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| Review of Some Band: Neon Indian |
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There is something to be said about musical acts that prominently feature rad analog synths in nearly all of their press photos. Usually, I say, “Holy shit, look at that synth,” or I mutter a ton of Yosemite Sam-esque curses under my breath because I can't afford such luxurious toys. More often than not, the former is the case and I end up spending more time than I should trying to find out what the artist in question is playing on every song. This has contributed to my dwindling social life more than once. People will ask me to go to the bar, and I'll tell them I'm doing homework. Sometimes I feel really awful lying to my friends like that, but they know not how deep a synth geek's love runs for such scavenger hunts. Perhaps I picked Neon Indian for this month's review because the synth he's proudly displaying in the bulk of his photos is one near and dear to my heart: the Korg MS-20. Perhaps I picked Neon Indian because his music is completely awesome. Yeah, you're right, it's both. Most would pick a band solely for their music. Usually I do too, but the thing is, I have a real weak spot for the Korg MS-10. It's in my ears. Way out in internet hype-ville, about six months ago, the still waters surrounding the name “Neon Indian” got to swirling. I first got the bead on NI around four or five months ago. One of my internet feelers really had his finger on this guy's artistic pulse early on in the game, and I was sent an mp3 of Deadbeat Summer. Not everything thrown against my wall sticks, and this did not. Rather than delete it, I decided instead to stow it away in the cache of “Stuff I'll probably never listen to again,” right next to that new Goldfrapp record. A month or two ago, through the power of the reading/iTunes Shuffle combination, I found myself being distracted from my book more than usual. Eventually, the music leaking out of my speakers forced me to stick a nearby scrap of paper in my book and glance at the computer. What I discovered surprised me – but just a little. Neon Indian was playing, the same song no less, and I was really into it. I was only “kind of” surprised because this happens fairly regularly. I think I'm the worst music listener ever. Psychic Chasms is the name of NI's first full-length. Fittingly, the record kicks off with the previously-mentioned Deadbeat Summer. I should pause a second to make a note here; how many times has the following situation reared its ugly head: upon finding a band, the first song the listener hears is often their favorite after perusing the band’s entire catalog. Too many, right? That said, I'm pleased to announce that Deadbeat Summer is not the best song on this record. Neon Indian sounds a lot like the Postal Service would have if Ben Gibbard wasn't as much of a self-righteous butthole. The entire record is harvested from long-forgotten analog synth patches and traces of bleeps that you will only hear on the most obscure Depeche Mode tunes. Because his MS-20 is patchable, the man behind Neon Indian (Alan Palermo) has an almost endless array of sounds at his fingertips, and it shows. Each song is meticulous crafted from largely indistinguishable layers of sound. Though it might be an off base comparison, in one of my previous reviews, I chided Animal Collective for being too transparent. This record smears up Animal Collective's production methods, something they as musicians pride themselves on. If you've Myspaced Neon Indian (which I'm sure you have by now), you may have seen that he's playing at Mississippi Studios on November 17th. He's playing with Guidance Counselor, and you'd be a fool not to go. There is no clever metaphor here. Go or you're an idiot.  |
Comments
I give you 10 uber-points for obscurity. Way to go! Win!