New Music: Panthers, Earth

Panthers - Listen to Me (Vice 2007)

Panthers - The Trick / Vice

Panthers. Hmm. Well, it's about time, I'll say that much. Maybe I'm in the minority; after all, I never had the pleasure of seeing Orchid tear me up live or even gave a damn about their dogma. They were one of those scene bands I could only respect from a distance because, while they were the best at what they did (Screamo), they almost singlehandedly launched a million awful bands and certainly affected the way hardcore and the independent punk scene saw (and did not see) itself. I don't have that New England scene background, just a boring suburban kid with an unhealthy knowledge of The Smashing Pumpkins and tastes that came around to Orchid just a hair's breath too late. The kids have respect and I finally found mine too. So what better way for the respective members to continue honoring the legacy of this band than by whipping out some cock-rock and throwing a little Baudrillard in for show?

Er, don't ask Ampere. You probably won't catch them dead hanging out in Greenpoint looking pretty for Vice. But Panthers... Panthers pull it off. The Trick is their third argument for their sex n' philosophy pseudo-intellectual R N' R, but if you didn't like 2004's Things Are Strange, chances are you're not going to be tricked into swiping up a copy of this either. And that's fine; at this point, Panthers are established enough (or at least, they believe themselves to be established enough... Although recent tour difficulties and label complications might suggest otherwise) to be able to hone in on a sound they've been trying to master since they first formed in 2002. But who of the Orchid crowd is still listening? And will anyone ever bring up Turing Machine or Pitchblende?

I don't know, maybe that question isn't even relevant anymore. We're half a decade removed from that YouTube video anyone who's tried to relive the glory days will surely have found by now. Can't we all just get over it? Same goes for the others. I've painted Panthers in an awfully negative light thus far, but like a lot of stupid kids I feel obliged to weigh The Trick against Orchid rather than against their growing catalog of songs. That's my mistake, but don't let it be yours: This album is lean, mean and as ferocious as the animal from which they take their name.

I've sat with this album for awhile now and tried to love it more than Things Are Strange, but whereas the scorching album closer "Weird Birds" almost singlehandedly made that album a must for 2004, there are no epic freak-outs here. Panthers might have found their stride, but they've cut all the excess in favor of straight-ahead rock songs that leave little to the imagination. I just don't know what to think.

...And therein lies the ultimate problem with this band: So often they have put all the pieces in one place and Jayson Greene has been spot-on and the riffs have been dynamite. But unlike some people, I don't think they are at their strongest when they simply bring it. I also don't think they've done their best work yet. In one of the most blatant id vs. superego contests in rock, the real joy of Panthers was in seeing them balance out French deconstructionists with the politics of fucking. At this point, they've let the id win: There's nary a word to be found on postmodernism and the intellectual BS I love wallowing in because Panthers have instead opted for vague allusions in favor of outright saying anything about Jacques Attali. I for one hope the victory is temporary and though I'll cautiously endorse The Trick mostly because I at least still believe in this band... The truth is, I think the band has been listening to the media a little too much. What they need is to return to their strengths: A power chord and some tasteful high-brow namedropping are all that separate the best White Panther house-band ripoff I've ever heard and a truly great piece of music. For at least one more album, we'll wait with our heads banging almost in spite of ourselves. Maybe being heavy is the only key.



Earth - Coda Maestoso in F (Flat) Minor (Southern Lord 2007)

Earth - Hibernaculum / Southern Lord

Unlike Panthers, Earth take a different approach to heavy. Panthers stride the line between MC5 swagger and full-on Orchid-esque brutality. No such luck here: Like a lumbering behemoth, the quintessential drone pirates from Seattle led by Dylan Carlson are prepared to drag their feet so slowly you can barely stand it. This is the stuff of which Sunn 0))) (or Mars) and the best of Boris was bred: At only four tracks and standing at what would ordinarily constitute a modest LP in 36 minutes, Hibernaculum is another strong statement from the return of the weighty beasts. Sort of.

I say "another strong statement" because Carlson has never really "broken up" Earth. In essence, he is Earth. Using the same moniker since 1990, he has included a rotating cast of characters during his 17-year run. A few groundbreaking drone works in the early 90s here, a few failed experiments there, a remix LP somewhere in the midst, and now a rehashing of a few older releases; none of this material is new, actually. The first three songs here, "Ouroboros is Broken," "Coda Maestoso in F (Flat) Minor," and "Miami Morning Coming Down," are all much older works from as far back as 1991 - the fourth, "A Plague of Angels," has been tidied up from a tour-only split 12 with Sunn 0))).

It really doesn't matter, because the awesome power of Earth is that they are as timeless as the concept of repetition in art. Droning ever onward, that's the magic to the sword of this stone. Where Mogwai or Slint or Isis are content to move away from the repetition to build to something satisfying, Carlson takes the opposite approach: By never letting go of the reigns, every song always feels prepared to break out into something. It never does. Keep waiting, go home, go away. The joy isn't in the build-up, because there is none. The build-up is the payoff and vice versa, back and forth and over and over and over again like the planets swerving around the sun(n) in eternal orbit. Earth is in eternal orbit because no one is there to tell Carlson to just lay off for a little while, give them something to talk about, give them something to chew the fat about later. But giving in would be giving up on the Earth aura, and that's not something the beautiful piano in "Miami Morning Coming Down" is ready to concede.

Even as "A Plague of Angels" fades in, you know it's a false dawn. There will be plenty of patient guitar notes plucked in excruciating sloth, walking carefully around in endless circles as the kids stand in the crowd watching it all melt together on the accompanying DVD. Carlson explains his love of slow music and if for no other reason, pick up this album for the post-Hex tour footage and interview. The master stroke of this album, no pun intended, might also be the accompanying artwork done by one Mr. Stephen O'Malley and the equally reputable Seldon Hunt. Together, they paint the picture Earth may try to obfuscate in the fog of a cover like Living in the Gleam of an Unsheathed Sword. Yes, this is the brilliance and the detail and the clarity that these reworked songs deserve. In a strange but appropriate juxtaposition, Earth's Hibernaculum could not offer so much without so much minimalism. A hallmark of greatness.