LESS PEOPLE, MORE ROBOTS_SELF-TITLED

Less People, More Robots
Self-Titled 

LPMR = Fiona Apple + Weezer

My friend Melinda told me that robots are one of the three things in the entire world that scare her. The other two are children and monogamy. Go figure. Though some, like Melinda, would argue against having more robots in the world, you’ll probably be hard-pressed to find anyone in the SLC area that thinks there should not be more bands like Less People, More Robots. They’re mellow-core though certainly not mediocre, poppy and almost mournful without being emo. Hints of danger are scattered throughout the album, and they would be starkly original if the genre “college rock” didn’t already exist.

Rope or Bullets - Call It for What You Want

Rope or Bullets
Call It for What You Want

Rope or Bullets = Atom and His Package + Modern English

 

From the band that brought you “I Love Personality,” the outright best song on the Death By Salt compilation, comes a six-song precursor to a full-length album. Rope or Bullets, though not the rockin’est band in the scene (which isn’t at all what they’re going for), is probably the most intelligent and creative. So intelligent, in fact, that they have figured out how to write songs that invoke a myriad of emotions without being whiny and emo. Dual vocalists belt out heartfelt tunes with senses of humor and life and love over super-catchy electro-pop melodies that make you feel happy, but not in any sort of “ignorance is bliss” way. Brilliant.

De la Vega_Innovation

De la Vega
Innovation

Funk Factory Music
De la Vega = MTV cover band

 

A letter accompanying this album alerts those unaware in SLC that straight outta Idaho, De la Vega is coming our way. They note that their songs have been played on television quite a bit for shows like Blue Torch TV. Though most of their songs are rock-rappish like 311 or Incubus, there’s also a flat-out reggae track, a reggae desperado love song and a spot-on Audioslave ripoff. If they had moved to SLC two years ago, X96 would have pissed their pants over them.

DELICCATO_EVERYONE LOVES THE SUN

Deliccato
Everyone Loves the Sun

Kitefishing Family
Deliccato = (My Bloody Valentine + Broken Social Scene) x synthpop

Creating a brand new sound in music is both difficult for artists and exciting for listeners. Piecing together a thousand tidbits of quirky randomness and melding them together to form a signature sound that is forever shifting and simultaneously streamlined is not nearly as difficult, but is still quite interesting. This is exactly what Deliccato has done. Synth-heaviness and vocals that sound like a new-wave Jello Biafra are the only steadfast constants on an album that swings from upbeat to mid-beat. Though you won’t be able to catch Deliccato in concert any time soon, experience them in your own stereo with Everyone Loves the Sun.

Discourse

Discourse
Self-Titled

Discourse = Every Time I Die + My Morning Jacket + whatever

A band named Discourse and scenes of urban pandemonium on a jacket cover generally sway me to believe that the album I’m about to hear is probably going to be punk rock of some fashion—or at least something hardcore or possibly anti-establishment. My, how in this case, I was wrong. Discourse brings forth a putrid blend of wimpiness and power chords that, like many other bands in the same “melodic hardcore” genre, have slipped past the guards at the gates of the underground under the veil of mall-bought ethos and black eyeliner. What a pity for the kids.

Dreno - Self-Titled

Dreno
Self-Titled

Dreno = God Forbid + Downset

 

When Dreno’s got it, they got it. Unfortunately, they become confused every now and then and, apparently, due to a longing for originality in a saturated hardcore/metal market, stray from what they do best (ridiculously heavy riffs and guttural vocals) and incorporate things like spoken-word emo rhyming and Sarah McLochlan-style guest singers. Hopefully, they will realize one day that, if you’re original, do something original, but there is nothing wrong with doing something that’s already been done really, really well, as they do on most of this four-song demo.

THE FURIES_SUNDAY SATELLITE

The Furies
Sunday Satellite

Dumb Angels
The Furies = (Pavement + Lou Reed) x emo

 

The songs on Sunday Satellite are well thought-out, well produced and could serve as an accessory to a deep, deep depression. This minimalist, sad indie rock of The Furies could either woo the right concert audience into a feeling of comfortable compassion or woo the wrong audience right to sleep. Vocalist Nick Bryson would do well to stay away from screaming and stick to his Malkmus-esque, intimate tone of singing. The instrumentals do well to complement the melancholy, interesting lyrics. This album bums me out, but not necessarily in a bad way.