London-based Dan Melchior has been making a name for himself through an extensive output of material – he’s released more than 30 recordings with multiple bands since the mid-90′s and notably, fans will attest, he rarely misfires. His latest project entitled Thankyou Very Much with his NC-based group Dan Melchior und das Menace, uniquely finds inspiration in the surrealist dreamworld of psychedelic guru Syd Barrett. On paper, Melchior’s approach, to combine elements of absurdist nursery rhymes with cynical and snarky punk rock, is not unlike what Robyn Hitchcock had done years prior. But where Hitchcock tended towards a more controlled production effect, Melchior sounds, refreshingly, like he’s been camping out in the garage for a while.

With the immediacy offered in the information age, style is often positioned firmly ahead of substance, and while aesthetics are a huge appeal in Melchior’s music (there will always be an audience for neo-psychedelic Barrett emulaters), his lyrical content puts him ahead of the pack. The disillusioned listener will find much cause for excitement when Melchior condemns “all these painters that don’t paint any pictures” and “all these musicians that don’t write any songs.” Coupled with his incredible work ethic, these words are especially scathing, as they call into question modern art scenes that are more concerned with projecting an image than doing something groundbreaking.

Melchior may not have the influence of an indie icon, but he’s of the most refreshing breed – a hard-working independent artist with ideas to spare.

It should take no more than 5 minutes for the influences to roll off the tongue – My Bloody Valentine and Joy Division are the most prominent – and though bright as day, you cannot help but find their treatment of the songs commendable (This is, of course, largely the result of a curious team of producers including Geoff Barrow of Portishead, Craig Silvey, and music video director Chris Cunningham). The band is notably unabashed about their audio borrowing, and this self awareness gives them an upper hand over a countless number of imitators (its one of the reasons, after all, we were able to forgive Interpol.)

Naysayers will denounce the record for its unoriginality, but its difficult to miss the charm in “Who Can Say”, whose guitar fuzz and soaring synths find balance with an “oops I’m sexy” Jim Morrison vocal emulation. The song’s wonderful instrumental break, with thumping bass drum, tambourine, and hushed rhythmic speaking, evokes the ghost of 1960’s Phil Spector girl groups. It exemplifies what may be achieved when finely trained ears are able to make musical connections one might not expect. Its also, coincidentally, the one thing that makes Primary Colours occasionally excellent.

Spencer Hensel and Patrick Ryan chatting with Grand Duchy about their album Petits Fours. Interview was done via Skype.

Its creator, a now 20 year old editing wiz known simply as Pogo, has quietly composed songs since he was a child. Thanks to user content friendly social networking websites such as YouTube and last.fm, he has found an outlet for free distribution of his work.

Pogo was kind enough to take a moment to answer some questions for me earlier this month. He was a great interview – thoughtful and concise, and admirable in his strict “no profit” approach to art distribution.

For the record, can we get your full name?
As far as my music goes, I choose to be known only as Pogo. Please respect my wishes and I promise we’ll stay on good terms. =)

Also (and I promise we’ll move on to the good stuff after this) when were you born?
I was born on the 26th of July in 1988. I guess that makes me a Leo, whatever that really means.

What equipment/software do you use to compose and record your music? (please be as specific as you would like)
I get asked that so many times that I hear it in my sleep. Adobe Audition serves me well on my hunts for sounds, and FLStudio has never failed me in sequencing them quickly and efficiently.

How long have you been making music?
I’ve had a fascination with music for as long as I can remember. When I was two, the folks bought me a desktop tape recorder. I’d listen to tapes for hours every day. When I was twelve, I became obsessed with the Playstation game ‘Music 2000′. I’d spend most of my free time in front of the television composing tracks that I’d record to cassette tape and listen to at my own leisure. Music production has been a hobby that I’ve held tight ever since.

Do you have any other aliases other than Pogo? If so, is there any noticeable difference in overall sound?
When I was twelve, I used to call myself K-Trax. Does that count? I like to think that I’m less corny than that these days!

In addition to your electronic compositions, you have made rather successful video projects, particularly those with an editing style much like your audio work. From what I can tell, all of these undertakings are distributed for free via social networking websites such as last.fm and youtube.com. Are you making any sort of profit from the content you are creating? If not, would you ever want to?
To profit has never been on my list of things to do with my work. I’m sure there’s plenty of potential sitting there, but I find it far more thrilling to release something that people listen to and find exciting, relaxing or mystifying. I think it’s an exhilarating way to share an emotion with other people, but at the same time, I think it’s critical that you’re able to love your own work first. You are your most important listener.

When did you first notice people were tuning into your music?
Because I’ve never promoted my tracks beyond the point of merely uploading them, I was alarmed to comprehend the crowd that ‘Alice’ had drawn. People had featured it on their websites, posted it on their blogs, and the feedback I was getting was overwhelmingly positive. According to many viewers, the video is even better when you’re high on mushrooms – an experience I’m yet to visit myself.

