The very first song I heard by Strongarm was their cut on Tooth & Nail’s Helpless Amongst Friends Volume One. The song they contributed was “Count The Cost”, an admonition of believers to bear the sacrifice and burdens of being a follower of Christ.  That song really impressed upon me and convicted me about my Christian life, something that really stuck with me.

Strongarm’s album Atonement is no different. Strongarm has some very insightful and powerful songs, lyrically and musically. I’m not too familiar with the hardcore scene, so I can’t really make any comparisons to bands. But this album is heavy.

All of the musicianship is top-noptch and tight. The sound quality is crisp and well-produced. I’ve often wondered about the stamina of artists who play this music; the frenetic rate at which they play their instruments can only be God-given. Jason Berggren’s vocals are truly awe-inspiring as he snarls and roars throughout the album.  Surprisingly, this ferocity doesn’t come at the loss of the message’s clarity; everything he says comes across clearly and plainly. This shows considerable talent, considering the intensity with which he sings.

The album begins with “Division”, a song the decries ignorance, and the blindness that hatred and anger breeds. “Trials” is an open account of the struggles that Christians face: “Again and again I struggle with myself, my shortcomings/My strength, my soul, so weary of this/I have to face the pain of my fault/within these tests, these trials, the marks I miss”.

In the end, the purpose of trials is revealed, along with the strength that we have been given to overcome them.

While most of the songs deal with internal struggle and demons, “Innocence Lost” deals with the pain and shame of abortion. But where some Christians would like to speak in images of judgement and despair, Strongarm uses a message of hope—in “a life of regret, still grace abounds”. People who have chosen abortion as a way out do not need the hatred of Christians, or their judgement. Strongarm sets an example by realizing that God’s grace still abounds to these people.

In the end, Strongarm looks at the church with the most moving song on this album, IMHO. “Strengthened In Faith” contains one of the most perfect statements of the strength and power we as Christians have. To a breakneck, marching beat, Berggren proudly states: “Accomplishing the perfecting of our faith/An understanding of what is right/Accepting our allotment in this life/These days are numbered, rooted in turmoil/We must fight the good fight/Every day brings a spiritual battle/Not exceeding anyone’s limitations/To refine us so that we may be prepared for the next/Though we become weary/It has been granted unto us/The ability to remain loyal, unshaken in spirit”.

I could go on quoting lyrics from this album. Each song features throughtful, well-written lyrics that are founded on Christian ideology. If there is any one theme that runs through this album, it is that this life is full of struggles, but Christ’s strength in us allows us to prevail. IMO, this is something that we as Christians need to reminded of as often as possible.

I’ve been a fan of Ronnie Martin’s ever since his days in Dance House Children. His beautiful synthpop, mixed with delightfully innocent and childish lyrics, and a delicate voice were always a beautiful contrast. That formula carries over into his Joy Electric days, but the music has even more depth.

It’s easy to dismiss Joy Electric as electronic “beep beep”/video game music(as my roommate and many friends do). It’s probably this reason that he fails to get any recognition, in this age of punk wannabes and rehashes. However, digging beneath the surface, you see that all of those electronic bells and whistles are merely trappings for some of the most beautiful pop songs and melodies you’ll hear. Case in point, “May All Saints” features a very heavy “bleeps and beeps” content, but you also hear poignant, drifting synth melodies, along with Ronnie’s delicate, almost effeminate vocals. However, many people will just stop at the surface and won’t hear the beauty contained in each of these 10 songs.

This album also sees another increase in Martin’s lyrical depth. The lyrics are rife with medieval imagery, which makes for a delightful contrast with the synthesizers and electronic sounds. On “Burgundy Years”, Martin sings: “The scepter song hearkens dominion/To sew the champion/The mantle of the sword bearer/Becomes the hummers harp of elation/Foes from the northern nook/And spirits from the fall/Behold the ancient emperor/Has arms outstretched to all.”

There is also Christian imagery presented, but Martin again shows his tact and tastefulness by using stirring images and poetic language to paint a beautiful picture of God and His love. Not once does Martin resort to cliche and brow-beating. His lyrics are well-written and several images have multiple meanings, adding more dimension to the songs, without sacrificing any emotional ties. I rarely come across a writer who is as open about his desires, failures, and loves as Ronnie Martin.

