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 » The Top 30 Albums of 2010 - Fashionably, fabulously late, our favorite music (and believe me, there was a LOT) of 2010, the year that some have called the best year for music ever. And only some of those fools work here. Plenty of usual suspects, lots of ties and a few surprises that I won't spoil, including our unexpected #1.
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 » Live: Surfer Blood/The Drums at Lincoln Hall, Chicago, IL - Remember when Weezer used to put together records that you could sing along to and rock out to? That's what Surfer Blood's show was like!
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Music Reviews

Screaming Females - Castle Talk
»Screaming Females
Castle Talk
Don Giovanni
Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross - The Social Network [Original Soundtrack]
»Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
The Social Network [Original Soundtrack]
The Null Corporation
Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
Halcyon Digest
No Age - Everything in Between
»No Age
Everything in Between
Sub Pop
Robyn - Body Talk Pt. 1/ Body Talk Pt. 2
Body Talk Pt. 1/ Body Talk Pt. 2
The Walkmen - Lisbon
»The Walkmen
Fat Possum
As The Last Light Drains
Victory Records

Rating: NR/10 ?

October 1, 2004
How the fuck did MTV become as huge as it is? Seriously, at this moment only the doctors who prescribe Ritalin have more control over the kids today. Unfortunately, sometimes I see the stuff that they play now and wonder if this is the same crap that the channel rammed down my throat ten years ago when I was a kid, recycled. I could swear that MTV was cool. I'm pretty sure they weren't false advertising then, like they are now, when they called it Music Television. If you tuned in at the right time you could catch pop, rap, indie and the latest four-minute skin flick disguised as a video.

Besides the fact that they actually played more than ten videos a day, they also had quality shows like Yo MTV Raps, 120 Minutes, and Headbanger's Ball. That's right, I said Headbanger's Ball. You'd be lying to me and to yourself if you said that you didn't stay up late hoping to catch videos for "Welcome to the Jungle" or "One" or "Hot For Teacher". As good as some of those videos were though, the show was kind of a crapshoot. For all of the Metallicas, Guns n' Roses and Slayers you had to sit through the countless other bands who looked like they blew their entire video budget on Jack Daniels and a smoke machine. A 250-pound singer would grunt like a feral pig while stolen guitar riffs made you want to poke your eardrums out with a dull Number 2 pencil. Their video would consist of a few shots of drunken, shirtless frat boys, homoerotically moshing, the band slovenly lounging around back stage, drinking beer and cavorting with seventeen year old tweaker inbreds, and some candles for the soft light needed to get in the "metal mood".

If I had heard Freya's album, As The Last Light Drains, without knowing when it had come out I would have guessed in the undignified final days of Headbanger's Ball. Rikki Rachman would have already shorn his flowing, Winger-esque locks and taken on the persona of the slick, sleeved, wife beater-clad Korn-groupie metal-head. Their alterna/metal/hard-core would have fit in perfectly back then. It might have even been, dare I say, ahead of its time. Instead, As The Last Light Drains is released in 2003 and ends up being just another album comprised of "this-slash-this-slash-this-slash-that to create a truly unique sound". At a time when cross-breeding genres are creating distinctive sounds, Freya is just another face in the crowd.

Over the course of the album, Freya did manage to surprise me with a few above average songs, but unfortunately those moments were too few and far between to break the monotony of the entire album. The thirteen songs tend to blend together to become a bludgeoning thirty-three minute metal marathon on the ears. I could only listen to two or three songs in a row before my attention would wander off to other things such as a wall or the ceiling or the back of my hand.

A lot of people will defend Freya by saying that their members used to be in Earth Crisis. Big fucking deal. As The Last Light Drains is an average album from a group with an above average pedigree.

Reviewed by Kevin Alfoldy
An aspiring global adventurer who cut his teeth on the sandy beaches and dirty bitches of Southern California, Kevin Alfoldy now spends his non-vacation days in Brooklyn, New York, where he occasionally finds the time to rub the crust out of his eyes long enough to contribute reviews and feature articles for LAS. A longtime staff member, Kevin also captains the tattered, often half-sunk raft of EPmd, our irregular column of EP reviews.

See other reviews by Kevin Alfoldy



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