Food Flavored Album Review: I'm Not Alright by John Joseph Brill

My 13th favorite song last year belonged to the "brandy-warm baritone songsmith," John Joseph Brill. This year, JJ Brill has been hard at work on his brand new EP, I'm Not Alright, which was released about two weeks ago. I decided to give I'm Not Alright the Food Flavored Album treatment alongside a Chickpea Indian Bowl I whipped up the other night (except I was out of chickpeas so it became a Cannellini Indian Bowl).

JJ Brill spent his early 20s as lead man in the London based heavy rock outfit Burning Beard. In 2013 he wanted to explore a more confessional and honest form of songwriting. He left Burning Beard and went out on his own. It was here, as a solo artist, that he began writing and performing songs about heartbreak, death and friendship. "I'm Not Alright," the EP opener and the one the EP is named for, explores the former. The track was born out of a breakup that left Brill out of both money and home. The more he put into "I'm Not Alright" the more it transitioned into something more than just a breakup song. It is about people who are hurting or scared or not well having the right to just speak up and say "I'm Not Alright." The music for the track has a relaxing and comfortable 80's feel to it.

"I'm Not Alright" exists on this EP in the same space that the beans take up in the Indian Bowl. For one, the chickpeas being replaced by cannellini (can this still be an Indian bowl then?) is definitely something that traditionalists will claim is not alright. More than that, beans are a comfort food, something that can turn a mood because they remind you of something in your past that was positive. Beans are also super cheap. They are the kind of meal that you eat when you are broke and/or broken.  


"Smoke," the second track on the EP, is an atmospheric electro-pop ballad that slowly builds in passionate intensity. It seems to be about escapism and turning to vices to forget the pain of meeting someone that fulfills everything you've ever wanted and then losing them ("You were all I wanted...wrapped up in smoke").

In the Indian Bowl those vices would be symbolized by the chickpea sauce. This sauce is created by combining all kinds of powders (curry, cumin, cinnamon, ground ginger, coriander), tomatoes and coconut milk. These items, when put together just so, can deliver you from your heartbreak...at least for a little while. Then, like all vices, that feeling fades and you are back chest deep in broken-hearted suffering.



"A Place To Drown" is another ballad, although this one is steeped in piano. If "Smoke" seemed like balladry that would be found in a Future Islands discography, "A Place to Drown" is more Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. The theme of "A Place To Drown" is one that I waiver back and forth on. My first take was that JJ Brill was pouring his love out in a strangely dark way. I mean "If you need a place to drown, I'll be the water" is tragically romantic. But on repeated listen it became clear that the subject wasn't ok. He was suffering from violent outbreaks, a silent phone, a former partner's laughter and ghosts of the relationship that crumbled. So this idea of drowning, was that just another way of signifying the violence felt? Like literally, if you need to die, let me be the one that helps with that?
Whatever the case, "A Place To Drown" is haunting. It is also, in my opinion, the strongest track on the album because of its staying power.

The staying power of the Indian Bowl (and the piece that "drowns" and appears "ghostly") would have to be the coconut milk. It is also the ingredient that ties the whole recipe together.



"The Leaving Song" focuses on just that, leaving. It is about the ending and the confusion that comes along with it. The pain of hearing those words you never thought you'd hear and wondering why it had to happen ("Why'd you'd have to go and say a thing like that, such a dreadful thing as goodbye"). This song utilizes more indie rock techniques than the others. If we are considering it a ballad, which it still comes off as, it would be more of your power ballad. This song is the yin to the EP's yang. There are the backup vocals that are distant and screamed, there's also the sparks of musical elements at the end which seems like it could've come from the Postal Service.

"The Leaving Song" is like the lime in the Indian bowl. The lime is the acidic spark that ignites the dish, the yin to the coconut milk's yang (or the sour to the sweet).


John Joseph Brill's I'm Not Alright EP wraps multiple takes on ballads around painful, introspective lyrics of violent heartbreak. Most of us have been there before and can immediately relate to what Brill is dishing out. Immerse yourself. It will hurt and painfully remind but it will also perform a function that vices cannot. I'm Not Alright will help put you on the track to being alright.

Do it with an Indian Bowl of replacement beans and you'll get there twice as fast.*

*Not scientifically proven, testing is in the early stages.

Food Flavored Album Review: Recharge by the Tambo Rays

The first time I experienced Larabars was at the finish line of a half marathon. The company sent someone to hand out samples. I grabbed a handful, scarfed them down, remember liking them and then moved on. Years later, those little bars began showing up in grocery stores. Every time I thought about purchasing a box, I'd look at the price and head the other direction. Those bars, in all their plant based and gluten free glory, were definitely not cheap. To combat the drain on my wallet, I did what most adventurous kitchen types would do, I started making my own version..

Then Larabar brought out a new line of products called Larabar bites. These were essentially the bars rolled into truffle like bites. So, I started making them too. Recently I've become enamored with the double chocolate brownie bites. These bites consist of just six ingredients: dates, cocoa, dark chocolate chips, coconut flour, almonds and sea salt. In my kitchen I added a seventh, coconut shreds. To make the bites just stuff all these ingredients into a food processor and pulse until they become tiny bits. Then add a little water, pulse a few more times and voila, start rolling chocolate snowballs. While working out the logistics of this recipe, I listened to the new Tambo Rays EP, Recharge (released on July 17th via OIM Records). Both the bites and the Tambo Rays EP had a lot in common.

Recharge kicks off with the upbeat, sun soaked, pop rock of "Yes and No." According to the band it is a song about letting go of old habits, the uncertainty of wandering through new territory and confronting the difficulties that arise from leaving behind the safety net of the status quo. Hmm...sun soaked, letting go of the status quo, releasing old habits. Sounds a bit like coconut flour if you ask me. Coconut flour is born and bred from a fruit that hangs out on a tree that is found in tropical, sun soaked climates. In the bites that I created, the coconut flour took the place of traditional flour. It can be tough to let go of white flour, and it certainly is the road less traveled, but sometimes it can be so worth it. These bites were one of those times.



