» Full Dark, No Stars - Stephen King's new novella questions mankind's ability to trust others.
[02.21.2011 by Bridget Doyle]


 » 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.
[12.24.2010 by The LAS Staff]


 » 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!
[11.04.2010 by Cory Tendering]

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
For Stars
...It Falls Apart
Future Farmer Records

Rating: 6/10 ?

January 24, 2005
If everyone tries to emulate the reality that is theirs, and creation is, indeed, the great mime, ...It Falls Apart was pasted together while engulfed in that callous post-breakup phase - where faces are sallow, brows are knitted and reason finds itself being thrown to the wind, so that bare-faced sentimentalism may be embraced all the more wholeheartedly. The album sees For Stars uprooting the pastoral guitar romps and fey campfire folk hues of their past, to plant maudlin elegy's of quivering piano, shrilled trumpet and imploring cries set against dry nipping winds of despondent electronics.

Not a single feigned note creeps into the recording, however, and this utter sincerity is the cherub that saves the work and feelings expressed therein, regardless of how feverish and hysterical they might seem. And there are certainly some beautiful moments to be chanced upon. "In The End" awakes with sleepy-eyed piano and Carlos Foster's shaky drawl buried below a melodic duvet woven by a gritty generator hum and Tom Casey's raspy sax. Before long, a keyboard begins to flutter like a gay birdcall in spring and is answered by a coda of plucked harmonics. In staccato fashion, these tweeting electronic calls coalesce with rustling guitar arpeggios and saccharine vibraphone into a wild iridescent haze. After such sights, one may turn towards the irregular ambient textures of "If It Falls Apart" with its striking pitch configurations and boisterous crystalline tones and find reason for repeated visits. Indeed, wherever ones attention is placed, what becomes apparent is maturity in sound. It's a virtuoso performance full of muted notes, plucked resonance, bristling clusters, elliptical melodies, rolled chords and tremolos. Such instances craft a demeanor more compressed yet spontaneous, while carrying a sad sense of inevitability as it snakes and swirls through a fluid progression of dramatic events.

Yet this brazen sentimentalism is the album's seraph and devil. For as honest and beguiling as Foster's almost feminine falsetto might be, the themes being touched upon and, more importantly, the way in which Forster dabs at them so simply ("You don't seem to understand I'm the only who cares" and "I guess you won't be calling anymore"), causes this otherwise fine artistic expression to be slandered significantly. By the time ...It Falls Apart's conclusion, with "If It Falls Apart" and "Lend Out Your Love", more thought seems to have spilt into the words, but by this point many of the blemishes are permanent.

"Lend Out Your Love" is the album's denouement, fashioned by a simple, silky acoustic guitar as Forster sings with the innocence of a child who has just memorized his first nursery rhyme. The song has a simple charm and its only fault might be found in its brevity. Much more might have been developed given time and thought - and while such a simple, bare-faced approach is not without its charms, the content of these honest efforts nevertheless leave something to be desired in the form of artistic ingenuity.

Reviewed by Max Schaefer
Nocturnal qualms and eyes that brim like lamps betoken slender sketches, poetry and short stories strewn alongside piano playing, a fiddling of knobs and murmured dialogue with a medley of electronic gizmo\'s. A twenty-one year old person lodged within the University of Victoria, Max harvests organic sounds on a sullen sampler, watching water unwind like two broad lengths of ribbon and nursing a book below the canopy of a cheery-tree. Max believes that the world is made present by people\'s presence in it and that art is one such way in which a distinctive disclosure might be crafted.

See other reviews by Max Schaefer



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