Chief Thundercloud/Walrus split CS (2013)

Just in time for creeping fall blues, Halifax drops two offerings in one on ya. Walrus is a tried and true DrugPunk fave, while Chief Thundercloud slipssome downer blooz your way that forms a nice contrast with the former's sedate neopsych.

It's a dicey proposition, jacking riffs from Daniel Johnston: mere competence at evoking DJ's sound don't cut it. There's two ways you can go about aping the great D.J. The first is to act as "quirky"* as Johnston is on early favorites like "I eat cigarettes." This is the tack favored by dipshits such as Devendra Banheart, who mostly just come off sounding like shitbirds whose parents bought them a recording studio and a bag of mushrooms as a present for graduating from RISD. OR, you can go out on a limb and try to convince us that you're just as sad as Daniel Johnston. To succeed at the latter, you either have to be such a good actor, you might as well be on Broadway, or in fact be seriously deranged//depressed and walk around every day feeling like I do after polishing off a 6-pack and Tuscan red after getting in a screaming match with an ex.

Either way, Chief Thundercloud manages to pull it off. Of course, some of this is due to the clever use of hushed production. But he hits just the right note for when you're feeling sad but not exactly despondent, if y'knowhatImean. "Nothing's Gonna Stop" has some of the best dumb-straightforward lyrics I've heard this year. Here's the chorus: "I need you in my life [full stop] More than any other time [full stop]." Sneer all you want, can you do any better? The rest of CT's side is more of the same: wistful, forlorn, and subdued strings of autumn anomie.

Walrus, true to form, continues down the road carved on previous splits and brief EPs. "Brian" is a jaunty bit of airpop: almost-bouncy drumming, truncated singing, and minimal guitar. "Little City People" might be my favorite Walrus tune yet, gliding by under the radar sounding like  Jefferson Airplane outtake with a majestically surprising finish. Listen to it instead of reading my description of it.

Taken together this is a dynamic split-which is more of an achievement than it sounds, given that most splits I've ever heard might as well be a full album by a single band, given how similar the two sides are. Play the Chief Thundercloud side when yr broken up over yr ex but already have a new one in the works, play Walrus the morning after you've hooked up with said new rose for the first time.

Walrus lives here, while Chief Thundercloud skulks over here.

*"quirky": a nice, pleasant euphemism that lame cunts use to paper over the fact that Johnston is a schizophrenic who, as far as I can tell, has lived his life in immense pain; mental illness isn't cute, it's sad and shouldn't be glorified by anyone, present drug punk included. 

Walrus-"1990" from split 7" (2013)

It's a weird quirk of fate that every time I get a new slice of Walrus music to review, I'm too wasted to objectively assess it. That probably plays into the band's hands, but who gives a shit, right? Paul was the Walrus anyways, blame him.

This is only one track, but it's great good fun, perfect for May. The recording quality is great (by DrugPunk standards), and Walrus sounds more confident, bordering on cocky, every time in the studio. The result is a solid piece of '60s psych that is passionate enough to avoid being mere revivalism. There are some songs you just enjoy without having a whole helluva a lot to say about them, and this is one of them,

Get fucked and have fun with Walrus here.

P.S.-what's the attraction of the '90s? Seriously? I guess economically they look great from where we're at now, but goddam were they boring as watching paint dry! Seriously!

Walrus-Soft Hands EP (2012)

Walrus seems to find me in the right mood every time they drop a new album. Odobenus Rosmarus, released earlier this year, crossed my desk in May; I was in a suitably social, outgoing mood to dig that EP's wistfully blissed out tone.

Well, now it's October, and I just want everyone to fuck off so I can drink red wine alone. The Soft Hands EP is a good soundtrack to that. The songs here use a bit more guitar and instrumentation than the synthscapes of Odobenus Rosmarus, resulting in a fuller sound that still maintains the distance that got me hooked on their earlier EP.

"It's No Myth to Me" opens with click-clack taps and gently strummed acoustic guitar. The dual vocals emphasize the casual, slow-day-on-yr-front-porch vibe. "Spirit Animal" turns up the psych factor a bit, with the vocals mixed behind some sort of radio communication sample, before reverb-drenched guitar fades in around 1:20. The song fades out with the pitter-pat of a snare drum, ushering you into "That's What Happens...," the best track on the EP. Fulfilling on the buildup of the first two tracks, cresting cymbals and acoustic guitar introduce tenderly remote female vocals, with the guy crooning near-incoherently in the background. The whole EP exudes the atmosphere of Bardo Pond, and nowhere more than with "That's What Happens..." Halfway through, the song brightens up a bit, only to drift back out of focus as it ends.

"Long Walks" really comes off like a Fleet Foxes tune. In fact, I sorta like some of Fleet Foxes' stuff, but I like this more 'cause I can listen to a whole Walrus EP without skipping through it, so check this out if you like Fleet Foxes but haven't heard good music. "Tender Buttons" is good too, but the Percoset kicked in a quarter of the way through it, so you'll hafta take my word on it.

Make Walrus yr autumnal soundtrack, and buy the EP, here.

Walrus-Odobenus Rosmarus EP (2012)

Halifax's fraternal duo Walrus, unlike most bands featured on Drug Punk, doesn't sound like a drug-induced car crash. Instead, Walrus is the appropriate soundtrack to wandering down the deserted back alleys and empty boulevards of your hometown in the misty rain, searching for that pretty girl (guy?) seen from a distance just the other day.

This two-song EP has a lot more texture than anything I've heard recently. "Van Dyke Brown" opens with rain patter and feels murky, in a tranquil way. The singer's voice is distant and melancholic, but not despondent. The song floats along on gentle currents of electronic percussion and effects, and fades out slowly. "Weekdays" sounds like it was recorded on a blustery day, with more hazy electro-ambience.
The EP sort of reminds me of a more concentrated, compressed version of Herzog's first EP. It's an excellent accompaniment to the merry month of May, and I recommend it.

Check it out here.