Recharge's second track, "Always Down" embraces the same sort of glimmering pop as "Yes and No" but the lyrics hint at something a bit more melancholy. "Always Down" was written about being there and supporting a friend who is dealing with some dark days. The necessary support is most apparent in the lines "And I'll always be there for you, situations unknown, and I'll always be there for you, to take you where you want to go to." These lines are ambiguous in the sense that they allow the darkness to remain unnamed. When a friend says they need you, it doesn't really matter what the situation is, you go. And if they need you to take them somewhere, again, the destination isn't relevant, you drive until they are satisfied. Satisfaction, underlying darkness. Not only do these words describe, "Always Down" but they could just as easily represent the chocolate chips and cocoa powder found in this recipe.



"Wrong Turn" takes the adage go big or go home and makes it reality. This isn't just a pop song. It is a sonic, tilt-a-whirl of wavy synths, moody percussion and sexy guitars. These elements provide a stylized base to prop up Sara DaMert's emotive lyrics. "Wrong Turn" is the second most evocative track on Recharge. Long after the EP fades to silence, the lines and sounds of "Wrong Turn" remain in your brain like little earworms of enthrallment. The Medjool dates used for these bites are every bit as enthralling, moody and evocative as "Wrong Turn." Medjools, because of their elevated status in the date world are often referred to as kings, diamonds or crown jewels. Not sure you can get more enthralling than that. They have a rich, sweet taste that brings to mind differing food moods like caramel, honey or cinnamon.



What ties these chocolate bites together is the almonds. The "almonds" of Recharge is the closer, "Get It Right Now." This track is the most evocative of the lot because it combines aspects of each of the previous tracks. "Get It Right Now" features some of the same sonic elements as "Wrong Turn," the upbeat, sun soaked pop of "Yes and No" and the underlying melancholy of "Always Down." Its chorus seems to say that despite the fact that you are going through or have previously gone through some tough moments, time will heal those wounds ("To fall in love it just takes time"). Same with those pesky almonds. Pulse a bit and try to roll these bites and you'll be met with the tough almond exterior. But give it some time, pulse a bit more and you'll wind up with an easily moldable nutty treat.



Recharge by the Tambo Rays and Double Chocolate Brownie Bites have a number of things in common. Ultimately what stands out is the staying power of each. This staying power is created in both of these by combining catchy immediacy with a subtle and brilliant nuance.

Food Flavored Album Review: This Album Does Not Exist by DREAMERS

When I visited Brooklyn back in July, I was limited to just one big meal in the city. I had to sift through pages and pages of bookmarks, whittle down hundreds of options to just one. I decided that my one meal should be at Champs Diner in Williamsburg. They seemed to be everything that Tampa was lacking. Completely vegan, highly recommended, delicious diner food. After choosing Champs, I figured the hard work was done. It wasn't. There were dozens of items on Champs menu that sounded amazing. How could I choose just one? While I eventually did select one, a pretty good buffalo chicken sandwich, there was another item, an opportunity cost for those economic nerds out there, on the Champs special of the day board that stayed with me long after I left Brooklyn and returned to Tampa. That item was a Cauliflower Po' Boy. According to the description, this Po' Boy included breaded cauliflower, cajun slaw, pickles and vegan bacon. I've made a version of this sandwich several times over the past month. Most of these Cauliflower Po' Boy experiences have coincided with my listening to the debut LP from DREAMERS.

DREAMERS debut, titled This Album Does Not Exist, and the Cauliflower Po' Boy actually have quite a bit in common. On the surface, both have ties to Brooklyn. The Po' Boy idea, born at Champs, while DREAMERS spent about two years living in a practice space in the city. Both recipe and album are blurred culminations of varied experiences and tastes. For DREAMERS this means that the band wrote the album while suffering through self-induced houselessness and the aforementioned two years living in a Brooklyn practice space. Also inspiring parts of the album are the band's circling of the US four times in a small van and their experience seeing countless cities and meeting new people everywhere they went. Meanwhile, the Po' Boy variety comes from its spicy hot sauce, sour pickles, fragrant Cajun spice and salty bacon. But let's not just hang out on the surface. Let's dig a bit deeper into both album and recipe and see how else album inspires recipe and vice versa.

At the top of DREAMERS This Album Does Not Exist is "Drugs," an anthemic sing-a-long that touches on millennial partying habits. Stay high, get higher, don't think for yourselves, follow along like sheep, its okay because you are still young, do it all, everything, for the drugs, you can never get enough. These partying habits, when run through a Po' Boy language translator, are similar to what I experience when it comes to pickles. F*** if I can't get enough, do it all for them, put peanut butter on them and chalk it all up to the youth that sloshes around inside. The key here is good pickles. Don't buy that s*** that sits on your grocery counters unrefrigerated. Get 'em local from whoever dabbles in pickle making. Trust me, the subtle sourness and crunch these local honeys provide will be so worth it.



Now that you've got a fist full of drugs racing through your central nervous system, DREAMERS come out firing with one of the fastest tracks on the album. "Never Too Late To Dance" is another in a long line of songs about dancing that actually make me want to leave the kitchen and turn some ballroom full of fussy bottoms on its head. This track is catchy as hell thanks to the rhythmic background, pulsating drum beats, the grouped out oh oh ohs and the "can we chase the fire from a lost romance, it's never too late to dance" chorus. Playing the same catchy as hell, fiery, stay drunk on your kiss role in the Po' Boy is the cauliflower. Dredged in corn meal, spices, soy milk and hot sauce, and then baked in the oven, the cauliflower is hot, carby and difficult to resist. Sometimes I plan to make three or four sandwiches but only wind up with two because of my sneaking cauliflower pieces between sandwich construction. My favorite part of the sandwich, my favorite song on the album.