At the risk of sounding cheesy, Joy Electric’s music brings back a sort of wistfulness, for more innocent carefree days. Maybe it’s the hooks and melodies that hit me, or the unpretentious lyrics, or the pure electronic sounds he uses. While this music may not be for everyone, I’m convinced that Joy Electric writes the best pop songs on the planet, electronic or not. I love Ronnie Martin’s music, and it’s sad to see such a genius fail to get the respect he so richly deserves.

This is the first Vidna Obmana album I bought and already, I’m very intrigued by his work.  On “The River of Appearances”, the foundation of Obmana’s music are his slowly building, subtle sound loops.  Rather than making his music boring and repetitive, like sound loops could easily become, the loops are very soothing and serene, like watching the clouds change shape or watching colors fade on a painting.  Soft, looped sounds roll and pulsate throughout each composition, while fragments of melodies occasionally occur, consisting of sparse piano lines or guitar phrases.  This is very effective in drawing me away to a calmer place, similar to that not-awake-yet-not-asleep feeling you get.

Some of the songs project a romantic mood, but in that longing, forlorn way that Projekt is famous for.  And don’t be scared off by the Projekt name that appears on the album.  This is not gothic, goth-ambient, darkwave, or any other dark music cliche.  Vidna Obmana’s music is beautiful and melancholy, but not overly so.  Rather, they create a serene mood, perfect for contemplation, reflection, and/or meditation.  While none of these songs could be considered dark, they are all exquisitely made and this shows in the effect they have on me.

Occasionally, ethnic percussion appears to propel the song along.  But Obmana uses it in small amounts(a tasteful approach imho), relying on the sound loops and celestial to create the mood.  The music is spacy and not too empty, but just enough to make you appreciate the sounds.  Each song is so well-composed that they just seem to flow into eachother, but yet can stand on their own merit.

This is some of the most relaxing music I own, and by far one of the best ambient albums I own.  The songs aren’t too terribly long, the longest being slightly over 10 minutes.  While sometimes I wished the songs were longer, I think this adds more diversity to the album.  It left me wanting more, which is the mark of an artist.  It would be very easy for this music to become boring and banal, but Obmana injects a personal and spiritual aspect to his music.  Sometimes, the music truly sounds divine.

I first heard Labradford when I picked up their first album, Prazision, when I went to go see Low in concert last November. After listening to Prazision, I was pretty disappointed. I thought this was supposed to be a hallmark of icy ambience. Their music seemed a little pretentious and failed to hold my interest. While there were a few bright spots, overall the CD was destined to gather dust on my shelf.

But I kept hearing people rave about them, so I thought that maybe I was missing out on something. I mean, not everyone could be wrong. After seeing this album several times in a local indie music store(well, the only indie music store in Lincoln), I plunked down the money for it. I am so glad I did.

“Phantom Channel Crossing” starts off with the rattling of chains drawn across a metal container as dark sounds pulse and throb in the background. The song continues building up, leading you to some Godforsaken place. Suddenly, it’s replaced by “Midrange.” Imagine a Low song, if Mimi Parker switched the viola. It’s a quiet piece, broken up by electronic bleeps, downright serene compared to “Phantom Channel Crossing.”

“Pico” is an endearing track. Beginning with the bassline, a church organ and sparse guitar melody soon join in. Over the whispered vocals, a haunting moog is heard, evoking a nostalgic sense. It’s like something that might be played while driving through adandoned towns lying in deep snowy shrouds and forests. On “The Cipher”, you’re listening to a blizzard. The wind whips across the barren prairies and plays along the telephone wires. The wires resonate and sing in the wind, like a disembodied wall of voices howling in the middle of the night.

Barren and desolate, this album evokes the feeling of driving down long stretches of abandoned highway on a winter night; the only light comes from glancing at the stars above and the disembodied lights floating on the highway in front of you. It’s a beautiful work, glittering with ice and chilly atmospheres.

