Panic At The Disco

For this addition to Why Haven’t You Heard? I’m going to switch things around and tell you exactly why you haven’t heard Panic At The Disco (without the exclamatory gimmick)’s second, well-anticipated album Pretty. Odd. Their opener for the album, “We’re So Starving”, promises “we’re still the same band,” and sorely disappoints, if not outright lies. Three core elements of Panic’s original sound were abstract lyrics, intense techno, and balance; the first album featured two word-less techno jams to flavor the album. Needless to say there’s nothing wrong with adding more guitar rifts and solos to a band’s sound, but completely replacing techno with old-rock guitar makes for a shell-shocking difference.

The repetition in this album is overbearing to say the least - the chorus to “I Have Friends in Holy Spaces” has every line ending with ‘friends’. And yes, the worst has happened; in “She’s and Handsome Woman”, Panic depends on a hook to carry the song through, as though it were a life raft to keep them from drowning under an atrocious opening song and that headache “Nine In the Afternoon” all of us have the misfortune of knowing thanks to radio play. As sad as it may be, “Nine In the Afternoon” is the only song on the album that even attempt to resemble their original sound; indeed in “Folkin’ Around”, which is straight from a hoedown with banjo and violin, the only recognizable aspect of the old Panic is Brendan Urie’s voice.

Granted there are some interesting stories on the album that are merely poorly delivered, such as “She Had The World” and “Behind The Sea”, but a band cannot hope to carry the weight of fifteen tracks on the shoulders of two decent concepts. If one wished to transfer from country to some vague form of indie, Pretty. Odd. would be a perfect match for them. For previous Panic! fans who want to give the album a try the best way to approach it is as though Panic! At The Disco and Panic At The Disco are two entirely different bands. It may be beneficial to look into whether Pretty. Odd. is Panic’s withdrawal from some club drug that influenced their first album and switching over to opium. It also may be safe to say that their sparkle left the band when they ditched the exclamation point. To hear for yourself, check out www.myspace.com/panicatthedisco. Proceed with caution.

Lenka

There are several reasons why most people have apparently not heard Lenka’s new self-titled debut album. Part of it may be because the general public can’t seem to multitask and therefore are stuck on Colbie Caillet and Sara Bareillis – not to say the three young artists have similar sounds so much as they have that similar, pop-y feeling. There’s always the chance that Regina Spektor and Feist fans feel like Lenka’s attempting to intrude upon their well-earned territory. Maybe it’s that Lenka’s voice closely resembles that of Greta Salpeter from The Hush Sound, who many fans say the band could have done without. Quite possibly it’s all the pessimistic ‘glass-half-empty’ negativity under all the light, flowery piano. For me, a self-proclaimed lyrical connoisseur, it’s the LiveJournal confessions that turn me off the most.

Lenka Kripac, born in 1978, can more or less be considered a ripened adult. I’m not trying to insinuate, by any means, that 30 is an old age; certainly by looking at Lenka you’d never think she was a day older than 20. However, Lenka doesn’t make it subtle how reluctant she is to show this fact about herself. For one example, there’s “We Will Not Grow Up”. On her official website and MySpace she boasts in third person, “Others may struggle to get in touch with their inner child; Lenka never lost hers,” while posting pictures of herself autographic two young fans’ poster and captioning it, “3 little girls…” We can tell Lenka’s inner child is reluctant to grow out of the whining preteen stage in most of her songs, such as ‘Trouble Is A Friend’ where she preaches, “Trouble will find you no matter where you go, oh oh/ No matter if you're fast no matter if you're slow, oh oh.” We’d expect someone with 30 years of life experience to have something more profound to discuss, as opposed to, “… all I ever want to be is anything I'm not/ Gimme a break, a little escape/ I am so tired of being me,” (‘Anything I’m Not’), or at the very least not contradict themselves in the same song (“…I will always be, I will always be me, that I know/ But oh, even though I'm happy being me”).

‘The Show’, the only song from the album you may heard on the radio, is entirely the diary entry of an awakening Absurdist, but it’s pop, un-folk sound makes it a success. ‘Knock Knock’ is a touching love song, and a well-needed break from all the ‘life’s too hard’ lamenting on the CD masked by Lenka’s wispy voice and flimsy melodies. Overall, it’s a good use of onomatopoeia. ‘Like A Song’ does indeed use a hook but in a very T.a.T.u.-esque, haunting way that allows this song to stand out against the rest of the album. It’s up to the listener if it stands out in a good way or not; I suppose it depends on whether you consider, “Ahoooh/ Dum da di da/ Da da da dum,” a compelling set of lyrics. Maybe if you’re into werewolves? Or, if sheep are more your style, there’s always ‘Dangerous And Sweet’: “I’m sorry I hurt you/ I know that like me you can be oversensitive/ Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba…” Love her or hate her, whatever your reason, check it at: www.myspace.com/lenkamusic

The New Pornographers

You may have heard of “The Electric Version” by The New Pornographers off of the incredibly popular game, Rock Band, but if truth be told too many people have waited too long to be introduced to this wonderful product of Vancouver. As stated on their official website, “The New Pornographers formed in 1997, almost immediately recorded the classic ‘Letter From An Occupant,’ and it was on.” These truly multi-talented Canadians have since produced three more full-length albums, “… and they continue to enjoy bigger (and taller and smarter) audiences.”

Multi-talented is truly an understatement; each member of The New Pornographers contributes several musical medias to the band’s sound. A. C. Newman is in charge of vocals, guitar, piano [specializing in Wurlitzer and Casio], mandolin, percussion, melodeon, and bass. John Collins rocks the glockenspiel, mandolin, guitar, baritone guitar, bass, keyboard, and tambourine. Blaine Thurier accompanies on Fender Rhodes piano and sampler, closely related to a synthesizer. Then there’s Danny Behjar for vocals and shakers, Kathryn Calder with vocals and piano, Kurt Dahl for drums and percussion, Neko Case with vocals, and Todd Fancey on guitar, banjo, and mandolin.

A.C. Newman is credited for culminating the band’s name, claiming he was inspired by The Pornographers, a Japanese film. As creepily convenient and ironic as can be, The New Pornographers embody a Jimmy Swaggart, a pioneer televangelist, quote from when he called rock and roll “the new pornography”. One of their crazy music videos is for “Myriad Harbour” and features everything from afros sprouting various personalities to hands together in prayer from beards in this visual psychedelic depiction of going nowhere in life.

The band's first three albums each ranked in the top 40 on The Village Voice's Pazz & Jop annual poll, and their first album Mass Romantic was ranked by Blender magazine in 2007 as the 24th best indie album of all time [never fear, Arcade Fire fans; Funerals was ranked sixth]. For a scrumptious sampling of The New Pornographer’s flowery folk-pop as well as some excellent group shots of the Vancouver gang being… well, as Canadian as photographically possible, check out: www.myspace.com/thenewpornographers