"Last Night on Earth" is one of those songs about watching the world blow up around you. There is a sense of urgency to the track as it questions whether this is heaven or a curse. The only thing apparent is that "s***'s going crazy." Despite the possibility that this could be the last night on earth, the song's participants seem to remain pretty level headed. I mean just the fact that they can take a few moments to contemplate whether this really is the end and seem to be pretty clear about what they want to happen if this is their last night on earth speaks volumes about their "coolness." Had this Po' Boy had some cucumbers in it, I totally would've paired that up with "Last Night on Earth." But because it doesn't, I went with the bacon portion of the sandwich. Why you ask? I feel like the bacon embraces its own flavor. S**t's going all crazy around it with cajun slaw, spicy cauliflower and sour pickles and the bacon does the whole remain calm and bacon on thing. For this Po' Boy, I used the Bacun recipe found here.



Without sounding too much like a television show, I previously featured Sweet Disaster in this post. In the post I said "tonight, you're on top of the world, the king (or queen) of some late night, neon loaded, kingdom of debauchery. Across from you is the person of your moment, the one who puts nothing but bad things into your mind when they are around. Each new destination, on this fine evening, means a different jukebox to control. You've spent time with the Ramones, the Rolling Stones and a sea of others whom you can no longer recollect. As the two of you step outside and watch the final bar close its door and shut off the lights, you lean in for your goodbyes. Despite the fact that you are both swimming "in a river of champagne," a quick glance shows that you are both on the same page when it comes to this night. While "some nights feel like every night, this one feels brand new." And that's me quoting me. "Sweet Disaster" translates nicely to the cajun slaw component of the Po' Boy. The slaw could've easily felt like every other slaw, but it's combination of vegan mayo, cabbage and cajun seasonings comes across as something brand new. Of note, after numerous failed attempts at homemade aquafaba mayo, I bit the bullet and used Hampton Creek's Just Mayo for my vegan mayo. It was my first time using the product and I loved its balance of acidic richness and smooth, almost sauce like texture.



Which brings us to the bread. The bread needs to be a good one as it is what pulls everything together in the sandwich. It is both the first and last thing that you taste. I can't help but think that all the other ingredients probably wish they could play the same essential role that the bread does in the Po' Boy. I've tried to massage all their egos and tell them how important they all are but there is definitely some jealousy that lingers between pickles, cauliflower, slaw and bread. While "Lucky Dog" isn't the first song or the last one and it doesn't come across as the most memorable (despite its kickass handclaps and driving sing-along chorus), it does deal with a similar issue. "Lucky Dog" is a song about having the hottest girl in the crew and trying to stay grounded. It isn't easy to garner all that attention and keep your head about you. The line "All my friends ingredients, wish they were me instead" seems to sum up both album and recipe.



Most of the other songs didn't really do much for me. "Wolves (You Got Me)" and "To the Fire" both got better with age and perhaps, in a month or two, they could play some role in defining the Cauliflower Po' Boy. But in the here and now, they just fall a bit short of the tracks I highlighted.

Overall, I had a blast this summer eating Po' Boys and listening to This Record Doesn't Exist by DREAMERS. Neither album nor recipe is life defining. They won't wind up on any all time lists. But both are joined together when it comes to crafting a definition for the summer of 2016.

Food Flavored Album Review: Higher Power by The Dirty Nil

In a post-apocalyptic world of rage and destruction and zombie eyes, I want to batten down the hatches surrounded by two things: Higher Power, the Dirty Nil's debut full length, and a Vegan Brussels Sprout Kimchi Burger with Bulgogi Sauce and Nacho "Cheese". Here's how it all would go down:

Let's start at the foundation of this recipe, the vegan burger. There is a reason why people love those f***ing frozen patties full of hexane that come from their grocer's freezer. You can smash 'em, dash 'em, bite 'em and step on 'em and you still will have a finely shaped burger that won't leave some dirty mashed potato looking mess on your clothes. In other words, frozen burgers are invincible. So in order for a homemade version to stand up to their frozen counterparts, they also need an air of invincibility. These burgers are no different. They must be formed, then skillet fried and bulgogi doused before coming into contact with my teeth. Thankfully, they stood up to all the rigorous testing I put them through. Higher Power's version of invincibility comes from the album's opener, "No Weakness." When I originally heard the song I suggested that it is "vintage the Dirty Nil, with roaring guitars, screeching feedback and screaming vocals" and that it "definitely ranks in the top five percent of all-time Christmas Amish crouton breakfasts" (you had to be there). After spending a bit more time with "No Weaknesses," I would add that the guitars, feedback and screaming sort of meld together into this wall of absolutely brilliant thrash. This thrash feels, during the verses and the long instrumental especially, that it is perilously close to running amok. But just as things appear to be too far gone the Dirty Nil reigns it all in and embraces a slightly more melodic and harmonious shout of "No Weaknesses." Brute force patty meet brute force song:



This invincible vegan burger is created by combining a unique blend of legumes (chickpeas), grains (barley), fungus, veggies and nuts (cashews). Each of these ingredients serves their own unique purpose. For the chickpeas and barley, that purpose is providing texture while also creating a sort of starchy binding to help hold the burger together. The cashews incorporate a certain amount of nuttiness to the burger. The veggies and fungus add the glutamate-rich flavoring that takes this burger farther away from other veggie versions and closer to their meat counterparts. Higher Power features the same components present on it. For instance, "Lowlives" brings an almost hardcore styled punk sound to the album. It doesn't get much starchier than that. The next track, "Friends In The Sky,"is an on again off again raucous punked out country number. It provides texture for the album, showing that there is more to the Dirty Nil than just screaming, feedbacking, and rock and roll. The triumvirate of "Know Your Rodent," "Bluto Bloody Bluto," and "Violent Hands" work at such a pace that your body is bound to be shooting out excitatory signals so rapidly that one can't help but wonder if things aren't about to turn toxic. I know glutamate fits in there somewhere but my science is super limited. I went to a school where they taught creationism and shit.



