Album Review: Friends ‘Manifest!’
This story has already been told once before. The comparisons are endless and repeatedly entertaining. Time and time again fans of the independent music scene have seen stories where the power of music brings people together. These musicians form bands and create inspiring music that makes listeners feel happy. These DIY musical bonds are driving creativity and innovation throughout independent music right now. These harmonies deflect the stale and promote fresh candy for our ears. While dozens of impromptu bonds are being fashioned through music on a weekly basis, I thought there was never a better time to promote these connections than with Brooklyn’s Friends debut release Manifest!.
In many ways Friends mirrors their New York neighbor Cults. Both groups were formed by fate with members in the right place at the right time. With Cults, Madeline Follin and Brian Oblivion met while studying film at New School and NYU. As their friendship grew they began playing music together and recorded a few tracks for fun. The blog world took note and Cults exploded. Songs, “Oh My God” and “Go Outside” were going viral and channels like Sirius XMU help to compliment the growing buzz. Cults had already established a footprint in many of our rotation even before their debut record hit the shelves. A certain level of comfort with Cults was already established with listeners once their album dropped in June of last year. Easy going, stripped down, feel good pop music prevailed and the buzz around Cults continued to grow. As songs like “Abducted” and “You Know What I Mean” were released as singles the crowds grew and the shows began to sell out. As I observe Cults following continue to grow, I can’t help to expect comparable results for Friends.
The origins of Friends began with lead singer Samantha Urbani channeling her inner creativity as she recorded a slew of songs on her computer. Struck by an intense case of stage fright, Urbani leaned heavily on close ones for inspiration to advance her project. In an interview with Stereogum, Urbani describes the twist of fate formation by saying,
“I went away to Berlin for the summer and kept recording there, always sending songs to Matt, and Nikki [Shapiro] too. When I got back in August, Lesley (who I’ve known since 2nd grade) and Oliver [Duncan] needed to crash at my apartment for a week to get away from a bedbug infestation at their place — thx for bringing us 2gthr, b-bugs — and one night I played them a few demos… We decided to jam on the songs just for fun… That first practice went so incredibly well, we knew we had something going on.”
Replace film school with bed bugs and we can observe similar avenues that have served as catalysts for inspiration. As I attempt to bring Cults and Friends stories together, I begin to reflect on their introductions to me. Like Cults, the buzz on Friends began well before their album was released. Songs, “Friend Crush”, “I’m His Girl”, and “Mind Control” all entered my playlist before the release of Manifest! was released earlier this month. A slew of great singles, a release date almost a year apart, and a subway stop away make these stories easy to pair. The final test for me was to see if I could peel back the singles and have Manifest! stick for me in the way that Cults self-titled accomplished. After a couple weeks in my rotation I can verify that the buzz surrounding Friends was meaningful and Manifest! is a collection of songs that can be labeled indie pop with the help of a satisfying 90s R&B influence.
The percussion on this album carries a world music sound that pairs perfectly with Urbani’s voice from track to track. The listener will have an easy time observing the persuasive percussion during track “Sorry”. While I did take Music Appreciation in college I will admit that I always struggled with the listening section. As I fight to identify the appropriate tools of percussion, I am engaged with the sound that those “tribal sticks” offer. During the middle of this track a resounding chorus of oohs and aahs offers a background vocal chant that makes me feel like I should be outside dancing. As bongos enter the picture and bring it all together.
The hand drums carry over to next track “Home”. A dense bass line sits atop of the vocal section of this track. Percussion and bass are without question the backbone of Manifest!. It is reminiscent of the band’s single “I’m His Girl”, where the tingling of a triangle introduces the nastiest bass line that I have heard this year. 90’s R&B-influenced beats backed lyrics about keeping your man. Although it is not on Manifest!, this observation came full circle when I heard their cover of Zhane’s “My Boo” that sits on the b-side of “I’m His Girl”. As this Brooklyn bunch pulls influences from those that have influenced me, I quickly realize that not only this record and band are for me as well. Track, “A Thing Like This” is the bread and butter of this initial release. This song is a collection of thoughts around a feeling that we all know too well. Pair the pipes with playful percussion and bass and the result is a track that embodies all the themes of this record.
I try to take this release along with Cults and place them in the broad picture. We live in an age where people make music in their bedrooms, put it on the internet, and then people like us talk about it. Bands now have the opportunity to make an expedited introduction to their fan base as they take time to complete their record. This option keeps people waiting and generates buzz, much like it has done with Friends. Spontaneous projects form every day and creativity takes over. Let’s just hope the next DIY buzz does not have to start with a fresh batch of New York City bed bugs. Pick up your copy of Manifest! from Fat Possum.
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Written by Brett McGrath
Album Review: Barna Howard LP
“Twenty-four years old and writes like he’s about two-hundred and twenty. I don’t know where he comes from, but I’ve got a good idea where he’s going. We went away believers, reminded how goddamned good it feels to be turned on by a real Creative Imagination.”
Kris Kristofferson
That quote was taken from the liner notes of John Prine’s 1971 self-titled, debut LP. Yet Kristofferson’s words prove equally applicable to the debut release from Portland, Oregon-based singer-songwriter Barna Howard. At just 27, his is a voice that offers insights into our selves and our interactions with others. Each phrase crafted and whittled until each breath proves meaningful and essential.
They say that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. If this is true, I want the eyes of Barna Howard. I hope, one day, to view the world with half the clarity that Howard writes his songs. He paints a series of vignettes, shedding light on those moments never cast as the subject of the camera’s eye. Too trivial for documentation, these are the snapshots that comprise life. A grandmother’s laugh. The knotty, grass and gravel covered knees of children playing in the yard.
