|
|
Apollo Up!
Friday · alchemize
If the phrase “Chariots of Fire” only makes you think of William Blake poetry or skinny, pasty-white British dudes running on a beach in slow motion to the tinkling sounds of Vangelis, you haven’t heard the new album by Apollo Up! The Nashville trio’s recently released album shares a name with the Oscar-winning 1981 film (the title of which is actually lifted from a short Blake poem), but there’s nothing slo-mo about Apollo Up!’s Chariots of Fire. The band’s vigorous sound jumps from the speakers, their gas-pedals all but glued to the floor, but it’s Apollo Up’s songwriting that is their most compelling attribute. A brash mix of etched-in-your-mind melodies and interesting song construction, when you hear an Apollo Up! song, it’s going to take an instant onset of Alzheimer’s to make you forget it anytime soon.
The trio began in 2002 and joined the roster of Tennessee-based indie, Theory 8 (also home to up-and-comers Forget Cassettes, in which Apollo Up! singer/guitarist Jay Phillips plays bass). The label released the band’s Light the End and Burn It Through in 2004, and, while a strong debut, in hindsight it merely sounds like a pencil-sketch of what Apollo Up! is capable of.
With a brawny rhythmic base consummately laid down by drummer Jereme Frey and bassist Mike Shepherd, Phillips uncoils stinging guitar lashes and delivers those sticky melodies in a voice that sounds like a still-hungry Costello, with all of Elvis’ gruff, throaty splendor (Phillips’ way with words isn’t too far from EC’s either).
While hooks abound, the band throws in plenty of unexpected bridges throughout the songs, keeping the listeners on their toes as they get drawn in deeper by the catchiness. They also show some versatility on tracks like “Cut Up,” a groovy, slanted Soul song, complete with horn punctuation. But overall, this is slashing, spiky Post Punk/Pop at its finest — Chariots tracks “Walking The Plank” and “No Song” are two of the most memorable Pop songs you’ll hear all year, period. The trio’s early-evening appearance at Cincinnati’s Desdemona music festival recently was one of the highlights of the event, as the band pumped out a staggering, sweaty set that seemed to convert a good number of fest-goers into fervent Apollo Up! fans. It’s a safe bet that many of those who witnessed their DesFest set will be on hand for this show Friday at alchemize (the club owned by DesFest braintrust Nick Spencer). They more than proved they deserve the exclamation point at the end of their moniker. (Mike Breen)
Marc Broussard with John McLaughlin
Tuesday · 20th Century Theater
The first impression one might glean from the cover shot of Marc Broussard on his 2004 major label debut, Carencro, might be of a new Pop sensation making a bid for legitimacy away from the stereotyped restraints of his boy band roots. Brother, would you be off course.
The 24-year-old Louisiana native (his album title tributes his hometown) has Pop chops to be sure, but his bayou heritage gives him an essential education in Blues, Jazz and an almost supernatural ability to channel the history of Southern Soul. Take Carencro‘s opening track, “Home”; as Broussard uses his soulful baritone like a young John Hiatt to deliver his “I’m A Man”-rooted rocker, Louisiana slide guitar legend Sonny Landreth peels off incendiary licks with the same furious abandon. It’s a great set-up for an album that veers effortlessly from Pop sweetness (“Rocksteady”) to Soul/Blues (“The Beauty of Who You Are”) to John Mayerish Pop/Blues (“Save Me”).
Broussard comes by his musicality honestly; his father is Louisiana Hall of Fame guitarist Ted Broussard, who is all over Carencro as a performer (and co-writer of “Home”). And if you want proof of Broussard’s legitimacy, beyond Landreth’s appearance on “Home,” take a look at his guest list of performers on Carencro (which includes renowned percussionist Lenny Castro and guitarist Julian Coryell) and co-writers (Folk/Pop journeyman Martin Sexton, Country favorite Radney Foster, Nashville denizen Jay Joyce), and the broad-reaching roll call of artists that he’s opened for over the past three years (the Dave Matthews Band, Willie Nelson, O.A.R., Maroon 5, moe., Gavin DeGraw and a host of others).
Broussard’s accomplishments to date are impressive to be sure, but his independent 2002 debut EP, Momentary Setback, recorded before Broussard could legally drink, was clear evidence he was destined for great things. And if you’re headed to the show (and why wouldn’t you be?), keep an eye out for Broussard’s bootleg to benefit Hurricane Katrina victims. Youth, talent and compassion — Marc Broussard is the complete package. (Brian Baker)
Lucky Boys Confusion with Army of Freshmen and Punchline
Tuesday · The Mad Hatter
“Ska/Punk from Chicago” has the same rarely-heard ring as “Division Champion Cincinnati Bengals.” For nearly a decade, the Windy City’s Lucky Boys Confusion have been defying the odds and successfully turning out an acclaimed Reggae/Rap/Rock hybrid without the often necessary benefit of a larger supporting scene.
The quintet formed in 1997, coalescing around vocalist Kaustubh Pandav and vocalist/guitarist Adam Krier who assembled the rest of the band — guitarist Joe Sell, bassist Jason Schultejann, drummer Ryan Fergus — from the remains of their former bands. Almost immediately, the group began earning a reputation as a house-party sensation and, in order to capitalize on the buzz, formed their own record label — Townstyle Records — and recorded their debut EP, What Gets Me High. LBC was soon a fixture in the Chicago scene as their Ska-fueled take on amped-up teen angst found an eager and loyal audience, necessitating a return to the studio for the band’s 1998 debut full-length, Growing Out of It.
As the swelling ranks of LBC’s following began attracting media attention, Chicago’s revered Alternative Rock radio powerhouse Q101 playlisted “Dumb Pop Song” from Growing Out of It, causing an even greater membership spike in the band’s already fervent fan club. Graduating from frat parties to legitimate gigs at some of Chicago’s most renowned venues, LBC released another ecstatically received EP in 2000, The Soapbox Spectacle, before entering the major label derby and signing with Elektra Records in 2001.
Their first Elektra release, Throwing the Game, gave LBC their first real national exposure and spawned the 2001 college radio hit, “Fred Astaire.” In 2003, Commitment offered a similar situation with the cult favorite “Hey Driver.” Sadly, just as LBC’s momentum was gaining, Elektra was dissolved, ending the band’s major label affiliation. With barely a pause, Lucky Boys Confusion has toured the country relentlessly over the past two years to maintain their hard-fought fan base. This year sees the resurrection of Townstyle, now distributed through Sony/BMG, and a brand new EP, fittingly titled How to Get Out Alive. If anyone knows the finer points of that situation, it would be Lucky Boys Confusion. (Brian Baker)
This article appears in Jul 5-11, 2006.