Your remixes tend to borrow from very wide-eyed classic films (The King & I, Alice In Wonderland, The Sword and the Stone) -how is it that you are able to isolate the sounds you are hearing to eventually add to a 3 minute piece of music? Is there anything specific you are listening for?
Most of the time, it’s simply a case of finding chords, syllables or passages that I like the sound of on a musical level. There’s really no formula to it. Because I only work with what I find, very rarely do I have something in mind before scanning for sounds. That’s what makes producing this kind of music exciting.

What is your all time favorite album?
There’s just far too much good music out there. I could never decide.

All time favorite film(s)?
Children Of Men, Rabbit Proof Fence, One Hour Photo, Cube, Russian Ark, Flight Of The Navigator, A.I: Artificial Intelligence. I should stop myself there.

You are a part of a growing breed of musical artists who appear to be thriving independently. Many musicians seem to be moving further away from record label involvement. How do you feel about the ways in which we access music today? Who benefits and who does not?
Some might think it’s sad that people are downloading music for free instead of supporting the artists they like, but on the other hand, I think it’d be equally as sad for those artists to produce their music solely for the money. I think music is one of the most efficient ways of communicating ideas and emotions with a large group of people, and in this age where faces are being replaced with computer screens, I think a decline of that communication would be a sad thing as well. If my tracks are on people’s players out there making them happier, I don’t think I could ever feel more fulfilled as an artist.

Can we expect any new projects soon?
I’ve always got new tracks in the works. Stay tuned!

This interview was conducted via email on April 5, 2009. Free Downloads of Pogo’s music are available at http://www.last.fm/music/Pogo

By Spencer Hensel

These guys are no strangers to the indie rock scene; The band has released four LPs since their full length debut in 2000. In 9 years they have been subjects of near universal critical praise, and this, their latest, continues that tradition. Even still, it does not quite sound like the self assured collection of songs one might expect from a band with a decade of widely publicized experience under their belts.

The voice of Jimi Goodwin sometimes mirrors the tonal quality of fellow Britpop frontman Chris Martin – a comparison, to be sure, that has haunted him since the band’s initial exposure – though Goodwin lacks his contemporary artfully restrained, and notably mature, delivery style. Seeming to lack confidence in his own poetry, he often over-emotes. “Winter Hill”, though immediately engaging, never resonates on an emotional level because of the dramatized intonations clouding every line. Elsewhere, we have moments of stifling “perfection.” The Rapture-esque, funky “Compulsion”, with mechanical basslines and unwavering vocals, glares with a clinical white sheen. This is less of an issue in “10:03″, in which the voice sounds raspy and wrecked – almost certainly the result of an extended recording session. Because of this, it feels far less contrived, and therefore more believable.

Opening track “Jetstream” notably blueprints the rest of Kingdom of Rust. The song is largely percussive – with little harmony to speak of – and grandiose production. While perhaps compositionally uncomplicated, it is inarguably grand and dramatic. This appears to be the trick up Doves’ sleeve; The swells of feedback and psychedelic flutters sweetening the record are just enough to give the listener incentive to stick around for its entire duration.

Though applying very little, Doves have pinned a simple way to pacify the average indie music fan.. Its all smooth sailing from here.

Download: Phantogram – Moutful Of Diamonds

The band’s symbiosis takes fruition in the lovely “Seeing Stars,” whose denouement reaches a level of ethereality that Black has alluded to for years (mostly prominently in the unheralded gem “The Happening” and the psuedo-transcendental “No. 13 Baby”.) These were wonderful moments, but with Clark’s touch, we suddenly realize that something was missing all along: Her keenness in finding the emotional in the synthetic results in something sweeping and majestic – something that, until now, was just beyond Black’s reach. Likewise, the fact that this is Violet Clark’s proper debut only magnifies Black’s importance as a musical partner (It should be noted that Clark recorded and produced an album under the name Dunmore shortly before Grand Duchy, a record whose release is, as of now, unforeseeable.)

Without question, the key to Petits Fours’ success is the audible sense of intimacy between its performers, which is so palpable it at times even seems invasive on the part of the listener. One such moment is the playful back-and-forth somewhere in the middle of “Lovesick”, in which Black interjects with an eye-brow raising “What are you wearing?” to which Clark replies, with cutesy flirtation “I don’t know!” Its a simple exchange – and not much on paper – but in the moment, it feels unmistakably voyeuristic. Its one of a handful of moments that make it difficult to peel the headphones away.

