March 4, 2010

 Navigation

   Home Page

 News & Features

   News

 Columns & Opinions

   Publisher's Note

   Boomers

   Pinings

   Longshots

   Techie

 Pop Culture

   Film

   TV

   Books
   Video Games
   CD Reviews

 Living

   Food

   Wine

   Beer

 Music

   Articles

   Music Roundup

   Live Music/DJs

   MP3 & Podcasts

   Bandmates

 Arts

   Theater

   Art

 Find A Hippo

   Manchester

   Nashua

 Classifieds

   View Classified Ads

   Place a Classified Ad

 Advertising

   Advertising

   Rates

 Contact Us

   Hippo Staff

   How to Reach The Hippo

 Past Issues

   Browse by Cover


One For the Team, Ghosts
Afternoon Records, March 16

My office is a pop-culture Chernobyl, and somewhere in here there’s a book I was supposed to review called Here Come the Regulators, palmed off on me because Hippo’s book editor obviously enjoys her petty torments watching me get all “why, the unmitigated turpitude!” about mediocre writing. But it’s a small world; little did I know that the Minneapolis hipster who wrote it (it’s a how-to for starting your own record company, mostly common-sense stuff) actually had what it takes to, you know, make it in music. A relentless hook-storm here, even in the face of scarily repetitive riffing, but one could argue the latter’s a necessary evil owing to the unique interplay between Ian Anderson’s (no, not the Jethro Tull guy) grunge-muddy axe and Grace Fiddler’s shoegaze-blaring synth. Their voices are simply nuts together, hypersonic and uninhibitedly good like the Drug Rug kids, but the “indie scene” (whatever the hell that is) is too small for something this, the latest entry in the growing trend of serious album-albums, like it’s 1976 and these two are playing some sort of new-jack George and Tammy shtick to vick some numbers from Supertramp and Stevie Wonder. Scrape the best thing about Tokyo Police Club against the surface of Arcade Fire, leach in some Glasvegas and it’s this. A — EWS