The album's second track, "Zombie Eyed," (here) has quickly become one of my favorites (and my toddler's too). It fills the negative space that is left behind by "No Weaknesses." The insane and out of control verses have been replaced by a calmer, slightly cleaner band. But like a hockey player who will forever grow back his beard once the playoffs begin, I know this clean feel is fleeting. By the time the band reaches the chorus the pent up pressure of remaining even keel comes to a head. We quickly fall back onto our out of control, feedback driven, rollercoaster. It is at this point in the song, right around the first chorus, where I find myself thinking about Rivers Cuomo. What if he had moved to Ontario, Canada instead of LA when he turned 19? What if his mode of transportation was a dirt bike instead of a surfboard? Could Pinkerton have taken on an even rawer, colder feel? Could Rivers have felt the need to crank the vocal feedback dial well past warm and into hot territory to keep him from freezing in the Canadian cold? I wrestle myself back to the present when the line "If I'm a dog, you're a swine" plays through my speaker. I don't come up for air again until the last of the "I guess I'm just zombie eyed's" are uttered to close out the track. "Zombie Eyed" is to the album as the bulgogi sauce is to my burger. Adding the bulgogi serves two purposes. First it provides the swine, it gives the burger additional flavor that makes something like adding bacon unnecessary. Second, the sugar in the bulgogi caramelizes when it is heated and gives the burger a nice charred look to it. I placed it on my plate and immediately starting giving it zombie eyes. I wasn't the only one, Z-Bot did as well.



When "Wrestle Yu to Husker Du" (it appears the umlauts are gone on Higher Power), kicks into gear I find myself again thinking of Rivers Cuomo. This time around I see the Weezer leader drunk on cheap gin while lamenting previous love losses. While this is going on, his current girl snuggles up next to someone else. Next thing I know it is all romps in the hay and playing doctor in the reeds. But, as the Dirty Nil points out, there is no moral conflict taking place while stealing another man's girl because "I don't care about your man, oh ya, f*** him, he left you in a glass of cheap warm gin." This track is reminiscent of the sweet potato based "nacho" cheese that is slathered overtop of the burger. Think about it. You've got a party going on. In the corner, milk, rennet and the cultures are all smoking weed and getting drunk. While they aren't paying attention along comes sweet potato, nutritional yeast and coconut milk. They don't give a f*** about what those other three are doing, tradition or unspoken rules. All they know is that there is one hot, bulgogi covered burger needing some cheese on top. They work their magic and the rest is history.




 "Helium Dreamer" wasn't a song I liked the first two or three times I listened to Higher Power. It felt too much like a one trick pony compared to most of the rest of the album. Scream a single key verse, yell something during the chorus, repeat and do again. But at some point I stopped looking at it as just a straightforward hardcore track and I realized that sprinkled around those screams, which were actually quite catchy screams mind you, were some pieces of rock and roll musicianship. I came to appreciate the song, much in the way I have come around to both brussels sprouts and kimchi. My first few experiences with both of these were pretty unremarkable. Now, I'm a big fan of both. I decided for this burger, I wanted to pair these two vegetable based dishes together to create a sort of brussels sprout kimchi relish. The topping is fabulous enough to eat on its own but works even better when part of something larger (just like "Helium Dreamer").



Higher Power wraps up with the Dirty Nil's version of a power ballad called "Bury Me at the Rodeo." The song features scaled back (or at least as scaled back as the Dirty Nil seems to go) vocals with only momentary traipses into the red. The music is still bursting with feedback but this version is created by strumming once or twice and then moving the instrument closer to the amp. "Bury Me at the Rodeo" is less of a sprint and more of a slow jog through the park. The chorus sees the band at their most melodic, making it totally appropriate for a rock and roll funeral. I'd compare this track to the burger's bun which also signifies the end. It is both the first and last thing that you will come into contact with while eating this sandwich. A good bun can take this burger from great to out of this world. A bad one can drop the entire sandwich down a rung or two.



Overall, I absolutely love the Dirty Nil's Higher Power. Track after track of rock and roll that is meant to be played loud. I haven't felt this way about an entire rock album since the Menzingers' last album came out two years ago. Higher Power is probably the most complete punk debut (I know the band doesn't want to be called punk but I can't help it, that is the vibe I get here) since Dillinger Four's Midwestern Songs of the America's came out in 1998. Yes, my friends, I've been waiting 18 years for an album like Higher Power to come back around. While there were definitely some lean years in there, the Dirty Nil makes the wait so worth it.

Food Flavored Album Review: Apocalypse Meow by Secret Club

I'm not sure there is any food that likes to party as much as beans. From the bean dips of Cinco De Mayo to the baked beans at your Fourth of July picnic to the green bean casserole at Thanksgiving, if there is a celebration to be had, you can bet your ass that beans will be somewhere in the vicinity. By that same note, if I'm using their new album Apocalypse Meow as my sole indicator, which I am, I'm not sure there is any band that likes to make party music as much as Secret Club. The band shares stories of drinking, strip clubs, rendezvous at the Circle K, smoking, drug use, DEA cocaine raids, neck tattoos, disco visits, falling asleep on the bathroom floor and making out with friends. For some bands that kind of action would take a whole album or, worst case scenario, an entire discography to deliver. For Secret Club, it only takes the first couple of tracks. If I were to detail all the trouble (read: fun) that they get into on Apocalypse Meow, this post would never make it passed my editor's short attention span. A total party food and a total party album? Sounds like a speed dating meetup made in heaven. That's why Apocalypse Meow and the Mango BBQ Beans found in Isa Chandra Moskowitz's Appetite for Reduction are about to get the ol' food flavored album review treatment. Let's get it!

