CD Reviews

Various artists | Winter Is Cold

Self-released (2009)

By MICHAEL BRODEUR | April 9, 2009

4.0 Stars

As easy as it is to get caught up in the teeming swirl of our ever-generous local rock scene, it's just as easy to fall right out of the loop. Sleep on what's new in this town for even a few months and you could end up in a world of MySpace pain trying to catch up.

Nuts to that!, comes the proverbial cry from Clawjob confreres Mike Gintz and Nick Burgess, who have painstakingly assembled no fewer than 20 of the best bands currently trying to park their sketchy-looking vans around Boston. Rather than slap together a heap of quickie practice tapes, B-sides in search of A-sides, or tossed-off experiments of the sort that so often drift toward comps like this, they guide Winter Is Cold with a sharp, curatorial touch, and each song comes off like a proper ambassador of Boston's dozens of creative clusters.

Old dogs (Helms, Neptune, Ho-Ag) bust out thrilling new tricks; younger sprouts (Summerduck, Night Driving, the Measuremen) give promising signs of the variety (and tinnitus) to come. The offerings from Thunderhole, Piles, Tristan da Cunha, and Magic People glow with our town's enduring fondness for skronk and scratch; meanwhile, tender two-pieces like Brutal Love Masters and Dr. and Mrs. Van Der Trampp show a softer side more fitting to the comp's hibernatory origins. With its panoramic snapshot of this particular moment in Boston's noisier quarters, Winter Is Cold is far more than a sampler — it could very well be a staple.

Available at local shows and select shops and cafés, or digitally at www.everybodywantsaholodeck.com/winter_is_cold

Editor's Note: In a previous version of this article, the album was noted as being released on Rough Trade records when there is actually no formal label associated with the release. The correction has been made above.

Related: Here's the beef, Glacial tensions, The scene is now, More

Here's the beef
Standing underneath a leaky tarp, I looked across the courtyard and saw a guy pushing mud around with a stick. That was kind of a low point.
Glacial tensions
A few weeks ago, Summerduck — a new band led by Farhad Ebrahimi (bassist for the sadly defunct Night Rally) — walked in and turned the place into a cathedral.
The scene is now
As newspapers cede arbiter status to random bloggers with Fios and afternoons off, the function of polls like our humble offering must change out of necessity. What once was a forecast is now more like a diagnostic — it's anthropology versus tastemakery.
Boston's Best City Life 2009
There’s so much to love about Boston, it’s hard sometimes to know where to start. Traffic? Obnoxious Sox fans? Irritating students? Norway rats? Inflated rents? An inferiority complex unlike any on the Eastern seaboard?
Boston's Best Food and Drink 2009
The danger of doing an annual Best issue is that readers could well screw up the whole thing, especially when it comes to eating out. It would suck if they voted for the too-familiar national-chain eateries. Best Hamburger: McDonalds?!
Boston's Best Arts and Entertainment 2009
We are a culture-rich city — a veritable cauldron of talent and fun, and have been so since Anne Bradstreet inscribed the gates of Harvard. In Boston, the arts never stand still.
Technical difficulties
Last week, Tristan da Cunha and I brainstormed some strategies by which they might finally hit the big time. Like, getting a charismatic frontman.
Hit the deck
It's not that Celebration were ever a bad fit for 4AD. The echo-chamber organs, the tribal drumming, and the caterwauling vocals of Katrina Ford added up to a kind of desert-peyote and fringed-suede-jacket version of the more twisted stuff in the label's catalogue, from the Birthday Party to Blonde Redhead.
Feels like the first time
One thing you don't realize when you vow to support local music is that it involves sitting through the same bands month after month as they burn through drink tickets, rearrange their sets, and stall the record release.
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For more than a decade, local noise-rockers Neptune have cultivated a loyal fan base on the fringes of the Boston rock scene.
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Jaunt across the astral overpass between experimelectronic noise and garage rock and about halfway in you’ll find Thunderhole’s tastefully cacophonous onslaught.
Less

Topics: CD Reviews , Boston, Tristan da Cunha, Tristan da Cunha, More

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