The album opens with “Horizons Fade”, a reflective piece that finds Howard grappling with a fondness for his Missouri home and the satisfaction that comes with the knowledge that his decision to leave has helped to define him. Howard’s understanding of his roots appears to have crystallized since viewing them from afar. He’s content with his decision to depart, despite the genuine ache that comes with an absence of friends and family. These sentiments are echoed later in the release on “It Hurts to Know.”
On “Promise, I won’t Laugh and “I Don’t Fall Much Anymore” Howard crafts narratives of lost love with the same powerful remorse that gave life to Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks. Unlike those Dylan tunes, Howard’s are written with a greater distance between the present and the pain. He spoke of the effect that this space had on his ability to write lead single “Promise I Won’t Laugh” in his interview with Creative Loafing:
“…it’s kind of the song that I always wanted to write. Just to kind of bring across the point of celebrating it instead of being sad it happened. We were sad for a reason, and that reason was because that thing that was there wasn’t there anymore, and when it was there it was great. And just because it’s gone doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing, it still lives on and it’s still celebrated for me.”
Detractors will inevitably point to the album’s music as redundant. But those willing to listen will recognize that the continuity of the guitar play allows a greater focus on the main event – the writing. Besides, the finger picking is immaculate. It offers a rhythm and tone reminiscent of Townes Van Zandt. The strength of the release makes it easy to forget that this is a debut, and Howard has an entire career to explore new sounds.
Like Kristofferson watching Prine play for the first time in that dimly lit Chicago bar, records like Howard’s and Hip Hatchet’s Joy and Better Days have reinvigorated my belief that some of music’s most powerful contributors require no more than an acoustic guitar and a fresh perspective. They serve as a reminder that at the end of the day, you better have something to say, and you better say it with conviction. They are songwriters that bring us closer to truth. What more could you ask from art? Grab your copy of the Barna Howard LP from Mama Bird Recording Co.
Connect with Barna Howard via Facebook
Written by Rob Peoni
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Video: Barna Howard (The Portland Sessions)
Thought on Tracks 
Thoughts on Japandroids ‘Celebration Rock’
We all want to know what nobody knows. What nights of wine and roses hold for the wine and roses of our souls.
Everything in life is a journey. Learning anything takes time, experience, and most importantly a genuine interest in the subject matter. Whether it’s a getting through school, a career, or just learning how to knit socks, nothing comes easy. A craft or an interest takes dedication to allow the results to come to fruition, but is an end really ever reached? I hope not, and you should as well because if there is, you’ve picked something that’s led you to a dead end. If you truly love something, everlasting growth is the true pinnacle.
Long lit up tonight and still drinking. Don’t we have anything to live for? Well of course we do, but ‘til they come true, we’re drinking.
Musical taste is no different. My first tape was Ace of Base Happy Nation and 311’s self-titled album. My first CD was Mase’s Harlem World in the sixth grade. Puff Daddy, Master P, Juvenille, BIG, and Tupac led me through my awkward middle school years up until the middle of high school. At this point, music was a way to fit in. But then me and my best high friends met and we starting listening to Saves the Day, The Movie Life, Alkaline Trio, Taking Back Sunday, Starting Line and every other band that played Warped Tour. We dressed in tight band T’s and jeans and went to shows at Bogarts in Clifton. We thought we were cool. Life was care free, it was fun. But this proved to be only a foot in the shallow end.
Heart’s terrain is never a prairie but you weren’t wary. You took my hand through the cold, pissing rain dressed to the nines arm in arm with me tonight.
Next I went to college, and I met fellow ToTer Brett. We talked music…a lot. We took a class on Bob Marley and went to it every day with the mindset that Bob Marley would. Music became so much more, it became an everyday talking point and something the entirety of our yearly calendars was based up. There was always a new album to look forward to and a show to go see. Hundreds of them to be exact. And the best part is, there still is. And now you all get to read about it here.
Give me that night you were already in bed, said fuck it, and got up to drink with me instead.
This is obviously not a review about the sophomore LP of Japandroids entitled Celebration Rock. There are plenty of great ones out there that you can Google and go read. But I will talk about why I love this album. I can’t stop spinning this record because it’s the combination of my musical past and present. It’s a combination of every cool thing about the bands I loved in high school: sometimes you just need to say fuck it and enjoy life. It’s about drinking, staying up late, one night love affairs, and being young. It’s about jumping up and down at a show and just letting loose. It’s two guys standing on stage, one beating the shit out of a guitar and the other the drums. The simple raw emotion that is poured into it is a contagious soul lifting spirit to the listener.
One night to have and to hold. To Let Live, but never let go.
This album represents a fountain of youth to me. Some days, I wake up and feel old. I’m 26 and I feel as though everything is mapped out and moving too fast. As if there’s nothing left to even look forward too. That youthful outlook on life has been beaten up somewhat by adulthood. But then I throw this album on and everything makes more sense. Live today. Turn the volume up. Fucking yell for Christ’s sake. Most importantly, just go do something.
Hitchiked to hell and back riding the wind waiting for a generation’s bonfire to begin. When the punder of the poets thunder of a punk’s guitar, beat life to my body sulking drunk at the back of a bar.
Celebration Rock is just what it says it is. It symbolically opens and closes with fireworks because it’s an album that ultimately celebrates two people doing, and getting, what they want out of life. But perhaps the best part about this album is that it takes a rock and throws it right through the glass window of the snobbish indie world. Judge and critique all you want, but we’ll still be right here rocking out the way we want to.
When they love you (and they will), tell them all, they’ll love in my shadow and if they try to slow you down, tell them all, to go to hell.
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Written by Greg Dahman