My introduction to Apocalypse Meow came in the form of "I Do What I Want." This is the album's quintessential party track. It's also Secret Club's fu** you I won't do what you tell me rally cry for independence. The track is delivered with a perfect blend of angst and urgency, paying homage to 90's garage like the Hives (or is it the Vines?). Within the song you can see a war taking place. The band is battling the idea that growing up is the way to go but realizes they can't fight biology. The compromise is to not compromise. Secret Club says that if you (or they) want to pass out with 40's in their hands, then that's exactly what they plan on doing and nothing anyone can say will change that.  The same kind of rebellious attitude exists in Isa's beans. Don't buy it, look no further than the mango. Who the hell thinks it is a good idea to boil out mango in a pot of BBQ beans? I sure didn't. I only made the recipe because I happened to have a big bag of frozen mango and a giant pile of beans. Don't tell Isa but I even got a bit rebellious with this recipe by my own right. Kidney beans? Nuh uh. My refrigerator was overflowing with their blackened brothers. So instead of making another pressure cooked pot of kidney beans and overloading my cold case even more, I changed them out for black beans (this sentence needs to be read with "I Do What I Want" playing loudly in the background).



Speaking of black beans, they bring a bit of baggage to this dish. Black beans have a slightly sweet and meaty texture to them. They also have a rich black color. This is courtesy of three anthocyanin flavonoids (delphinidin, petunidin and malvidin) that are present in the "skin." Adding them to Isa's recipe means that the final dish will be slightly darker and sweeter than if the bolder, earthier kidney beans had been used. Like black beans, Apocalypse Meow has a dark side. It's called black humor. No track demonstrate this more than "Circle K." The song starts as a simple gas station love song a la "Quick Check Girl" by the Bouncing Souls. But things change drastically at the ten second mark. There is a Ramones like twist and all of a sudden this Circle K girl goes from a hot, upstanding member of society, who happens to works at a gas station to a member of the KKK. Worse yet, her father won't let her be broken up with without some serious retribution. Can it get any blacker than dating a KKK member who you are unable to break up with because her daddy will kill you? I'm not sure it can. By the way if there are any television execs reading this, I would totally watch that television show. Make it happen.



As for the bean's sweetness, Apocalypse Meow does have a minor dose of that in "My Friend Angie." This track slows down immensely, we're talking lullaby pace here. To take "My Friend Angie" to a place where only certain foods tread, my original thought was that the song makes me feel like I'm sitting around a fire singing with friends. The rest of the album? That's the fire itself. Despite the sweet sounding music, "My Friend Angie" still delivers the tongue-in-cheek style lyrics which show up throughout the album. Angie is a badass. She wears black, holds her curtains with a tack, likes to stay up late and has a lip tat. She also has nothing wrong with her, as far as she can tell. She seems to respond well when interviewed at sexy growl level. I say this because of how AJ Babcock delivers the lyrics. Watch out ladies!



While Apocalypse Meow has a lot of good to great tracks, my favorite one would have to be "Toledo." In this track, getting stoned in Ohio is all the rage. So is not waiting around for others to make decisions. You can't force people to do something, you can only tell them how it is and then move on with your stuff. In Isa's description of the beans she let's you know up front, this dish requires a fair amount of time to let the flavors of the mango and tomato sauce meld and to allow the beans to soak up that amazing taste combo. While you might not want to wait around any longer, to really take this dish places you sort of have to.



One of the lasting memories I have of Secret Club's Apocalypse Meow is how the album seems to gather little snippets of "taste" from corners of the music world. First and foremost, there's lots of garage rock (see "Sucker", "I Do What I Want" and "Secret Club"). I already mentioned that it reminds me a lot of the Vines, the Hives and even Ok Go. Bits of Ramones era punk can certainly be noticed on "Circle K." Secret Club also channels some of Local H's heavy, post grunge ("Leave a Mark"), Hum's alternative rock ("Lost") and the surf rock of off Weezer's Blue Album or Pixies Bossanova (the beginning of "Why Can't Friends Just Kiss on the Lips Sometimes?"). The same lasting memories exist with Isa's Mango BBQ Beans. These beans combine a lot of different tastes to make one awesome final product. There's the sweetness of the beans, mango and maple syrup (I used this instead of agave), the saltiness of the vegetable broth, tomato sauce and salt, the smokiness served up by the liquid smoke and the final kapow! of spiciness courtesy of the red pepper flakes.

To sum it up, my favorite chorus of the album: "Are you one of us? I'm none of us? Woah-oh-oh, I'm not your sucker." But really, I've found that I am totally a sucker for both Apocalypse Meow and Isa Chandra Moskowitz's BBQ Mango Beans. I find it easier to be a sucker for both at the same time.

Food Flavored Album Review: Beautiful Words EP by Oscar

Late last week I joined some red and purple potatoes, beets, kale and onion together in a large metal bowl. I threw in some olive oil, soy sauce and a smattering of dried spices. I wasn't expecting much from the dish. But with each bite my expectations slowly shifted. This stuff was good. By the end of the meal I was perusing the pantry to figure out what ingredients I needed to purchase at the store so I could make the dish again. Sooner, rather than later.

I realized this dish, which I called Red and Purple Hash, was the food equivalent of Beautiful Words, the new EP from 23-year-old Londoner Oscar Scheller. Oscar is a bit of a melody savant. He crafts Brit-Pop numbers that combine sampled breakbeats from 90's East Coast rap with beautiful lyrics, notes and chords. Oscar has been going at it, this music thing, for pretty much his entire life. His father was a new waver who morphed into an acid house producer. Perhaps this is why Oscar picked up the piano as a baby, learning Erik Satie numbers.

