XL CD REVIEWS

Cross Canadian Ragweed, Deerhoof, Of Montreal

Cross Canadian Ragweed, Deerhoof, Of Montreal

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Cross Canadian Ragweed

'Back To Tulsa'

(Universal South)

Country music's premier garage band is a force of nature in concert, which is why this live double disc is better if you've already seen Cross Canadian Ragweed live. I imagine that listening to this splendidly torn and frayed record without proper context is like walking into a raucous party where you don't know a soul. The delirious crowd is in singalong mode throughout, which can be a little unnerving when you're hearing these songs for the first time.

Recorded over two nights at Cain's Ballroom, Bob Wills old stomping grounds, this record poses singer-guitarist Cody Canada as a double threat who sings and plays guitar better than he has to. If there's one area that begs for improvement, however, it's melody crafting. Canada's songs tend to sound alike, mid-tempo Steve Earle rockers delivered with a heavy hand, which is especially apparent over two discs.

"Back To Tulsa" could've easily been cut to make it more like product than a keepsake. Canada's feel-good song intros add little (is there a Texas singer-songwriter out there who isn't his "brother"?) and a few of the tunes just aren't up to "17," "Anywhere But Here" and other standouts. But Ragweed's modus operandi has always been to just throw it all out there and see what sticks. Their diehard fans love them for their inclusiveness. This is a gift for them when, at this point in their career, the boys from Oklahoma, now based in New Braunfels, probably would be better off looking for new fans. —Michael Corcoran

---

Deerhoof

'Friend Opportunity'

(5RC)

One gets tired of praising bands so consistently soul-juggling as Deerhoof, but man alive if they don't keep making the frenetic bricolage rock of our dreams. Every time you think they can't possibly top the last volley of riff, melody and singer Satomi Matsuzaki's childlike sing-song squeak, a song takes a dramatic left turn which re-contextualizes everything you just heard. They do this over and over again.

Some thought the departure of longtime guitarist Chris Cohen would throw a wrench in Deerhoof's delicate machinery. Nope. Matsuzaki, drummer Greg Saunier and guitarist John Dieterich have kept scurrying along, like a lizard regrowing a tail.

Take the starling quasi-funk that opens "Believe E.S.P." — it's the sort of beat that's ripe for sampling and remixes. Eventually subsumed into electronic burble, it re-emerges with a new melody 30 seconds before the end. The acoustic beauty that opens "The Gaiaxist" morphs into heavy electric thrum without you even noticing. The piano on "Wither The Invisible Birds?," drifting into the frantic strums of "Cast Off Crown."

In short, the optimal Deerhoof experience is the act of re-listening to the songs to figure out how it all fits together. Ten songs in 36 minutes and they've built a tiny universe that expands with every listen. Again.

— Joe Gross

---

Of Montreal

'Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?'

(Polyvinyl)

This seventh full release by self-producing Kevin Barnes — with friends under the name Of Montreal — stays true to the genre-mixing bomb of what was Elephant 6. It bursts with funky bass lines, silly dance-hall drum machines and memorable gems of synth-led hooks that are lost deep within chasms of garrulous vocals and convoluted song structures.

Despite all these traits, a tragic give and take plagues the album, creating a balance of indifference instead of a collection of charming melodies. The awkward chord sequence found in the intro of "Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse" weakens the darling melody to follow. The laborious and meticulous vocal delivery in "Cato as a Pun" takes away from the wonderful recurring distorted guitar theme.

It makes sense for Kevin Barnes to cite Paul McCartney, Brian Wilson and David Bowie as profound influences. Even though brutal honesty is often an admirable quality, it yields to irony in "Labyrinthian Pomp." Lyrics such as: "My demented pastime of giving replicators somewhere to go," and "Why you wanna tag my style/I am so superior/How you wanna hate a thing when you are so inferior?" makes one wonder if Barnes' ego has shrouded from him the influences that are the foundation of his derivative sound.

— Matt Bricker