. Katz handles the usual singer-songwriter fare with emotion without getting overly maudlin as some of his contemporaries are wont to do, and his tales of real tragedy are infused with subtlety rather than melodrama. Indeed, the songs dedicated to hate-crime victim Matthew Shepard and departed fiddler Oliver Schroer are standout tracks. Academy Award-winning  songwriter Glen Hansard (Once) and Canadian folksmiths the Good Lovelies and Melissa McClelland contribute pitch-perfect harmonies to several tracks. Don’t be the first of the last to know: this is a great record. (Curve Music, www.curvemusic.ca) Tiff Bartel

As the first track faded out, I was haunted by the lyrics: “All around the world, na na na na North America.” Where had I heard this before? A short trip to Google provided me with the answer: the mid-’90s radio hit “Around the World (La La La La La)” by ATC. These devilish Swedes had attempted to curry my favour by stirring up memories of unguiltily grooving out to ’90s dance music. Fiends! Charlatans! Abstract room painters! So, naturally, the first track is a winner in my books. The rest of the album, however, takes a turn down decidedly less emotionally stirring avenues. It’s not terribly offensive; I don’t know if there’s really enough character here to offend anyone. It’s nice to listen to, as it sounds very warm and everything is very reverb-y and it sort of sounds like you’re listening to Swedish (read: more cute and electronic) Coldplay in an echo chamber, with female vocals. Which is nice enough to listen to, but it starts to drag a little bit for want of a little variation in theme. By the time the panflute riff kicked in, I was beginning to get a touch sleepy. Probably an excellent album to lull you to sleep or play in your office if you’re a doctor who’s hip to what the kids are doing. They’re currently on tour with fellow two-letter band the xx. It’s as if there was an acronymic scale of bands, with aa being the worst and zz being the best, with the aforementioned bands in their proper places. Hopefully that’s obtuse enough for you. (Secretly Canadian, www.secretlycanadian.com) David Nowacki

Much has been made about Sumach Ecks’ voice leading up to the release of his debut disc A Sufi and a Killer. Following his guest performance on Flying Lotus’s Los Angeles in 2008, Ecks quickly made a name for himself with his voice that is as filthy as it is enchanting. In this regard, it’s a pleasant surprise that, with the debut disc for Ecks under the guise Gonjasufi, the singer has developed a sonic palette fitting for the uniqueness of his voice. A Sufi and a Killer is the perfect counterpart to any summer pop record, as Ecks quickly develops a blissed-out beachhouse aesthetic consistent with his fractured vocals, and carries it through to the final notes of the album. While there are a few bumps along the way, the record does well at maintaining a sense of cohesiveness. At no point does a song sound out of place. Considering the wide variety of styles brought into play throughout the disc (from the 1970s B-movie soundtrack feel of “Sheep” to the pounding blues of “Kowboyz&Indians,” recalling the best moments of Jon Spencer), it’s this consistency that proves to be the album’s greatest asset. With A Sufi and a Killer, Gonjasufi has proven to be worth the hype. (Warp, www.warp.net) Jeff Friesen

As Ned Sublette puts it in the liner notes, this is not your grandfather’s New Orleans record. On their sixth studio album, the jazz-funk jam band creates a record that aims to capture the modern and diverse music scene of New Orleans. The band has recruited a variety of artists from the city to contribute to the album. New Orleans is represented by artists in a diversity of genres such as brass (Rebirth Brass Band on “Boe Money”), jazz (John Boutte sings on the blues and funk inspired “Dark Water”) and most prominently, bounce. The inclusion of bounce on the album, from artists such as Cheeky Blakk (“Do It Again”) and Big Freida (“Double It”), will make fans recall Galactic’s previous hip hop inspired album From the Corner to the Block, and make the listener want to get up and dance while playing the album loud. Ya-Ka-May is an album that is very much like the dish that it takes its title from; it contains ingredients that should not work well together, but once it is mixed together and served, it is excellent. This album will blow your mind. (Anti-, www.anti.com) Charles Lefebvre

The 13th Floor is everything one should expect from a gothic metal band and more. Every track is both epic and depressive while leaving enough diversity for all to enjoy. There is a choir that performs on every single song that helps to give this album that “big sound” it creates so well. The female vocalist sings beautifully while the male guitarist/songwriter occasionally offers death metal growls. The guitar riffs are heavy and relatively simplistic while the keyboard performs complex melody reminiscent of early power metal. There are a few drum-blasting moments, but for the most part this is an album that induces that slow exaggerated head-bang. The production of the album has a very cleaned-up pop music sound and the lyrics follow the generic vagueness of bands like Linkin Park. This is probably due to the guitarist trying to write as asexually as possible, however it does cause a mainstream feel that may turn away several fans of gothic metal. Despite this, the album is still a heavy symphonic metal album worthy to reside in most collections. If Cradle of Filth had a love child with Evanescence the result might sound something like Sirenia. (Nuclear Blast, www.nuclearblastusa.com) Paul Nordin

After touring for three years with bands like the Locust and Pig Destroyer, Child Abuse has once again dropped an album that can only be described as bizarre. A not-so-subtle blend of math-rock, death metal and free jazz, the New York trio’s second album Cut and Run is a new direction both for metal and for electronic music. Though a metal band without guitars may seem like a pizza without cheese, these guys pull it off without a hitch. Heavily distorted synth takes the lead while the bass and drums thrum out a palsied foundation for the almost Dadaist vocals. This album is far from conventional metal and makes Mayhem seem like Buddy Holly in comparison. Fans of Fantômas and the Locust rejoice! Everybody else, run and hide! (Lovepump United, www.lpurecords.com) D. C. S. Murray