My introduction to Beautiful Words (well, the North American version of the EP) came in the form of "Daffodil Days", the fourth track on the album. I'm not sure when I heard it the first time (a trip back through Hypem didn't clear this up). What I do know is that I was intrigued by the song right away. I blame this completely on Oscar's rich baritone voice. I just couldn't turn away from it. Even so, I didn't necessarily like the song. I listened to it more in the way that a rubbernecker gazes at a deadly accident. But with each listen my feelings slowly shifted. Now I have it on a list of my favorite tracks of the year. I liken "Daffodil Days" to the potatoes in this recipe. Potatoes have been a staple in my diet for years. They are what initially intrigued me about the recipe. While I enjoy potatoes immensely now, there was a time when I would actually remove them from recipes because I couldn't stand their taste. One french fry, baked potato, tater tot or home fry at a time, I fell in love.

Beets are a pretty new thing to me. I hated the smell they produced when they were cooking and for years would not even give them a try. Then a friend of mine wrapped them in puff pastry, added in some orange juice and cheese, and forced me to taste one. I loved that earthy citrus taste. I loved it so much that I ate puff pastry square after puff pastry square. I ate so much that it scared the piss out of me the next day when I peed red. I had to google to make sure my body wasn't falling apart. The album opener (and title track) "Beautiful Words" works in the same way the beets do. It's the newcomer, the one I resisted. Despite my enjoyment of "Daffodil Days" I didn't immediately jump on the "Beautiful Words" express. Listening to it now, I have no idea what I was thinking. This song seems to be exactly like what I enjoy. It's catchy and upbeat, has an uplifting feel to it and, again, displays that baritone front and center. But now that I'm on board, I listen to this thing religiously. It has yet to change the color of my piss but there is no doubt in my mind that that's coming soon.

Oscar's lyrics tend to deal with family things, loss, pain or girls. Sometimes they do two or three of these at once. The topics, sampled breakbeats and baritone lyrics all work to give Beautiful Words a melancholic feel. The biggest buzz kill is the closer "Stay." It addresses the loss that a person feels when someone walks out on them. When he sings repeatedly "Don't go, everything is fine when you're around" he captures what most of us think in those moments right before or right after a relationship dies. You can't see yourself ever again being able to walk out in public and face the world. No one will be smiling out there, life will just be somber from here on out. We tell ourselves, everything will be better if that person just sticks around. Holding on to something that is already gone is just about the saddest thing a person can do. This recipe captures loss by incorporating the worlds saddest vegetable, the onion. You can peel back those layers, really get to know what's on the inside and make a connection, but the more visceral you get with that onion, the more it reduces you to tears. Stay surface level and the pain won't come but neither will the vegetable buy in. You'll taste the difference if you push through the feelings
.

In "Grow Up" Oscar talks about his desire to be young forever. It may be impossible to stop aging but science suggests you can certainly slow it by taking in some antioxidants (which counteract oxidative damage, a driver of the aging process). Guess what is full of antioxidants? You got it, that leafy green, nutrient dense, kale. 

Red and Purple Hash and Beautiful Words by Oscar. A food pairing made in a painfully melancholic acid house if ever there was one. That is to say, a perfect type of pairing.

Check out the new video for "Beautiful Words" which was inspired by American visual artist James Turrell:

"Daffodil Days" in video form:



"Stay":

Food Flavored Album Review: The Scene Between by The Go! Team

For three albums The Go! Team has made a name for itself by crossbreeding tricked out noise rock melodies, old school hip-hop, schizzed up blaxploitation and Bollywood soundtrack collages and dance music that feels like it came straight out of a blast furnace. Overtop, they’ve pumped in jump rope chant choruses and verses delivered with choo choo train like elocution by rapper Ninja (or Kaori Tsuchida or Chi Fukami Taylor or any number of special guests including Chuck D. and Solex). But things began to feel a bit too traditional for bandleader Ian Parton. So he decided that for the band’s fourth album, The Scene Between, things would be different. Gone would be the voices of Ninja, Kaori and Chi. In their place? Vocals provided by singers Ian had never heard of before. The songs themselves would be guided by melody. Samples would not provide the backbone, instead they would be treated as any other instrument. The resulting album feels like a rebellion against the past. A warm, bright, cheery rebellion. It reeks of someone itching for a new adventure.

In a lot of ways, The Scene Between is the musical equivalent to Divas Can Cook’s Vegan Southern-Style Collard Greens. Both The Scene Between and the collard greens are built from a bubbling hot beginning. While The Scene Between is almost completely different from its predecessors, it does have one significant thing in common with them. It is still frenetic and feverish. No track symbolizes this as much as opener “What D’You Say?” The track begins refreshingly. A can of soda is opened and the fizz that accompanies a bad pour can be heard. Next, a springtime horn blows. It's not smooth and exotic like a snake charmer, more like Dwight Schrute on a recorder, but it succeeds in lulling the listener into a momentary daydream. That daydream is shattered as soon as the clicking drum sticks kick in. What follows is four plus minutes of turbulent, unadulterated, pulsing, fun. It's a brand of fun that grows from the up and down lyrical delivery of Brazilian (currently living in LA) singer songwriter Samira Winter and the distortion gripped guitars in the background. The collard greens bubbling hot beginning occurs courtesy of the oil being heated in the saute pan.

First to enter that oil? Onions and garlic. These strong, yet pliable little pieces of white matter are quickly reduced to tender blithering babies by the oil’s searing heat. Their only sense of empowerment and brass is the aromatic smell leaving their pores and the sounds of sizzle that scream out from their flesh. While the title track of The Scene Between doesn’t blither like a baby, it does capture the same empowerment and brass. It's brought by the intensely gained lyrics performed by the London Africa Gospel Choir. Amazing how some twists of a knob can take the beauty of a gospel choir and give it a more honest and raw but still completely otherworldly feel. For a few short bursts, “The Scene Between” sizzles with some of the clearest sounds on the album. In between, it mirrors a tribal scene from deep in the jungle.

