Good Luck- Into Lake Griffy

    Hey fellow members of the blogosphere. Today is my birthday, and I was strongly considering the laziness option and not writing a review, but persistence is the name of the game, so here’s some good ol’ indie rock to get you through the bleak winter months.

    Good Luck are an exuberant and gleeful indie three-piece, who excel in both witty optimistic lyricism and fancy guitar work. Think of them as Bloomington’s Algernon Cadwallader with a twangier, more competent singer. Bets are on Into Lake Griffy being this year’s Some King of Cadwallader, at least in terms of catchiness. Speaking of which:

Recipe for Good Luck vocals:

- 4 parts Built to Spill’s Doug Martsch circa There’s Nothing Wrong With Love

- 5 parts The Weakerthans’ John Samson

- 1 part high-register grit

[Shaken, not stirred , served in a paper cup]

    Lyrically, Good Luck make a list of their existential dilemmas and recite them with a wry smile. “How to Live Here” boasts the verse: “We all want to feel content/ but we need more than a place to shit and to lay a bed/If sometimes living doesn't terrify you, if love doesn't pulverize you, then where are you at? /Where's the power in that?/ Though it's been nothing but complicated /since the first time that two people dated /and your heart makes you deathly afraid /it's all you've got.” Their ability to take an apparently bleak scenario and turn it golden is their strength, and also makes Into Lake Griffy an ideal post-breakup record. “So we gathered up the broken stars, lit a spark, put them back up in the sky/If you can wish on their falling, imagine what you can do bringing them back to life.” Rad! Drums have the requisite busyness, but mixed low to make way for the melody.

    The sense of joy that pervades the whole record leans comparisons to Vampire Weekend, but avoids the over-clean, squeaky-sweet polish of their Mozart-esque debut. The ticklish speed might bring on some nostalgia for Tokyo Police Club’s first EP, but only in feel, not in content. There are bits of the new emo scene and pieces of the old lo-fi movement, but at the end of the day Good Luck don’t sound quite like anyone else, which is just the way it should be. Get on this record (preferably from NO Idea Records), you won’t regret it.


Into Lake Griffy

The Sea and Cake- Oui

      I recently took a friend of mine, Tony, who may know as the Motherfish Writer, to get a tattoo done. The shop was a nice enough place, but it happened to be located at the edge of one town which bordered several other towns, and without directions home, we manage to visit and then promptly leave four different towns in the matter of three wrong turns. The Sea and Cake’s Oui saunters through a similar predicament with style and grace, in the matter of measures slipping in and out of jazz, post-rock, prog, math-rock , all with a dreamy ambiance, and manages to find its way home without running out of gas. While the general vibe of the album doesn’t beg you to pay attention (it’s an ideal pre-sleep record), listen closely, and you shall be rewarded tenfold.

    The mostly instrumental Oui is, strictly speaking, one of the most peaceful records I own. Each instrument oozes high craft, and together they have been clinically proven to help listeners reach Super-Nirvana. Genre-blending and musicianship abound; it’s difficult to decide whether to file this next to their sister band Tortoise, Hatfield & the North, or Charlie Parker. Thankfully, Oui avoids the major pitfall of the genre- songs as long and dull as The Bible. By producing laid-back tracks within the range of the human attention span, Oui is both more digestible and more enjoyable. Even the longest song, “You Beautiful Bastard”, just misses the six minute mark, and not a beat of it is wasted idly ‘jamming’.

    While several of the tracks do contain vocals, The Sea and Cake mostly use this more as a form of instrumentation, letting lighter-than-air melodies mix with the jazz-inspired percussion and whirring synthesizer in the most economical way. This is a musician’s music. Expect none of the rawness or noise of your favorite punk band- this is the product of masterminds. Cutaway: Lex Luthor gleefully twiddles away at a MiniMoog. While this might not become your favorite record, its brilliance is beyond doubt, and despite calling Oui a great “pre-sleep” listen, I don’t consider that an insult. This record is a panacea to the busy mind, and instilling that sense of peace while retaining musical interest is a skill in its own right. Next time you’re feeling lazy on a weekend, spend the day in bed with The Sea and Cake, and hope your significant other understands.


Oui