Hey all, it's your second chance. The Rosebuds are going to be at Iota Monday.
Pitchfork reviews below (I can't access allmusic on my home Mac):
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The Rosebuds
Make Out
[Merge; 2003]
Rating: 7.3
Following in the bold footsteps of Merge Records pioneer Mac McCaughan, The Rosebuds, Merge's latest riled-up, power-pop endeavor, are pounding out the same sort of elastic, hooky guitar rock that McCaughan himself once used to kick out with Superchunk. Culled directly from the Merge backyard (Raleigh, NC), The Rosebuds are an energetic three-piece (guitar, keyboards, drums) harboring a bold, arm-flailing rhythmic tendency that should earn them piles of favorable comparisons to contemporary dance-punks Hot Hot Heat and Radio 4. But it's The Rosebuds' full-on embrace of pop formula-- big, rousing choruses, twitchy keyboard bits, insistently bouncing drums-- that ultimately makes them such an addictive outfit.
The Rosebuds' unquestioning approval of all things sweet and melodic is also what makes them bend, occasionally, a little bit twee: you won't find the slightest indication of a disdain-soaked smirk lurking beneath their canny synths and grinning vocals, and while that earnestness might seem unbearable on paper, it can be enormously engaging in action. Their debut, Make Out, incites the same kind of giggly, brainless exhilaration that goes along with actually making out-- and appropriately, it's only thirty-five minutes long.
"Kicks in the Schoolyard" is an exuberant, Kinks-ish bash (at barely 2½ minutes, it also cuts out before anyone can ask too many questions) that sees Kelly Crisp's keyboards and Ivan Howard's guitar taking equal swipes at the melody, ably backing up Howard's full, sloping vocals. "My Downtown Friends" (aside from hosting the inarguable city-kid mantra "we're going downtown/ Trying to get in for free") offers more of the same feel-good, 50s-inspired pop, complete with a wailed "yeah, yeah, yeah" refrain. "Drunkard's Worst Nightmare" is a bit darker (although still far from nightmarish), with some distorted guitar soloing slipping in and out of a high, howled chorus.
Overall, Make Out tends to skew slightly retro, but lovingly so-- the record's clean, straightforward keyboards and vigorous beats invoke the late 80s without making any grand, iconoclastic statements about what that nod might or might not mean. The band's at their best when they stick to glowing, enthusiastically up-tempo, guitar-led tracks. Some of the ballads here can seem unnecessarily gooey or unbearably repetitive (see "Big Heartbreak", "The Make Out Song")-- enough so that they may test the tolerance of even the mostpatient power-poppers. Mostly, though, Make Out is a quick, breathless somersault, all kicking feet and nodding heads, mouths wide open in dumb, singalong bliss.
-Amanda Petrusich, September 25th, 2003
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Camera Obscura
Underachievers Please Try Harder
[Merge; 2004]
Rating: 8.0
Many of the most enchanting and popular indie pop records of the past few years have been filed under lap-pop/indietronica. By marrying The Field Mice's shimmering sonics with (where applicable) lovelorn lyrical impulses, those on the Morr and City Centre Offices rosters, Múm, The Postal Service, Freescha, Casino Versus Japan and Broadcast have been providing the warm hugs for the Darla set that used to be administered by post-C-86 jangle-pop. True, The Aislers Set, The Lucksmiths, and The Clientele have continued to proudly (and successfully) wave the flag for more classic melancholia, but in the first couple of years of this new millennium, too few other have bands managed to approach their charm.
However, in the past year or so, there's been a shift back toward the more traditional indie pop thanks to the slight return of Belle & Sebastian and records by Saturday Looks Good to Me, PAS/CAL, Pipas, The Happy Couple, Ballboy and, most of all, Camera Obscura. The Scottish band's second album, Underachievers Please Try Harder, captures a portion of the wispy bedsit magic that used to mark some of The Field Mice's best work and boosts it with the lush, "Hazey Jane II"-like chamber-pop of Belle & Sebastian's first flourishes of glory. (Admittedly, as a co-ed, Glaswegian sextet, B&S comparisons would have come fast and easy even if Camera Obscura hadn't once featured Richard Colburn on drums or got their foot in the door of public consciousness with a single produced by Stuart Murdoch, "Eighties Fan".)
Underachievers was released in the UK last year on Spain's Elefant Records, and now Merge spreads the word in the U.S. and adds B-sides "I Don't Want to See You" and "Footloose and Fancyfree". Ignoring the infantilism of some of the more twee indie pop, Camera Obscura scold immature relationship decisions on "Teenager", offer tender advice on "A Sister's Social Agony", and go on the make on "Suspended from Class". Their honest, wide, and adult approach to heartbreak, romantic liaisons, and escapism is extended to the subtle range of influence-- most of which is shown off on the tracks sung by John Henderson. "Before You Cry" is a graceful nod to Nashville, "Your Picture" is a dead ringer for Leonard Cohen, and Motown stomper "Let Me Go Home" is the best of their soul boy all-nighters.
Camera Obscura keep their cards closer to their indie pop chest when Tracyanne Campbell is alone on the mic, and, despite the success of the aforementioned tracks, are all the better for it. "A Sister's Social Agony" apes the gentle harmonies and chimes of sibling-led vocal groups Four Freshman and The Beach Boys-- an appropriate and sly arrangement for the subject matter. Best of all are the gentle, luminous "Suspended from Class" and "Books Written for Girls", each of which feature self-deprecating lyrics, tender arrangements, and a lifeline for heart-on-sleeve acoustic pop.
-Scott Plagenhoef, January 20th, 2004
