These Are Powers
Terrific Seasons / Taro Tarot
(Dead Oceans)

Bands influenced by the late ’70s/early ’80s post-punk era are plentiful nowadays, but not so many are inspired by the NYC-centered No Wave movement of the same time frame—the sinister, less accessible, more atonal sibling of post-punk.  The attention-grabbing Brooklyn/Chicago trio These Are Powers is reminiscent of certain No Wave acts, from the noisy, hair-raising tension of Mars and early Sonic Youth to the impassioned, barked non-melodic vocals of Lydia Lunch.
The label Dead Oceans has reissued the band’s two main releases—their debut full-length Terrific Seasons from 2007 and their 6-track EP Taro Tarot from earlier this year, and Terrific Seasons explodes with its opener, “You Come with Nothing,” introducing a feverish, propulsive, tom-and-click-heavy drumming style from Bill Salas, processed bass throbs from Pat Noecker, and Anna Barie’s disquieting vocals and distorted, bent-string guitar work.  The 20-minute track “Pizza Master Ice Cream Palace” is an exercise in endurance, spiritually akin to the more arduous works of Glenn Branca; listeners will probably either find it maddening or compelling, as it roars like a locomotive rattling down a track, using gradually shifting rhythms and ghostly minimalist guitar skronks.
Possibly the band’s most distinctive song is “Chipping Ice” on Taro Tarot, with marching-band-speed-freak drumming, guitars that sound like power tools, and bass noises that sound simultaneously manic, ill, and violent; after one minute, the music stops to unload an eruption of coughing, and the song picks up its furious pace, marked with cyclic high-frequency screams from Barie.  “Cockles” is another standout, featuring an interesting balance between the anxious droning guitar tones and the pounding release of the drums.  Terrific Seasons and Taro Tarot are equally strong and have an intriguing dark energy—creepy and stimulating, like some primal force lurking in the alley of a modern city block.

Deerhoof
Offend Maggie
(Kill Rock Stars)

The unclassifiable San Francisco outfit Deerhoof has had a remarkable run of albums, each of which expands the band’s reach into new territory and makes them more difficult to pin down.  Speaking in the broadest terms, the things that a person will likely hear on a Deerhoof album are its odd dichotomy of fist-pumping classic rawk riffs and wide-eyed cuteness, an unfettered weirdness, and absolutely tight performances.  Their latest album, Offend Maggie, begins with “The Tears and Music of Love,” featuring huge, penetrating drum beats and a riff reminiscent of Free’s “All Right Now.”  It’s a fantastic stomper, but it’s not the fresh, mind-blowing track in the way that, say, “The Perfect Me” was, which opened their previous album Friend Opportunity by kicking down the door, running around, and setting off confetti bombs.  For a brief moment, I thought, “Is Offend Maggie the album where Deerhoof runs short of creative steam?”  A few songs into the album, that notion wanes, and by the time one gets to the amazing second half, that suggestion is totally extinguished.
Offend Maggie is their first album with new member Ed Rodriguez on guitar, joining founding member Greg Saunier (drums), Satomi Matsuzaki (vocals and bass), and John Dieterich (guitar).  The title track starts with a folk-rock acoustic guitar pattern, adding revelatory Pete Townshend guitar chords and Matsuzaki’s pure vocals, and the album’s cutest track is “Basket Ball Get Your Groove Back,” with taut drum beats and fuzzy guitar glissandos, mirroring lines like “Bunny jump, bunny jump, bunny bunny.”  The album really takes off on its second half, where the songs seem to be even more impatient, scattered, and sonically fascinating.  It hops around from the acoustic guitar-driven, hopeful pop of “Family of Others” to the mounting nervousness of “Eaguru Guru,” which changes its mood multiple times and ends with a devastating prog-rock finish.  The strangest track on the album is “This Is God Speaking,” an incoherent fragment with ear splitting electronics, steel drum sounds, and distorted vocals, and the disc ends with two sturdy tracks that splinter and reassemble in a confounding manner that Deerhoof is apt to deliver.  The lesson learned from listening to Offend Maggie is that one should never doubt Deerhoof.

