Blast From The Past

Man Man – Rabbit Habits

By Jason C.

Two thousand nine is still pretty fresh, so while we give it a little time to bloom, I felt we should look back on another album from ought-eight. This hidden jewel comes from the strange audio-scribblings of Philadelphia's Man Man. Their latest album, Rabbit Habits, puts the band in a very good light, as it is their catchiest and most pop-sensible one to date, but showcases the qualities that make their live shows so enthralling. This is a surprising dichotomy for a band with such an unclassifiable style. The most accurate description of these guys that I've read was "gypsy-swamp-rock-carny-soul- viking-vaudeville-punk." Quite a mouthful, I know.

These experimenters have a penchant for using a wide variety of instruments, along with many non-instruments (such as kitchenware and toys), to conjure up a sound that truly puts them in a genre of their own. While this record seems to be the logical continuation of their last release, Six Demon Bag, it displays more mature song writing and is, on the whole, much more accessible (God, I hate using the word "accessible" but there was really no other way).

The album kicks off with the spastic dance-a-thons of "Mister Jung Stuffed" and my personal favorite, "Hurly/Burly." It then veers into piano ballads such as "Doo Right" and the title track, sails the chaotic seas of live-show dynamite with "Harpoon Fever" and "Top Drawer, " and closes with the lounge-act magnificence of "Whalebones." All in all, this is a thoroughly entertaining album, but it requires the proper mood and mindset. So, picture a world where Frank Zappa is president and Tom Waits is VP. In that world, Man Man's Rabbit Habits would be like Nirvana's Nevermind.

Chad VanGaalen – Soft Airplane
By Sean B.

Not unlike many retro sounding bands like MGMT, Chad VanGaalen rehashes and updates older music - however, C.V. seems to channel one artists' nuances rather than a whole genre or era. It’s hard to listen to Chad VanGaalen’s Soft Airplane and not hear Neil Young throughout. From the warbly nasal voice, the melancholy ballads and the crunchy garage rockers it seems as if Chad is a modern channel for Neil.

VanGaalen peppers his songs with loops, blips and keyboards but nowhere enough to consider this an “electronic” album. Death is a common theme throughout, from the plucky banjo opener “Willow Tree” (in which VanGaalen requests a Viking funeral), the surprisingly upbeat “Cries of the Dead" (nuff said), and the eery “Molten Light” (a story about a girl who is either a ghost or was nearly murdered and… okay, it’s getting morbid). The album isn’t nearly as depressing as I’m making it sound, but that’s not to say its all puppies and rainbows either.

I prefer the more garage rocky tunes like “Bones of Man” and “Bare Feet On Wet Griptape” along with the most “produced” song, “Phantom Anthills,” but I enjoy many of the folksier ones as well. Since I've never heard of Chad VanGaalen, I decided to do some in depth investigation. He’s a Canadien who has been signed to Sub-Pop since 2005 and has released one previous album called Skelliconnection along with a few EPs. I have no idea where I found this album, or how it got onto my computer, but I do know that Soft Airplane is damn good enough that now I’m going to track down this Skelliconnection.