Because collard greens quickly soak up whatever they are slow simmered in, they can be won or lost based on their broth. A rich, flavorful broth creates greens that exude power while simultaneously forging a connection between your palette and mind. A weak broth and your greens get their asses kicked daily on the playground. The Scene Between also toes the broth line by offering some slow simmered tracks of its own. A weak output from the brothy “Waking the Jetstream” and the album loses its quick start. Thankfully the track falls into the rich and flavorful category. Like “The Scene
Between,” “Waking the Jetstream” has vocals that have been gained to feel larger than life. The difference is that Casey Sowa (of Strange Relations) remains firmly grounded with her terrestrial, singer-songwriterish delivery. This feels appropriate considering that the synths, loops and acoustic instruments in the track are arranged around a slightly slower base of music. Strip away all the production and “Waking the Jetstream” fits nicely on CMT (during the overnight shift) but loses its robustness. It's all those production elements that make this track what it is: an excellent indie rock song.

But, I’m a traditionalist, man. What about the bacon taste? I need to have that smoky, bacon flavor when I eat my collards. I hear ya. You can’t completely buck tradition or your new creation will no longer resemble what you started with. In Diva’s Greens, the bacon taste is achieved by using smoked salt. It's expensive as hell…but totally worth it. “The Art Of Getting By (Song for Heaven’s Gate)” is the bacon flavor of The Scene Between. It is the track that most closely links what Ian Parton and crew are trying to accomplish with what they have done previously. Musically, the song is driven by heavily emphasizing percussion and horns. It is the same two instruments which are at the heart of the band’s most famous track (at least if you are an American football fan) “The Power is On.” The similarities between what’s been and what is stop there as “The Art of Getting By (Song for Heaven’s Gate)” is much slower and more controlled than “The Power is On”. For the second time on The Scene Between, the vocals are provided by the London Africa Gospel Choir. Just like they did with “The Scene Between,” the choir elevates the song into a realm that is much more spiritual than
typical indie rock tracks. It's the perfect delivery considering that the song was inspired by the mass suicide of the Heaven’s Gate religious cult.

I don’t care if your collard greens have meat or not, no bundle of greens is complete without a generous helping of hot sauce. It makes the greens flare, it makes them pop. “Blowtorch” is The Scene Between’s hot sauce. Its surfy, but not in a simplistic Weezer sort of way. The surf/noise rock combo creates a depth that a lot of strict surf rock never reaches. This depth is the flare. It is the pop.

While The Go! Team’s The Scene Between is a fun album, it isn’t without its faults. Each time I listen
to it, I start off enjoying everything the early tracks have to offer. After the instrumental awesomeness of “Gaffa Tape Bikini” I lose separation between the tracks. With the exception of “The Art of Getting By (Song for Heaven’s Gate)” the tracks seem to run together. While flavors meshing together is a good thing in the world of collard greens, it isn’t ideal for albums. Still, with over half the tracks being at the good to exceptional level, you won’t see me begging for the old tried and true anytime soon.

"What D'You Say":



"The Scene Between":



"Waking the Jetstream":

Food Flavored Album Review: Hello Memory by Little Daylight

When I sit back and listen to Little Daylight’s debut full length, Hello Memory (Capitol Records), I immediately start craving a Kung Pao Tofu Slider. This is not your Uncle Larry’s slapped together peanut butter and jelly on stale white bread horror show of a sandwich. The Kung Pao Tofu is the type of sandwich that makes your taste buds dance and twirl and cry out for more, long after last call. Its treatment of all things sensitive to flavor is very similar to the effects that Little Daylight’s Hello Memory bestows on your auditory system. That’s why the two, album and slider, are perfect for each other.

A good Kung Pao Tofu sandwich is built from the inside out. It starts with thinly sliced, extra firm tofu which, despite its title of extra firm, actually has quite a bit of give to it. Put it on a rocking chair, vigorously shake and see how much it dances. Hello Memory is also built from the inside out and can bring a generally firm substance to move unnaturally (I’m talking about myself). This is most apparent on the second track, the wildly popular “Overdose”. To quote myself, when “Overdose” first hit this blog early last year I said: “Stylistically speaking “Overdose” has many things in common with the band’s remixes. The pulsating beats remain. So does the bounce your head rhythm (call it Tribal Flair), the catchy breakdowns and pop affinity. What is not to love? First original song. First “Overdose” that is actually enjoyable. That calls for a celebration.” I stand behind that original assessment although what I didn’t realize at the time is the opportunity for widespread appeal that Little Daylight had just released on the world. It took a bit of time but “Overdose” is finally on the verge of (or already has?) blown up. The band played it live on the Late Show with Seth Meyers and Alt-Nation has started featuring it heavily in its rotation (from June 12-June 18 it was the number five most played song). If they had any sense, mainstream pop and rock stations would be following right behind.

A memorable kung pao tofu sandwich is topped with a slaw of julienned zucchini and carrot to provide a bit of texture disparity. The tofu’s soft interior is the polar opposite of the julienned vegetables crunch . Similarly, Little Daylight’s “Siren Call”, another single released a while back, plays moody counterpart to “Overdose’s” upbeat antics. It is synth driven, with siren like wails over a lush backdrop. Catchy and melodic, just not as sing-alongy as “Overdose”. More appropriate for a back alley movie scene than a dance party.

To pull off the taste coup that this sandwich does, properly seasoned tofu is essential. First it must rest in a bath of soy sauce, sugar, sesame oil and corn starch for about an hour. Then it needs to be
baked slowly so that each side of the tofu becomes caramelized. This step is best signified by Hello
Memory’s “Love Stories”. This is the track where Little Daylight leaves the dance floor, steps out into the back alley and heads for the bedroom. It is a restrained and reflective attempt at balladry. The
power in “Love Stories” is that Little Daylight shows that they are versatile enough to leave behind the layered backdrops of “Overdose” and “Siren Call” and deal in infinite space.