Many critics will claim, both as praise and censure, that Now We Can See is the group at their most tame. Indeed, interviews in which bandleader Hutch Harris has dropped potentially terrifying album descriptors such as “less abrasive,” “universal,” and “classic,” suggest that reaching a larger audience is very much a part of his agenda. The fact that the band shopped around for a new label to release Now We Can See seems to indicate an awareness of their sudden marketability following the huge success of their previous album (for those out of the loop, Hutch and Co. decided to sign on with Kill Rock Stars after completing their contract with Sub Pop.)

Don’t let any of the press fool you – All things considered, NWCS sounds exactly like you would expect it to. Envision an entire album of songs that borrow heavily from The Body’s “Returning to the Fold”, for starters. Lyrically, there’s a lot of death, love, and fish. Remember “Back to the Sea” and the promise that the narrator will willfully de-evolve and disappear into the ocean? Well, this is it, and apparently there’s not much to do or write about down there.

Opener “When We Died” is good enough, featuring some delightfully gross lyrical imagery (“I took off my clothes/ I took off my skin/ started shedding my arms to start getting my fins…”), but it does not leave much room for further thematic exploration. Harris’ lyrics, glorious in their simplicity, were the obvious driving force of The Body, The Blood, The Machine – but in this record, the content of the first song dooms the rest: Our narrator says everything he needs to within the first 3 minutes.

So here we have a collection of songs that is – for the most part – more of the same. There is no huge departure, nor have the Thermals quite “settled down”, as some have theorized from the oddly serene cover art. What they have done is tweek the most “universal” elements of their music and shone a light on them that is so bright it is nearly blinding. And now we can see.HH

Though largely publicized by the band’s label as containing“an unusual tale about a character who leaves home only to be abducted by a time traveler,” there is very little story here. It’s like capturing a precious fragment of Sufjan Stevens’ wonderful 2003 achievement Greetings from Michigan and magnifying it to stretch 48 minutes. The result is something often sentimental, but void of the fine-tuned details and scope that make an album of greatness so wholly immersive. We have a spark, and alas, no fire.

There are moments when flames appear to form. Most noticeably is in album centerpiece “Southern Ocean”, a miniature epic containing the rousing battle chirp “We’re not scared anymore!” The impassioned delivery at the end of “This Land Used to Be My Land, But Now I Hate This Land” is unexpected for sounding so markedly brash in a record that tends to pride itself on its sweetness and near unrelenting agreeability.

The voice of leader Joey Cook, much in the vein of Michael Nau or Sufjan, has a categotical softness to it, though it possesses a much more epicene quality than either. The result is, appropriately, very childlike in its lack of gender distinction. It is inescapably the first thing you will notice about the band, and is probably their most redeeming aspect.

Pomegranates still have a ways to go, but at the very least, they appear willing to get their feet wet. Sometimes, this leads to a few pleasant surprises – others, as is the case with the meandering and overlong final track “I Feel Like I’m a Million Years Old”, reveal how much growth is necessary for the band to rival their God fearing contemporaries.

To be certain, the YYY’s are not the same band they were 7 years ago, for better or for worse. The garage rock sensibility has been exchanged for a more naive pop sound, drifting somewhere between new wave dance and shoegaze. For their latest, the band recruited producers Nick Launay (Talking Heads, Kate Bush, INXS) and Dave Sitek of TV on the Radio, who has been consistently involved in the band’s repertoire. The final result is perhaps the most uniform full length the band has produced, and as such, it maintains a pleasant – albeit unexciting – middleground.

Lead single and album opener “Zero” is nice enough, but hardly memorable and not terribly engaging. If the goal of the first track is to pull you in to the album, it undeniably falls short. “Heads Will Roll” is an innocuous dance tune which (somewhat redeemingly) contains a sample of striking similarity to the opening theme of the mid-90′s Nickelodeon television series Space Cases. “Dull Life”, a more upbeat and rock oriented number, sounds – much like the band’s worst material – as if it was composed within 5 minutes and lazily included (with a few production effects) as just another fill-in track.

The record appears to redeem itself with “Runaway” – a ballad of sorts beginning simply with voice and piano, which slowly layers and builds to a disarming effect. The sounds on the album are apparently produced entirely by the band’s key members, namely guitar wizard Nick Zinner, who creates some soothing, almost orchestral-sounding ambience here. It sounds the most complete of any song on It’s Blitz!, surpassed only by the album’s sweetly innocent closer “Little Shadow”, whose success lies in its simple, understated lyrics and delicate vocal delivery. This, it seems, is the closest the album gets to the perfect pop song the band appears to have their sights set on, joining the ranks of “Our Time”, “Maps”, and “Cheated Hearts” from previous outings.

“Little Shadow” leaves me with the hope that the YYY’s will grow, but ultimately, It’s Blitz! does little as a whole to inspire much excitement about the current state of the band. If, however, you are content with agreeable and occasionally dreamy pop tunes, here is your momentary fix. Enjoy.