Placeholder
“Nothing is Pure”
(Better Days)

A few months ago when Totally Crushed Out interviewed Coastal, we knew that they would be a band that was on the precipice of breaking big, particularly in their brand of revivalist emo. Now armed with a new name (fuck lawsuits, amirite?) and a new full-length, the rebranded Placeholder is sure to keep the momentum going.

What’s great about Placeholder is that they have their sound down pretty well. Their songs are structured incredibly well and the lyrics are nothing, if not simultaneously heart wrenching and honest. Check “What this Means,” “Resent,” and Sunny Day-esque “Written.” These songs are concise, straightforward, and above and beyond most bands’ debut records.

For me, however, the stand out track is “Stay Correct,” which recalls the Get Up Kids’ “Four Minute Mile” aesthetic. It’s catchy as it is raw. It’s chilling how brutal this song is.

Placeholder wears their influences very clearly, but that’s not a bad thing. They’re obviously not going to reinvent the wheel, and there’s something to be said about a band that just writes good fucking songs. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll give “Nothing is Pure” a shot.

— Ryan Pangilinan

Childish Gambino
“Camp”
(Glassnote)

As a fan of comedy, I can say that Donald Glover is probably one of the most unique voices out there right now. Not only is he sharp in absurdist comedy (Derrick Comedy), but even in performing in a commercial situation (30 Rock, Community), Glover has a chameleon-like ability to adapt well.

For his long-running hip-hop alter ego, Childish Gambino, Glover falls ridiculously short.

Part of the problem is that the internet fame that has given the Gambino moniker credence is based on the idea that the project is good because it’s Donald Glover. Let’s not lie to ourselves; at best, it’s mediocre.

Like so many other actor-rappers, Childish Gambino is difficult to take seriously because he apes Atmosphere and Kanye West so badly, which makes his full-length, “Camp,” incredibly difficult to listen to.

“Firefly” is more-or-less every track on the album. Glover Gambino talks about fucking chicks, being a black kid who’s not accepted, and makes social media references. With its catchy chorus, it’s pretty much the only song that you need to listen to.

Most of “Camp” is certainly ambitious, but Glover’s purposefully unrefined style is grating and annoying. Other rappers like Jim Jones and Malachi from Group Home are emcees that are rough around the edges, but are innovative enough to stand out. Glover’s rhymes, which are largely misogynistic (“I’m in her ass like sodomy” REALLY?), is something that I imagine would appeal to people who listen to Odd Future and this kind of off center, shock rap that all the kids seem to like these days, but I wouldn’t really call this shit hip-hop.

One of Glover’s lines goes, “I rap about my dick and talk about girls that are fly.” If I wanted to listen to that, I’d at least listen to Big Daddy Kane. That dude can rap.

—  Ryan Pangilinan

Blink 182
“Neighborhoods”
(Geffen/UMG)

Let’s just jump right into it: I like the new Blink 182 record.

Now I’m ready to lose scene points (is this still a thing?).

(crickets)

I have long thought that the expectation that Blink should make another record like “Cheshire Cat,” “Dude Ranch,” “Enema of the State” or even “Take Off Your Pants and Jacket” is totally unreasonable. If the band decided to revisit their “punk” roots, it would come off disingenuous and it would be the biggest lie on the planet since Clinton tried to redefine “sexual relations” and the word “is.”

From very early on in their major label career, Blink hopped from Mark Trombino to the late Jerry Finn, the venerable producer who helped the usher the band to their biggest pop hits. They are no different from Green Day, another huge band that has transcendent the “punk” aesthetic so much that there’s absolutely no going back to “Kerrplunk.” I draw this producer reference because stalwart punk bands like Descendents, NOFX, or Bad Religion, have worked with the same recording crew, by and large, and have been (for their benefit) consistent in their musical output. Blink, on the other hand, aren’t necessarily turning the tide of pop music, but certainly, they’re willing to take more chances for their ability as musicians.

Which FINALLY brings me to “Neighborhoods,” Blink’s first studio album since 2003’s self-titled record, and the first one post-reunion. It is a natural extension of their last album, as well as an amalgam of their post-breakup projects, Angels and Airwaves and +44. The album starts off with “Ghost on the Dancefloor,” the best example of the amalgam I just mentioned, and segues into “Natives,” one of two songs that sounds like “classic Blink” (“Hearts All Gone” is the other one).

As a whole, the album works. The songs are quirky enough with Travis Barker’s off-time drum parts and Tom DeLonge’s altered singing style (I have a theory that he has really bad acid reflux and basically has to relearn how to sing like himself). The best songs are the ones in which DeLonge and Mark Hoppus trade lyrics. That lends itself to the most polarizing and interesting songs on the record. There are some missteps like “Snake Charmer,” which slowed down a very strong first-half of the record. Take that song and “Hearts All Gone Interlude” out and the first part of “Neighborhoods” is really awesome.