The zucchini and carrots are mixed with a whisked blend of soy sauce, peanut butter, vegan mayo, sugar, rice vinegar, garlic, sesame oil, peanuts, black pepper and cayenne. This is where the palette really begins to experience things. The saltiness of the soy sauce and peanuts, the sweetness of the sugar, the sourness of the mayo and vinegar, the pungency of the garlic and the spiciness of the cayenne can all be detected after each bite. This dressing really brings the whole slider together, while simultaneously keeping the tastes apart. Little Daylight’s latest single, “Mona Lisa”, packs the same type of varied punch. The track sounds like it came straight from the 80’s because of the synth arrangement. The synths are then paired with a stellar baseline to create the perfect pedestal to place Nikki Taylor’s vocals on. She pretty much shirks the pedestal during the verses but the music keeps building and winding her tighter and when that chorus finally hits she takes her place on said pedestal. “Mona Lisa” is fun, its catchy and it is probably destined for Alt-Nation appeal when the symptoms of “Overdose” wear off.

Even though a sandwich/slider is built from the inside out, that doesn’t mean the bun doesn’t have some sort of bearing. Placing a slider on a lackluster bun is like baking a tasty cake and covering it with dirt icing. Fear not my friends because Hello Memory flings no dirt. “My Life”, the opener, is probably my favorite of the tracks I had not previously heard. It has a funky little dance rhythm to it created by electronic swizzles. Someone has their finger on the button and they know what they are doing. Add in some messages of empowerment and the freedom to do what you want and you’ve got a song that is hard not to like. While the closer “Never Go Back” doesn’t come anywhere near its predecessors, it is still a nice parting shot. It tells everyone that the band has been there, done that, and they won’t be going back. Tough call for a band that has put out such a wonderful album. Still, this unwillingness to go back, has me excited to see where Little Daylight heads next.

Hello Memory’s tracks that have been released as singles:

Food Flavored Album Review: Modus Operandi by Mary Kelly

Modus Operandi by Mary Kelly is the musical equivalent of stir-fried udon noodles. But it is definitely not your normal stir-fry noodle. It is one that has a unique twist. Sort of like putting udon noodles on a sandwich or pairing them with Indian curry for a bit of Asian fusion. For my Modus Operandi experience, I chose the latter.

Mary Kelly has dubbed their style of music “grunge-core trash.” It resides in a bowl that is a long way from the electro-pop, indie jazz and alternative hip-hop that normally litter the pages of this blog. The backbone for the band’s sound is the grungy machine gun like guitars that start and stop in rapid succession. Like the varied peppers in a curried stir-fry, you never quite know what will come next. Are they mild and sweet hiding beneath an angry camouflaged skin? Or are they the brutal
burning ones that make you regret your decisions both on admittance and while exiting?

Following closely behind the guitars is Mary Kelly’s rhythm section. While the bass is certainly there, check out the beginning of “I’m Not a Buddhist (I’m Just Weak)” if you don’t believe me, the main player in the rhythm section is the drums. These guys range from slower down tempo movements to mile a minute bursts of blunt force trauma. I liken them to a good curry powder roux. It is the kind of thing that you don’t realize is there until it simultaneously hits your taste buds like a charging rhino and thickens that shit to a creamy sauce.

As a debut full length Modus Operandi offers quite a few unlikely gems. The starting point (or udon
noodles if you will) is the third track “Mushroom Soup”. From the first chord Simon Gibbins belts out lyrical screams at an alarming pace. These are offset by some samples of what sounds like astronauts corresponding over an intercom. Things slow down for a few seconds about two and a half
minutes in, just long enough for Simon to tell you about 600 horses he knows. After building up to an appropriate crescendo, he takes you out the way you came in, full speed ahead.

The next song worthy of a mention is the album’s first single “I’m Not a Buddhist (I’m Just Weak).” This track has everything I mentioned earlier: scathing guitars, pounding drums, breakneck speed, snarling lyrics and…a harmonica. Wait, what? You heard me right, a darling little harmonica solo magically transitions the guitar solo back into the catchy chorus. Imagine if Bob Dylan was abducted, sent to the nether regions of Canada and forced to perform with I Hate Sally. That is the only thing I can think of that is even remotely close to what takes place in this track. As far as the curry goes, “I’m Not a Buddhist (I’m Just Weak)” is like your pan-fried seitan cutlets, all meaty and fake and ready to be seared to hell by your pan. Unless, of course, you perform the ol’ switcheroo and use tempeh instead (like I did). In that case, it becomes less glutenous and more nutty.

Speaking of nutty, if the radio ever decided that it wanted to hold a contest to see how fast it could
piss off your Aunt Ethel, there is no doubt in my mind that they would choose “Penny Dreadful” first. This song has just enough pop and catch to it, that I could see it fitting nicely between Nickelback and Creed. Oh, Aunt Ethel likes country? No matter, throw it between Luke Bryan and Tim McGraw. “Penny Dreadful” can build a home anywhere. It is straight ahead, don’t stop until we reach the end, power grunge. Well, except for that one spot near the end where the band samples some sort of weird ghost like creature. Or is that just the sound broccoli makes when it is cut from the stalk?

Lastly important (and of lasting importance) is “Stained Glass Weirdo.” This is where the drums and lyrics really play lead fiddle. The song is about a bad relationship that constantly brings you pain on the same day every year. You’d be hard pressed to find any lyrics that resonate as much as these on the album. “Stained Glass Weirdo” nicely packages the contents of Modus Operandi together. It is sort of like the shoyu, ginger and vegetable broth of the album.

Mary Kelly’s debut full length, Modus Operandi, is certainly not for the faint of heart. It is hot, abusive and downright painful on your sensitive eardrums. But like anyone who chows down on a good curry knows, to experience pleasure, one must first navigate through the perils of pain. There is certainly pleasure to be had. Just take a moment to wipe those indie rock smirks from your blog's face and you’ll quickly see what the world of “grunge core trash” has to offer.

“I’m Not A Buddhist (I’m Just Weak)”:


 “Stained Glass Weirdo”: