HAIM Creates A Beat Heavy Confection That Will Linger Forever

Girls can out and out rock. Since Heart mopped the floor with guys club narrow-mindedness in the '70s, the door for women has practically been ripped off its hinges. Add to that proud roll call HAIM (rhymes with "time"), an LA foursome that owns the studio. No lie the four of them are wunderkinds. Their current single "Forever" serves as gripping reminder you're on notice they shall dominate the scene for however long they're compelled to do so. Better still they have smarts to burn. Sisters Alana, Danielle, and Este Haim pack free flowing spunk into an almighty wallop. Since music is a hits driven industry it's worth noting this act goes to the head of the class where viable songcraft is concerned. From the opening whack of the drums from lone male Dash Hutton, you're in for rock fusion prepared to a high gloss zest. It's not easy to place a ready made label on the band although comparisons to Fleetwood Mac have been lobbed across the port bow. Fleetwood Mac is in a league of its own, therefore there's no shame being compared to them. From my view by the speakers I believe it's a misguided comparison. Vocally, Danielle lands in stride with '80s songbirds like Sheena Easton and Teena Marie. HAIM does bring rock credentials to the dance. The stitch work amazes in any and every way. Sit back and enjoy Danielle shred at the bridge. Not the efforts of a shrinking violet for sure. Este's a heavyweight bass player in her own right. However she's special because her mastery shakes and bakes like R & B Soul Train booty call yet flaunts its rock toughness welded into its undeniable core. Alana's rhythm guitar injects vivacity into a track that wasn't starved for in your face ball busting. Danielle calls out how she's had it with love that doesn't provide the correspondingly fit pieces to her jigsaw puzzle social circle. "Can't you make this sane?" She asks. That love often leads a good many of its team players to the funny farm isn't a novel suggestion. Danielle's question comes as a unique tilt on the topic. "Insane" is usually the overarching element in romance. "Can't you make this sane?" pencils in drawings of embattled lovers trying to fit square pegs in round holes. As a completed project the lyrics are supporting players compared to the smoke rings wafting from vocals, guitars, and drums. No matter who you are the good fight takes a lot out of you. You can't talk people away from the ledge if they're bound and determined to plunge to their doom. Danielle doesn't shy away from the notion that love is a tried and true area where practice can and does in fact make perfect. She doesn't care what outsiders gossip about. She also prays her other half doesn't give a fig either. You're bound to blown away not only by the bridge section guitar talent on display but that which dives after your jugular vein later on. Dash puts the kick in kick drum. Looking for an object to compare his technique to? That's what you'd get if you bottled the sound of a backfiring car engine at the exact right spot. Bang...bang bang bang. First impressions count in sound circles. Dash chipped in a jolt. The EP that "Forever" comes from has been around since 2012, but American audiences are only now getting their crack at this song. Prince said at the opening of his monster #1 classic "Let's Go Crazy" that forever's a mighty long time. That stripe of forever is how long I hope HAIM puts out sturdy singles like this. HAIM can take a group bow and indulge in a group hug for having created a song that's got the stamina to muscle its way into timeless territory

Sara Bareilles Lays Down Choice Chops

Time for everybody to lighten up. You suspect Sara Bareilles was thinking that when she went into the studio to record "I Choose You"? Single number 2 from "The Blessed Unrest" charms the pants off of me. How could it not when it tosses in a fetching smorgasboard ranging from winsome background harmonies to nattily plucked strings to Sara's wisely stepping away from the aggressive pitch she wielded for "Brave". That only stands to reason since that opening single was rooted in throwing off limitations. Call to action was its major concern. "I Choose You" delights in the sweet spot two lovers find when they're at last on the same page. Over and over we've been told love is so darned messy. What goodness it is to be bathed in the rainbow spangled glow of romance performed at optimal sync. Sara coos joyfully throughout which makes her praise fun to live through vicariously. Her newly kindled belief bursts out of the starlet. There's a spot in some performers' vocal range where innocence harnessed becomes optimism renewed. An excellent example of that would be "Guardian", a single from Alanis Morrissette. She throws aside any reservation which could have her resisting love's multi-pronged message. Here also the band musicians emboss her cloud chasing sprightliness with sunbeams you'd want to meet full on, total glow unleashed. What I've admired about Sara from day one is she always can be counted on to guide the parameters of her voice to match the material in front of her. "Love Song", her firm refusal to just belt out a love song cause her label asked her to carried with it the patented Helen Reddy "I Am Woman" lioness ferociousness. "King of Anything" similarly paints Sara in the role of empowered female unwilling to tolerate bollocks. "Brave" had a freeing edge. "I Choose You" stands out as Sara's gentlest track to date. Listen in closely to capture the full effect of Sara singing from the rare pinnacle of inner contentment. Not that the believing in love question hasn't been kicked around quite a bit in song. Do give Sara the nod for addressing it in such a sequined dress incandescent fashion that the question is worth musing on for the umpteenth and change time. Little touches come up big. That smorgasboard effect I touched on higher up on this page? Never is it heavy handed. No air time is spend going on tangents that don't lend credibility to the song. If "I Choose You" puts a healthy shine on your core being thanks go to how adorably located each side player is. The backup singing inches in rather than hogging the spotlight. The string players? They only exist to frost this cake with extra meet cute. "I Choose You" merits consideration as one of the better hand clap tunes currently in rotation on A/C stations. True love is elusive, the rarest diamond a jeweler has at his disposal. Sara shouts to the world that she and Mr. Right finally got it right. Magic absent a black hat and rabbits has been achieved. Sara has done an outstanding job making a name for herself as a top notch singles artist. "I Choose You" is an excellent selection if what you're looking for in ear enticement is warm going down, increasingly tasteful after repeated glassfuls.

One Listen To 311's "Five of Everything" Is More Than Enough To Satisfy

Kudos to 311 for successfully staying current in this climate of hyper disposable culture. The Nebraska band served notice that it would be a massive force in 1996 when "Down" streaked across rock airwaves. These guys combine rap, rock, and reggae to come up with a hybrid brand name that's distinctive. "Come Original" was astounding regardless of what chemical enhancements you had in your system. "Beautiful Disaster" racked up mileage thanks to homegrown lyrics that proved 311 never was taking itself too seriously. It was their party and you were handed an all-access pass. Somewhere along the way they managed to credibly cover The Cure's huge smash "Love Song". 311 put its own fogged up spin on it. The results were entrancing no end. 311 returns with "Stereolithic". From said release springs "Five of Everything". What diehards have come to deeply dig about 311 is evident across the board. Nick Hexum and Tim Mahoney pack some kind of one two punch on guitar. Their defiantly overt ways along the frets mirror one of those action sequences from the classic Pong video game (Yes, Ear Buzz guy has been circling the sun for a while now. Don't chuckle too much.) Up and down, in and out, hither and yon, to and fro, any way you paraphrase the unrestrained manic energy it lives and refuses to die by guitar. Big plus to them for allowing us to gorge on enough ear candy to make every other organ inside of us rot away in record time. Nick Hexum plays psychological lightning rod to the hilt. Thankfully he's not too Saturday Night Live Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey about it. What is it about the unquenchable thirst that keeps us forging ahead in the morning. It's never satiated but we're bound and determined to stem signs of a drought anyway. Doug "SA" Martinez, the hombre who made "Down" one for the 1996 rock books, does get his macho on but you'll have to be patient. Not until the bridge does he remind us that his band was the original rap/rock hybrid before Chester Bennington and Linkin Park made it an art form worth investigating. Depending on what your take home pay is, Doug's picked a fine space in music history to remind us what a drag our culture can be at its most superficial. So much time is either wasted or satisfyingly employed stripping away the artifices to get to what's really worth running life's race. Each of one of us pursues something. The seed of a dream resides inside each of us. Nick picks up on this urge to run, to get carried away by the rising tides of insisted upon mass consumption. As much as some of us try keeping up with the Joneses, once we're within reach of it getting the bling doesn't seem as much a victory as the chase to obtain. If 311 has thrived on its rep as fusing the genre elements I described earlier, make damned sure drummer Chad Sexton gets some love. Behind seemingly every vintage quality reggae tune there's a tight drum section to give it the wings it needs to orbit the stratosphere and then some. The reggae drum uncoils, then pounces like a venomous cobra. For 311, Chad's value comes from how firm a grasp he has on giving his instrument the proper cocktail hour enthusiasm. He shakes things up without getting falling down drunk at the bar stool. Familiar friends matter because of their trademark characteristics that let us know we're never too far away from each other. When that friend comes within earshot we embrace the essence full on. 311's essence is brought to full apogee through chord spanning adventures that spit on label applications. To 311's undiluted credit, "Five Of Everything" is one engrossing flight of rock/rap/reggae fancy.

Mali Music Crackles With The Beautiful Side of Life

Jamaal Pollard, Mali Music on stage, practices what his current single "Beautiful" preaches. It's to his credit that he's not weighed down by overproduced backup. Each player in the ensemble buoys how beautiful the world Mali's creating really is. Since the melodies are pleasing overall and there's not much justice I can honestly bestow upon this song other than giving you a sincere thumbs aloft, I'm going to tell you, in opinion's name only, what kinds of urban settings "Beautiful" would liven up. Let's start with drumming. Say you're in a metropolitan area with tons of wonderful opportunities for window shopping. The drums kick instead of slap in the breeze as some R & B inflected projects do. You really have a fine night to remember if there's a cool breeze thrown in for good measure. Next, there's the piano. Where Elton John would dive into the eighty eights like some overeager pre-teen launching himself into the swimming pool, Mali's backup ivory tickler waters carefully. The zingy result is a flower blooming in carefully measured real time. We can watch with rapt gaze as the seedling becomes the affecting blossom which is a complement to any decor. There's no drop-off in chutzpah on the bass end of this throwdown. Many artistic creations benefit from the addition of body. That spreads across many kinds of expression. Whether we're talking the legs on fine wine, the variety of hops in beer, the deeply seared grill marks on choice sirloin, or a bass guitar swiveling lustfully, body equals life. "Beautiful" is a bonafide elixir useful for anyone whose jaded take on the world has deprived them of much reason to celebrate. The last time I noticed the "head up to the sky" pose for human daily existence was in 1995 when Des'ree inescapably commanded radios everywhere with "You Gotta' Be". While catchy, that song was overly nagging. Mali Music's message suits any setting where one's guard could stand to be loosened up. He finds it a blessing when people have their heads up to the sky. That means htere's anywhere from a glimmer to an entire gold mine full of hope. Right on time for an age where less energy could be wasted carping about the discombobulated way the world is and more could be spent working up some enthusiasm regarding possibilities for how the world could be given sharp focus. Mali could be accused, lovingly so, of dropping throwback imagery in his lyrics in the form of that concert standby, the lighter held in the air. Nowadays I think that's been replaced by the cooler than you glow of cell phone screens. Retro isn't a useless tool beside Mali's captivating spring waters. The lighter serves as a beacon for two hearts drawn together, then pointed in the same presumably right direction. After an arduous day at the office, slipping into comfy clothes and slipping Mali into the iPod rotation nets you positive steps towards a wholesome, revitalizing backdrop to replenishing dinner. Raise your hands high with Mali. He's trying to remind us how beautiful we are after peeling back the layers of the modern wilderness we traverse every day. We forget too easily. Mali needs big ups for popping the proper attitude back in our minds.

Heaven's Basement Places a Can't Lose Hard Rock Bet

Like a battering ram, the UK's Heaven's Basement pulverizes sensitive eardrums with a smartly layered hard rock assault that's catnip for Old School metal masses and New School neophytes who can either began or enhance their education on the subject right here. "Nothing Left To Lose" is executed urgently, as if the foursome really did have everything to lose. Methodically lead vocalist Aaron Buchanan, lead guitarist Sid Glover, bass guitarist Rob 'Bones' Ellershaw and drummer Chris Rivers strut their way down the razor thin line separating rational thought from core meltdown. You'll spend many an hour taken in by the two fisted result. Alienation shouts out begging to be heard. Everything about the guitar's Spandex tight evolution nails the silent scream ethos down to the last anguished cry for acknowledgement. Sid ups the ante on the scale of hoodlum menace, his instrument echoing the defiance Aaron wails about. The exhausting trip along rusted razor blades pauses only long enough for Aaron to emphasize how very not wanted we the disillusioned are on this orb since we...you know...don't get to rent the real estate indefinitely. Vulture drown us out. Silence closes in, thick blackness the only ally we have left. Chalk one up to Heaven's Basement for keeping the torch of chip on the shoulder hard rock impressively lit. This foursome knows its purpose. They're not above bobbing and weaving through the guitarist's bag of tricks either. To hear Aaron tell the tale defiance is pretty friggin' noble. Even though the odds are deeply stacked against us, even though we've always been and always will be playing with house money we're brazen enough to spit in the universe's face anyway. Taste the saliva drifting from his agitated bottom lip. Succumb to Sid's electrifying guitar showmanship. Surrender full on to Chris's pectoral flexing choice of strokes behind the kit. The whole life is pointless since it's impermanent schtick is worth swallowing one more time simply because these messengers clearly have their game faces on. Spookiness ensues from the image (or lack therein) of nightmares follow not being able to open one's eyes. Makes that whole impermanence thing come into deceptively vivid technicolor. You've likely never seen anything like it which is exactly how these lads love to serve it up. It's been a shade over a year since the release of "Filthy Empire" the full length album where you'll find "Nothing Left To Lose". Fingers crossed Heaven's Basement's following grows exponentially. "Nothing Left To Lose" allows us to gain a reminder that hard rock with the gas tank locked and loaded still exists in 21st century music.

A Keen Longing For The Old Days Is Automatic For Miranda Lambert

Country music is about the earthiest of music genres. Gritty subject matter dots the landscape. Broken, cheatin' hearts are the order of the day. Enjoying a well deserved drink gets touched upon regularly. One of country's current "it" girls, Miranda Lambert brings warmly spun nostalgia to the table with "Automatic". The title speaks of how what you get in this life isn't worth nearly as much when you have the accolades handed to you. At its best quality country tunes weave comfortable guitar picking in with whatever moralizing, sermonizing, or heart mending is on the table. So it's the case for Mrs. Lambert. She doesn't get on her soapbox too sharply. As a matter of fact there are a lot of fun cultural reference points to satisfy even the most jaded of people. Wanna bet your grandparents will smile ear to ear if you sit them down with the song? Bringing up the cassette tape surely makes me feel like I've been orbiting the sun quite a few times but I definitely don't mind. I stand by my collection of tapes. Many's the fun hour I've spent soaking in what they had to share with me. Ever hung laundry on a line to dry? You likely know someone in your family that has and that would choke up with nostalgia at the mention. There aren't any tears in her beer though. Looking back at your salad days doesn't always have to stand in as an excuse to get depressed about the perceived tastelessness of the here and now. Miranda's gentle tones make it easy for you to sway in her mothering arms. Behind her the drums skip at a sprightly pace that does ideal justice to the series of remember when imagery. I'm not ashamed to admit I write to family and friends, postage stamps included. Of course I'm faster on a keyboard but I haven't forgotten how wonderful it is to receive something personal via snail mail. You're not a mere occupant, a placeholder if you will. Even though my countdown show was American Top 40 circa 1983, I dig Miranda's flashback to the country countdown she had to record due to lack of funds needed to buy the whole shebang. You can't shake the fondness Miranda sings about. No two ways about it we're well in the middle of a hyper sped-up culture. Once in awhile there's real merit in revisiting culture moments of the past when we didn't have relentless appointments to keep and no way to touch ground, check in, or do anything resembling a personal inventory. Sure we were always busy but this multi-tasking universe doesn't leave much room for deep breaths which we need to have the lifeforce to resume being so busy. The chorus drives home the lesson that you'll appreciate what you get more if you've actually put in some elbow grease rather than coasting. I've never exactly been smitten on message music but Miranda doesn't let moral high ground impede her progress along a path laden with singularly touching memories. Her new album "Platinum" streets in June, a perfect time for the sunshine warmth of "Automatic" to gel head on with summer's authentic heat. "Automatic" flashes its remembrance pedigree admirably. On any one of a number of summer sunset days it's bound to be a lovely finale one can enjoy teamed with homestyle lemonade and a rocking porch.

Ray LaMontagne Dazzles With "Supernova"

Today's let's shuffle the iPods to adult contemporary artists.Nashua, New Hampshire's Ray LaMontagne deftly occupies an effervescent world of his own with "Supernova". One of the best things I can point out is you're transported deep through space without leaving ground. He's made good use of the entire range of keys. Vocally his style lands in the ballpark of a James Blunt although I doubt the song is memorable enough to get overplayed like "Beautiful" did in 2006. His chops are husky, manly, not to mention totally focused on the dizzying kaleidoscopic voyage. As "Supernova" hurtles through space he's comfortably ensconced in one set of chords which do a good of helping us to mellow out. I advise you not to let the familiarity of his upbeat range lull you into a comfort zone. Down the road a pace there's a lightning fast sequence that this video accentuates nicely. Ray's got you hooked but has the sense to shake you by the shoulders to demonstrate how committed to winning you over he is. While at the piano he's teddy bear gentle. He'll drop notes in with the delicate grace of newly drifted snow. Yes, bad image if the 2013-14 winter has had you screaming for the season of shoveling driveways to please end. Ray has a pretty solid respect for the folk genre he belongs to. In fact his brand of whisper soft dreamy floating cloud delights puts in good company with '70s stalwarts like James Taylor, Harry Chapin, and Peter, Paul, and Mary. Each of those acts combine an earthy friendliness with serious adult content, in Mr. Chapin's case the bittersweet apple doesn't fall from the tree motif. Harry's protagonist discovers that the son he didn't have time for way back when is now too busy to check in himself. The lyrics are the stuff of starry eyed nights and delicate physical contact. How often have we as listeners been returned to two souls who want to escape whatever one horse town they're confined to. Ray has his lady on a steep pedestal. Regardless of whether that's out of uncommon devotion or the need for unconfined fantasy escapism is unimportant. I doubt many women would be insulted with a comparison to a supernova. Such a woman likely has grace, energy in each phase of a relationship, as well as those intangibles that many a head coach can tell you can often times help win whatever game we weekend warriors are observing. The album of the same name comes our way in May. As the old rhyme goes, "April showers bring May flowers". In this case I wouldn't say pretty posies are on top but a dazzling view of two people in love taking that breathless flight through the passion cruise heavens is. As a newcomer to LaMontagne's orbit I can without reservation claim that I detect quite a gentle giant milling around in there. I also can tell how it makes sense Stephen Stills is named by the man himself as being a prime influence. The drumming and fierce shifting of guitar sensibilties would make the Texas-based quarter of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young proud. "Supernova" is a song you sink into as the jacuzzi bubbles comfort your aching limbs. The deeper you immerse yourself, the zippier your mood becomes. At least for a shade under four minutes being earthbound isn't coming across as quite the same daft punchline. We can enjoy calm oases now and again.