Listening Station: The Chemical Brothers, Soledad Brothers, Magnolia Electric Co., The Academy Is...

Chemical Brothers continue kicking out tech 'n' roll

The Chemical Brothers

Push the Button

Lately, many electronic music DJs have been programming rock remixes, or "rockist" dance tracks, for the climactic portions of their sets--except for one. During the first edition of his monthly "Fundacion" residency in Los Angeles, British progressive house pioneer Sasha did end his set with a go-home-smiling house redux of the Killers' "Mr. Brightside," but the most ecstatic moment of the four-hour set came 20 minutes earlier when he dropped the Chemical Brothers' "Galvanize," the first single off their fifth studio album, Push the Button. For most of the clubbers, the looks on their faces were of discovery, revelation and elation.

"Galvanize"--a mighty 4/4-beat anthem highlighted by an ascendant, three-note synth riff, a Middle Eastern string sample and former Tribe Called Quest MC Q-Tip on vocals--may not be the best song of Ed Simons and Tom Rowland's formidable catalog, but it sure ranks among their best. It reminds you exactly why the English duo is considered one of the figurehead acts of modern electronic music, and why, seven years after its breakthrough, the act remains relevant. For every naysayer writing off both the Chems and their associated genre, "Galvanize" is an effective and resounding rebuttal--as is its host album.

Push the Button is a more proactive and invigorating effort than 2002's Come With Us. Where the latter effort attempted transcendence, Push is direct and immediate. It foregoes some of the repetition and density of the Chems' previous works, and continues their evolution from raucous Big Beat to a distinctive and subtly emotive form of progressive house.

And yet it retains some of the duo's sonic identity, such as its hip-hop (the martial "Left Right" with MC Anwar Superstar) and breakbeat rocktronica roots (potential single "The Boxer," sung by the Charlatans' Tim Burgess). Samples are still tweaked, such as in the throwback "Marvo Ging," and yet some tracks, like the atmospheric "Close Your Eyes," recreate more of a live-instrument sound.

Most noteworthy about Push may be its head-embedding, rock-flavored tunefulness (the chorus in the ethereal "Surface To Air" recalls the hook from the Strokes' "The Modern Age"), colored by a sociopolitical--though not ideological--urgency. "I need you to believe!" roars Bloc Party's Kele Okereke during the propulsive "Believe," another example of how the Chems galvanize as much now as they ever have.--Mike Prevatt

Soledad Brothers

Voice of Treason

On their major-label debut, the Soledad Brothers tromp around in some tough territory, drawing inspiration from the Rolling Stones as well as their Detroit music scene buddies, the White Stripes. The challenge, of course, is to absorb those influences and create something all their own.

They don't really succeed, sometimes sounding more like a tribute act than a band blazing its own trail. "Lowdown Streamline" and "On Time" channel Jagger and Richards, while "Sons of Dogs" and "I'm So Glad" are reminiscent of Jack White's whimsical moments. "The Elucidator" and "Ain't It Funny" echo the groove-based blues of John Lee Hooker.

Still, Voice of Treason is a well-crafted, pleasant-enough album that the Soledad Brothers seem very capable of improving upon the next time out. The Ohio-bred band manages to escape its influences on three tracks: "Cage That Tiger," a bouncy garage rocker that, while not exactly groundbreaking, is a hip-shakin' departure from the album's general sluggishness; "Only Flower in My Bed," a haunting alt-country ballad featuring finely understated vocals by Alethea Williams; and "Lorali," a bluesy crawl highlighted by deft slide guitar flourishes.

And what of the Soledad Brothers' much-touted anarchism? Except for the band moniker (named after three African-American inmates convicted of killing a guard in a California prison) and the album's punny title, there's not much evidence of revolution here.--Geoff Schumacher

Magnolia Electric Co.

Trials & Errors

Put another notch in the indie identity-shifting chic bedpost: from out the ashes of singer-songwriter Jason Molina's Songs: Ohia manifestation comes Magnolia Electric Co. Despite this shellgame shift of names--using Songs: Ohia's last album title as the new incarnation's moniker--the four-piece has changed little, given the roster of performers present at the 2003 Brussels show from which Trials & Errors takes its tracks. Likewise, Molina's musical alchemy retains all of its power, perhaps more confident in its big-boy pants: Toffee-tenor firmly intact and dexterous, the songs--some new, some old--are fully fleshed in this live environment.

Reviewers and press releases are eager to pick up on Neil Young comparisons, and hell, Molina himself whips out "Tonight's the Night" late in the set here featured. And the comparisons work insofar as they capture an essence of Molina's intensely personal lyrics and slow-guitar grooving song structures, and his vocal sonority as well.

But such comparisons are limp-fish handshakes. Buy Trials instead. Change your name and contemplate your navel.--Chad Lietz

The Academy Is...

Almost Here

You're four songs deep into the record. You've already endured every by-the-pop-punk-book chord progression imaginable, and the syrupy whine of singer William Beckett is quickly getting on your nerves. Then, track five comes along. It's called "Black Mamba," and Bennett sings, "When they review the debut/ What if the critics hate you/ Don't worry `cuz it just might catch somebody off their feet." Wait! You're about to pan this guy and he's totally dismissing your critic ass. Then he sings the chorus: "Oh Mr. Magazine/ Never wrote one single thing for you/ Your so-called music scene/ It don't mean shit to me." Tough words from a frontman who apparently fell out of the cheeseball tree and hit every sensitive singer/songwriter cliché branch on the way down.

The debut disc from Chicago quintet The Academy Is... earns some points for the occasional catchy pop chorus or Weezeresque melody, but these 10 tracks all sound the same. Beckett's style is pretty hard to handle, even on a more raw rock song such as "Checkmarks." Dashboard Confessional producer James Paul Wisner apparently didn't care that these guys are taking every cue from the Chris Carrabba playbook, a strategy not easily executed for a bunch of kids forcing its so-called sincerity down your throat.--Brock Radke

The Academy Is... performs with Something Corporate, Straylight Run and Armor For Sleep at the House of Blues 6 p.m. Sat., Feb. 12. Info: 632-7600.