the school: "the grass is always greener on the other side"

it's no surprise that the school list phil spector, ellie greenwich, carole king and brian wilson as influences on their facebook page. they have clearly studied in depth the hits of the '50s and '60s. the cardiff band's newest album, reading too much into things like everything, is a modest 12 tracks and clocks in at just 29 minutes. seems short but it makes sense. an LP from the '60s has only 15 minutes per side and the album is clearly an homage. just take a listen to "the grass is always greener on the other side," which sounds a helluva lot like the crystals' "da doo ron ron."

chairlift: "met before" and "take it out on me"

i've had chairlift's newest album something in my library for some time but couldn't bring myself to listen to it. that's because i associate them and their best-known tune, "bruises," with some painful events that were happening in my life at the time of the song's release. some songs just do that, you know? and i wasn't keen on being reminded. but things have changed so i decided to give something a whirl. i'm sure glad i did. the thing that struck me most was caroline polachek's elegant vocals. on tunes like "take it out on me" you can almost visualize her tongue wrapping around certain lyrics especially on the chorus: forget forgiveness/forget all the rules/just please don't do it here/bring on the fire/cause business is cool/and sophie's got somewhere to be. "met before," another standout track, is given a modern baroque pop treatment that evokes feelings of a great mamas and papas or carpenters song.

zowie: three tracks from love demolition

zowie's been kicking around for a couple of years but she just released her full-length debut album love demolition in her native new zealand. if sugary pop confections with a bite are your thing you need look no further. if katy perry were actually talented she might sound like zowie. her latest single from the album, the ridiculously enjoyable "my calculator," is reminiscent of britney's "i wanna go," but it's no match for the album's first single, the crunchy-guitar, thumping "smash it," which was recently featured on the show "pretty little liars." oh, lord, now i truly am a teenage girl.

[ALBUM REVIEW] garbage: "not your kind of people"

by daniel samaniego

Rating: ★★★☆☆

my first rock concert was garbage on their beautifulgarbage tour at the joint in las vegas in 2002. i smoked my first cigarette after abandoned pool’s opening set in a desperate demonstration that i was cool enough to be there, desperate for shirley manson to appear on stage, or desperate just for teenage desperation’s sake. after all, i was only 17, a social misfit at school and had never been kissed. my teenage angst was sublimated into garbage idolatry – i had spent hundreds collecting what seemed like impossibly obscure import singles; (for die-hard garbage fans, referred to as “darklings,” b-sides are the most beloved of all garbage tracks) and on that night had waited hours, ticket in-hand to get front and center for my sex, nicotine, and rock 'n' roll initiation. i knew every lyric. ("shut your mouth," "i think i’m paranoid" and "i’m only happy when it rains" forged the basis for my sonic adolescent rebellion.) shirley’s élan was the exact manifestation of my desire: androgynous, sugary and venomous - yet articulate; athletic, but delicate, darker and edgier than my other pop idols. the band played forcefully– but not at the expense of glamour. the music was controlled and refined – like on the records but louder, way louder. i developed a musical sensibility (this growing out of shirley’s diligent guidance), and began my life as a bitch of rock n’ roll.

after a seven year absence, just a week shy of my ten year anniversary as a garbage pledge, the band has released their new studio album not your kind of people. the lead single, “blood for poppies” (the music video for which is a must see – a clever homage to buñuel’s discrete charm of the bourgeouise – an apt allusion considering the band members curious position as forty-something, veteran rock stars) is an addictive, eclectic concoction; the ambivalence of which is found only in garbage’s best songs. a funky bass line, the nastiest of crunchy guitars, and pulsating synths provide an exquisite ground for shirley’s lyrics, brooding as they are hopeful, a hypnotic wail a la sioux slithers in and out of the verses:

i hate the things i think about you when i'm all alone
i know you're tough but i've been gone for so long
i play the memories of you inside my head
so all those pictures of us burn and radiate
watch the clouds and i'm falling, falling through the cracks
head beats and the heart is pounding fast
off the ground into the starry dark
into your arms i'm falling
i'm falling
i'm falling

frenetic opener "automatic systematic habit," a playful, but damning send-off to a litany of frenemies is a welcome reprise of the band’s techno-phile geekery, as high octane and anxious as anything on version 2.0.

on most garbage albums, the noisy wall-to-wall aggression of the first half dozen tracks relents to an atmospheric moodiness on the second half of the lp. not your kind of people breaks the formula, shifting tempo restlessly between each track – throbbing all the way until the elegant closer, "beloved freak." for the band’s legion of fans -- queers, misfits, and beautiful losers -- shirley is a sex deity, sage and fairy godmother, and she has sent us a potent message: nothing good was ever free/no one gets it/none sees/here you stand beloved freak/you’re not alone.

there is a weary frankness to the songwriting here that is compelling: it’s a heart-to-heart with an old friend, something between a call-to-arms and an order to march on. for this loveless freak-a-zoid, this all sounds bloody good. and i’ll be waiting, early, and as excited as my seventeen-year old self in line to see them on tour. i’ll come alone, no cigarette this time. i might even wear my size XS, doll pink, garbage baby tee i found for a buck a few weeks back. maybe. just to prove i still have what it takes, and maybe for the joy of freaking boys out, just because i can.

the music cannot help but elicit pangs of nostalgia. after all, garbage was such a visual and successful band of the late 1990s who formed a powerful bond with a generation of darklings with stories like my own. but whereas with earlier studio efforts, a constant criticism was that garbage’s own musical influences cut too close to the fore. not your kind of people mines garbage’s own sonic canon – sounding, well ,garbage-y. not like any one album in particular, but chunky slices of the first four albums. it is the sound of four individuals in synergy, returning triumphantly, albeit cautiously, to the music that made them stars.