Marnie Stern
This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That
(Kill Rock Stars)
Guitar shredding can be seen by some as an ostentatious display of male onanism, but if one considers shredding as simply a set of playing techniques, it’s gender-neutral, as it should be.  NYC musician Marnie Stern is comfortable with playing such guitar licks, defying not only gender roles but also what’s accepted among underground rock circles.  Here’s a different but similar example: some early ’80s new-wave synth sounds, while earnestly played at the time, may sound dated and silly, but today they’re embraced by revivalists.  Stern’s use of guitar tapping (hitting the fretboard with both hands for fast patterns—think Eddie Van Halen) is typically associated with posturing arena rock stars, and she doesn’t use it to merely spice up a song—it makes the song.  So, although Stern’s guitar playing may seem ironic, it’s not executed with a dry detachment.
Quite the contrary: on Stern’s second album, the songs utterly explode with vigor and excitement.  Her team includes bassist John-Reed Thompson and drummer Zach Hill, best known as a member of Hella.  Hill is a perfect drummer to accompany Stern’s shred patterns, being tight and frenetic, controlled yet frequently unpredictable.  Stern’s voice is high with a pop timbre, and her multi-tracked vocals sometimes mirror the guitar parts in monotonic layers, being equally piercing.  The album is pop and rock without being pop-rock, using the lively sheen of pop but not its limited structures.  Elements of prog and math rock are performed intensely, but not in a heavy-handed way, and fans of bands like Poster Children, Deerhoof, and Battles could easily become converts.  A female guitarist who shreds may seem like a novelty, but such a notion isn’t unprecedented (Google “The Great Kat” for starters).  The truly novel thing about Marnie Stern’s excellent sophomore album is just how infectious, stirring, and enjoyable a listen it is.

Kenosha Kid
Steamboat Bill Jr.
(Nowt Records)
There’s often an obligation, when producing scores for silent films, to have a presentation that’s as authentic as possible—like something heard in an actual theatre in the ’20s.  Sure, the purist concept has its merits, but silent-film aficionados have certainly heard hours upon hours of familiar accompaniments of jaunty ragtime piano and Wurlitzer organ music.  Outfits such as the Alloy Orchestra have a pointedly non-traditional approach to silent film scores (using synths and heavy percussion); it’s certainly interesting but may prove to be distracting for some viewers.  Somewhere in the middle of these two approaches lies that of Kenosha Kid, an ensemble formed by composer/guitarist Dan Nettles and based in Athens, Georgia.  The band goes beyond old-timey recipes and manages to strike a pleasing balance between maintaining a reverent nostalgia and intermingling different styles.
Kenosha Kid’s latest release is a completel

y original, 70-minute score for the 1928 Buster Keaton film Steamboat Bill, Jr., and it’s available in three formats: a CD/DVD set or as digital downloads in the MP3 format (music only) and MP4 format (video with music).  It meticulously follows the action on the screen and resists being overbearing; it’s careful to work with the picture, even providing sound effects (a chugging train, a crying baby, a clock chime, etc.) throughout.  Ten musicians are featured on the album, playing a variety of wind, brass, and stringed instruments, along with accordion, organ, and drums.  It would be a disservice to peg it down to just one genre, but it’s perhaps closest to jazz, with the temperament of John Lurie’s Lounge Lizards and the more amenable side of ’80s downtown NYC jazz.

Various flavors are present, like a blues style (appropriately on cue with the “muddy waters” inter-title), a dignified march tempo, or even a moment of soul-funk, along the lines of Sly and the Family Stone.  Mirroring the immediate mood of the film, the score can be chaotic when necessary, or warm and inviting, in the case of the reoccurring main theme.