Low has always impressed me with their ability to make the most lethargic melody haunting and beautiful, to take the simplest phrase and harmony and turn it into something that just hits you in the heart. On their newest release, The Curtain Hits The Cast, they stick to their tried and true formula of playing the most sedate pop music one can imagine. On paper, their music shouldn’t work. Guitars, bass, minimal drums, and vocals shouldn’t be able to make cohesive music that slow and sparse. However, Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker’s beautifully melancholy vocal harmonies and Sparhawk’s masterful guitarplaying make it work.

The album opens up with “Anon”, which reminds me somewhat of The Cure’s Pornography album, with it’s heavy, almost ominous bassline and swirling feedback. “The Plan” and “Over The Ocean” feature two of the most beautiful melodies Low has ever written. The latter almost brought me to tears with its tender male/female vocal harmonies. Sparhawk and Parkers’ harmonies are perhaps the most beautiful element of Low’s sound. This adds a dash of sunlight to the wintry lands that their music conjures up.

Most of the songs creep along at a snails pace and gradually build to a climax, as in “Standby” where the song culminates in Sparhawk’s delicate, weary vocals floating among the building guitars. “Mom Says” has Sparhawks’ falsetto vocals at their weariest, perfectly open and vulnerable. How a voice can be that tired and weary and yet stirring is yet one more of Low’s strengths.

However, all of the songs on The Curtain Hits The Cast—with the possible exception of “The Plan” and “Over The Ocean”—pale when compared to the 14-minute long “Do You Know How To Waltz”. This song is perhaps the masterpiece of the album, a long, slowly building of guitar and bass drone and sparse, trickling piano lines. The song just builds from silence and hovers there, drawing you into the looping sounds while a fluid bassline pushes it along. It’s effect is slightly eerie and disturbing, and overpowering.

For all of my raving, it did take me awhile to get into it. Perhaps because the Low’s sparse formula, however good it may be, is wearing a little thin. Imagining the soft swell of a cello with their vocal harmonies gives me the shivers. But until then, The Curtain Hits The Cast is a masterpiece of minimal pop. Noone plays it better than Low. I listened to this album while returning home from Christmas break. The entire countryside was covered with a winter fog; everything turned ghostly and pale, the trees looking like ghosts and passing cars disappeared before you could really get a look at them. Looking back, I can think of nothing that suited the mood better.

I am going to say this as emphatically as I possibly can. This album contains some of the most beautiful music I have ever had the mortal pleasure of hearing. This music moves me everytime I hear it. I know, I know. You’re probably saying that I claim that a lot about the music I own. Well, it’s true. But this album stands head and shoulders above the rest.

The album combines beautiful string arrangements, processed vocals, and minor key synths to create music that is a mixture of classical and darker ambient musics. Songs like “Ars Moriendi” use string arrangements to cut into your heart like a scalpel, and then wrenches it with a good tug. The music on here is pure melancholy. No angst, no nihilism. Just pure sadness, the sadness for things that have passed in time and there is no hope to recover them.

However, this album is also very uplifting. Not to sound overly melodramatic, but this music is what I picture souls entering heaven hear. There is a definite sorrow here, but it is a sorrow that doesn’t cripple or mope, but inspires. This music is perfect for writing, or just contemplating about times long past.

As a soundtrack, this album makes me really want to see the movie. I’ve heard wonderful things about this film, which won an Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 1992. I just hope that the movie is as beautiful as the score. Children Of Nature creates a backdrop of loss, beauty, sadness, hope, salvation, and tenderness and I cannot recommend it enough.

If I have one complaint about this album, it is that it’s too short. I find myself wishing this was a double compact disc or something. Each song could unfold into a brilliant symphony. As it is, each song is little vignette, creating its own mix of feelings and evoking its own set of memories. Forget about what you thought beauty was about. This album will set you on the right track. Go buy it, now.

Note: I have seen the movie and it’s a wonderful film, full of beautiful scenery and cinematography. The music just adds to the overall poignancy of the film, especially “Snatis’s Death” and “Coffin”. Rent it as soon as possible.

Lovesliescrushing occupies that musical terrain that combines the like of My Bloody Valentine, Seefeel, the Cocteau Twins, and other dreampop/beautiful noise artists.  On first listen, Xuvetyn is noisy, loud, and chaotic.  However, when you listen to it more, the melodies and the songs rise to the surface.