This is a solid album, though it’s not my favorite Blink record (that would go to “Dude Ranch). I cannot fault Blink for wanting to make a weird pop record. Those guys have pretty eclectic tastes; shit, I’ve seen Hoppus rap a Public Enemy verse on stage a few times, so trying to get them to harken back to their halcyon “dick and fart” days is asking too much. Unfortunately, Blink circa 1998-2002 will have to live in memories, but this record isn’t a bad consolation.

— Ryan Pangilinan

Chuck Ragan
“Covering Ground”
(SideOneDummy)

When I had just turned 21, I went to a Hot Water Music show and drunkenly staggered over to Chuck Ragan at the bar, who was just trying to order a drink, and told him that Hot Rod Circuit was one of my favorite bands. I think he knew I meant Hot Water Music. But he laughed and replied, “Me, too, man. Me, too.”

The reason why this oft-repeated anecdote is included in this review is because it’s a good reminder of why Chuck Ragan and Hot Water Music are still popular: they’re approachable and will humor a drunk kid.

A lot of Hot Water Music’s aesthetic, and by extension Ragan’s, rests on the fact that it’s very much proletariat. It’s working class punk rock. This has become even more evident on Ragan’s latest solo effort, “Covering Ground.”

Backed with fiddles, harmonicas, and harmonies, songs like “Nomad by Fate” and “Valentine” are the kind of tunes that can bridge generations. Your dad likes Merle Haggard? Make him a mix that includes a track from this album. Of course, this isn’t a new discovery, but I like to drive that point home.

Conversely, Ragan’s songs are mellow and safe and, naturally, is the antithesis of Hot Water Music, however, when you listen to the lyrics and the melodies, it seems like the most organic direction for Ragan, whose HWM songs have always had a little bit of soul in them. This idea is prominent on “Come Around,” which begins with a short walking bassline before the rest of the instruments kick in.

If you’re a fan of his past solo work, this will certainly appeal to you and of what Ragan has released so far, it’s definitely one that I would recommend for people who haven’t been exposed to his work before.

— Ryan Pangilinan

Kevin Devine
“Between the Concrete & Clouds”
(Razor & Tie)

Kevin Devine is a social media maven. If you’ve been his Facebook friend for the last year or so, then you know that he’s been slowly leaking bits and pieces of his latest record, “Between the Concrete and Clouds,” through the site. Because of this, I’ve been trying my damndest to not click on the links and, for the most part, it’s worked pretty well. So unlike some of you who’ve already spoiled yourselves, this is my first time listening to this album.

Devine’s last record, “Brother’s Blood,” was certainly one of the more ambitious records of his career and stands to be the best, if only for how complicated it was. “Between the Concrete & Clouds” harkens back to the Kevin Devine that most people are familiar with. On songs like “Sleepwalking Through my Life” and “Wait Out the Wreck” Devine goes back to simple arrangements, though the record’s bookend “I Used to Be Someone” touches on the layered arrangement of “Brother’s Blood,” versus how the previous ended with a simple acoustic track.

It would be unfair to call this a step backward, despite the fact that it’s more of a traditional pop-rock record. Devine’s strength as a lyricist is just as sharp as ever and his ability to write great songs hasn’t lost its edge at all. If anything, it’s a good reminder that whether he’s touring with nine backing members or just himself, he certainly has a style that’s difficult to duplicate.

— Ryan Pangilinan

Geologic/Prometheus Brown & Bambu
“Prometheus Brown and Bambu Walk Into a Bar….”
(Beat Rock)

The combination of conscious Seattle-based emcee Geologic and LA’s Soul Assassin-cosigned spitter Bambu seems like a odd pairing, but it works well for this record with the joke-y title “Prometheus Brown and Bambu Walk into a Bar….”

Starting off with the funky Curtis Mayfield-inspired “Fuck Dog the Bounty Hunter,” “Walk into a Bar” launches into something that would’ve sounded great on Camp Lo’s first record. It also sets the tone for the record – funky beats backed with occasionally militant lyrics – which is surprisingly digestible considering how polarizing Blue Scholars and Native Guns have been in the past.

Key tracks like “The Bar” and “Mahalo,” are the kind of songs that would be huge hits in the hip-hop scene, so here’s to hoping that this album continues to gain traction.

The odd song out is also the record’s standout track: “Rashida Jones” is a playful loveletter to Quincy Jones’ daughter and “Parks and Rec” cast member that takes a cue from the beta stylings of groups like The Pharcyde and BoogieMonsters. It’s a bit of a joke-type song, but because of its auto-tuned hook, it’s easily the one that has the potential to be a legitimate radio hit, not that that’s what Bambu and Geo are going for.

Given the fact that there are variety of producers on this (Vitamin D, 6Fingers, and Budo among others), this is surprisingly consistent and enjoyable. It would be wrong to sleep on this record.

“Rashida Jones”

— Ryan Pangilinan

Heartsounds
“Drifter”
(Epitaph)

Totally Crushed Out loves Heartsounds, if only for the reason that they’re great at playing brash, but melodic, punk rock in the vein of many those 90s bands that I wrote off because they weren’t on Lookout. Having taken a late appreciation for groups like Digger, 88 Fingers Louie and Strung Out, Heartsounds have definitely won me over with their sophomore album (and first proper one on new label Epitaph), “Drifter.”

Like its predecessor in “Until We Surrender,” singers Ben Murray and Laura Nichols trade narrative vocals about adult experiences, instead of your typical “Oh, my girlfriend dumped me at the Serramonte Mall. Sob Sob.”

On tracks like “I Have Nobody to Betray,” “Every Second Counts” and “Don’t Talk with Your Mouth Open,” Heartsounds is able to successfully translate the kind of energy that they bring to their live performance onto its album counterpart – something that usually tends to create gaps in a band’s musical consistency.

For a segment of pop-punk fans, it may take awhile to grow on this album, but make no mistake, it’s certainly solid as fuck.

— Ryan Pangilinan

Waxahatchee
“American Weekend”
(Delta Queen)

Katie Crutchfield’s ascent to being one of the most prolific songwriters in today’s DIY punk scene continues with her second release under the Waxahatchee moniker, “American Weekend.”

Truthfully, I like the songs on this recording a bit more than on her earlier split. The songs are still stripped down and recorded to tape, but as a full-length, there’s more dynamics in the tunes. Songs like the caustic “luminary blake” are off set by poppier numbers like “be good.”

I feel like this is one of those albums that you’re going to like or not. There’s a vulnerability that Crutchfield shows on this record that, while is present in PS Eliot, resonates throughout the entire recording. It’s very bittersweet, but I feel like that’s what makes it so appealing. The genuine nature of Waxahatchee is what sets this project apart from other acoustic troubadours (yo, Chris Carrabba, I’m looking at you) and I’ll continue to listen to this while my copy of “Swiss Army Romance” was discarded to the record store’s buy back program long ago.

— Ryan Pangilinan

Alkaline Trio
“Damnesia”
(Epitaph)

Like Saves the Day and the Get Up Kids, Alkaline Trio has a storied history with their fans and while they always seem to be popular, finding anyone who freely admits to liking their post-“Good Mourning” output is few and far between.

“Damnesia” is an interesting record that definitely reflects the strengths and weaknesses of Alkaline Trio.

Admittedly, I love this band, even their newer stuff, however, I feel like their biggest downfall – basically writing the same chord progressions over and over again – is also their biggest asset. There’s a familiarity to Matt Skiba’s songwriting and while he’s no Kenny Babyface Edmonds, he knows what works in terms of melody, which is why I’m always confused as to find out why people don’t like the Trio’s latter-era releases.

Back to the album, which is essentially a greatest hits compilation, but done in an acoustic style. Since the induction of Derek Grant, the band’s songs have a gloss to them, which works for trying to vary these old tunes stylistically.

The album also contains a couple new songs, but it’s “Olde English 800” that feels most like an old Alkaline Trio song. It’s about drinking and, therefore, it’s awesome.

I really like this album. It gives a bit of a different dynamic to the songs and it’s actually made me appreciate the last two albums a bit more. It’s worth a purchase whether you’re an old fan or if you’ve only heard of them because they were on “The Hills.”

— Ryan Pangilinan

Taking Back Sunday
“Taking Back Sunday”
(WB)

I don’t know too many people who are still into this band. Most former fans I know walked away after the “classic line-up” imploded following the popularity of their debut record, “Tell All Your Friends.” Whatever goodwill they had gained with the addition of Breaking Pangaea/Terrible Things frontman Fred Mascharino and session bassist Matt Rubano fell apart when Mascharino left and TBS released the underwhelming “New Again” album.

Now back with OG members, John Nolan and Shaun Cooper, Taking Back Sunday tries to capture lightning in a bottle again with their fourth effort, a self-titled record.

If people are waiting for “Tell All Your Friends Pt.2,” this record certainly isn’t it. If anything, it’s more of a weird rock record with pop elements. It’s definitely as “heavy” and caustic as a band like Taking Back Sunday can get, but it’s not redefining the genre. In fact, I would expect kids to react to this in the way that they may have reacted to Brand New’s “Daisy” — with dismay due to the fact that they didn’t write another easily digestible record.

There’s some nods to the melodic talent of the band in songs like “Since You’re Gone” and “Faith (When I Let You Down).” And uptempo songs like “El Paso” and “It Doesn’t Feel like Falling” are strong enough to pique interest in “Self-Titled,” yet yawn-inducing tunes like “Sad Savior” and “Money (Let it Go)” make it drag.

There’s a lot in value in Taking Back Sunday’s latest/older configuration and the off-time rhythms that Nolan and Cooper brought to Straylight Run, their interim band, are present, but it’s not too overwhelming.

“Taking Back Sunday” is a slow-burning album and one that can get better the more you listen to it, but it is worlds away from the angst of what people may be expecting.

— Ryan Pangilinan