Because of their sound, Lovesliescrushing may seem a little bit at odds with the rest of the Projekt stable.  They’re not gothic or darkwave, and they’re not really melancholy or introspective, something most other Projekt artists have in spades.  But that doesn’t mean they make dull, uninspired music.  Personally, I’ve found that in some ways, Lovesliescrushing is one of the more complicated and challenging Projekt bands, simply because of their sound and experimentation.

Noise and feedback slide into eachother, are changed, and fill the room.  Gorgeous veils of gossamer sound just seem to hover in front of you, with the most extreme noises filtering in at the edge.  On “Staticburst,” I’m reminded of that scene in Jean Cocteau’s Orphee, when Orphee is seated in the car, picking up the ghostly transmissions; feedback and noise sound like the radio transmissions of ghosts, trying to break through to this world.

“Silver (Fairy-Threaded)” is a beautiful slow piece, that gently evolves from sparse chords to more of Loveliescrushing’s noise.  I like this track quite a bit because we can actually hear Melissa’s vocals.  Like most other dreampop/beautiful noise bands, the vocals are usually buried low in the mix, treated simply as another instrument.  In Lovesliescrushing’s case, that might be a mistake.  The vocalist has a gorgeous, child-like voice, reminiscent of Seefeel’s Sarah Peacock.  I would like to see more of it used, but that’s my opinion.

Lovesliescrushing utilizes an amazing sound palette, that runs the gamut from all-out wall of noise blitzkriegs to the soft tinkling sounds of individual strings, to fret buzz and God knows what else.  That’s probably the most fascinating thing about them, their ability to push any sound to the max and still write cohesive songs.  And that fact is even more amazing when you consider the fact that all of this is done with guitars; no drums, no bass, no keyboards, nothing.  Just experimentation with a guitar and voice.  However, Lovesliescrushing uses these two instruments to get an extremely full and lush sound, much more so than you would think.

In all aspects, Xuvetyn is much, much better than Loveliescrushing’s Projekt debut, Bloweyelashwish.  The sound is much more professional and solid.  At times, Bloweyelashwish seemed a little too pretentious, like they were trying to hard.  On Xuvetyn, they’ve produced a much fuller, and much more interesting album.  At almost 70 minutes, the album is a bit much to take in, and the tracks seem to eventually bleed into eachother.

It’ll be interesting to see how Lovesliescrushing will further develop this sound.  At times, I feel like the music they make doesn’t leave much room for evolution.  It could be possible for Lovesliescrushing to find themselves making this same kind of music with each release, and grow stagnant.  With their next release, they’ll either top Xuvetyn(which would be one heck of a feat), or they’ll release an album that falls down with the rest of the “ethereal noise with female vocals” bands.  Only time will tell, but for now, this album shows why Lovesliescrushing are at the head of the beautiful-noise scene.

I’ve had this album for several months, but it’s now just starting to grow on me. Roadside Monument plays that kind of music that’s really hard to classify. I suppose the generic term is “emo-punk,” and they definitely fit into the “emo” part, with very loud, noisy songs and powerful vocals. However, they don’t fit the punk mold at all. Musically, Roadside Monument is all over the place, with quiet lounge flavorings on “Seed,” poppy melodies on “,” and huge guitar walls on “Prozac Princess.” But the most interesting part of Roadside Monument is the fact that they change musical styles so much within one song.

My favorite example of this is “Seed,” which starts off really smooth and swank, but soon transforms into something else entirely, with vocalist Doug Lorig screaming over pummeling guitars. That’s the beauty of this album, the variety and the skill with which they use that variety. Each of the songs build to climaxes that explode in raw beauty, with progressions that tug at you. Even though the album contains 10 songs, it’s almost as if you listen to three times that many. The vocals are rough and unpolished, but there’s a touching sincerity about them, especially on “Boasting in Weakness,” where Lorig sings about his dependance on God, or on “Prozac Princess.”

Even though this album clocks in at 40 minutes, the album seems much longer than that. While musically, their sound ranges from Sunny Day Real Estate to Sonic Youth, they are strong enough to stand on their own. There’s a delightful quirkiness to them, one that draws you in. I can listen to this album several times and each song sounds fresh with each new listen. Roadside Monument’s music is instantly accessible, but has enough depth, intensity, and emotion to keep me coming back.