Dan Deacon performs in Chicago at Logan Square Auditorium. Photo by author.

What I experienced at Logan Square Auditorium was pure, unadulterated madness. I knew that this concert was going to be crazy, given my previous experience at Lollapalooza with Dan Deacon, but I was wholly unprepared for what I went through this time around. A simple rave, this most certainly was not.

Much of the insanity resulted from the fact that, by some miracle, this concert was an all ages event. There are many privileges that people under 18 should be allowed to enjoy. Going to this concert though, should not be one of them. It was a perfect lesson in what not to do as an audience member. These drunk and drugged teens started thrashing around before the opening acts even took the stage. Then, in an even weirder display, they started breaking apart glow sticks to paint their bodies with the neon substance. A couple of guys were trying to draw satanic pentagrams on themselves. Another was idiotically trying to color his own tongue, disregarding the potential safety hazards. I can’t count the number of times that the stuff got flung into my face. A friend of mine who came with me was on the verge of starting a fight after being body-slammed innumerable times. I know it was Halloween, but that doesn’t excuse the spectators from their simply atrocious etiquette.

I know I’m making the event sound like a shit-show, so far. And it was. But it was a pretty fun one. In terms of the music itself, I found the concert to actually be fairly sub par. The two opening acts, Nuclear Power Plants and some other group whose name I couldn’t get, played some messy, repetitive stuff that I couldn’t get into. I obviously enjoyed Dan Deacon’s music a lot more, but even then, his set list wasn’t exactly a crowd-pleaser. He played some stuff that isn’t on any of his albums, and a lot more fuzzed-out “noise” material. What he did have going for him was awesome crowd interaction and stage presence. True to his style, Deacon got the audience involved with some ridiculous tasks, including an incomprehensible interpretive dance, and the worst dance-off of all time. In between the games was some good, old-fashioned moshing. For just a little while, people really didn’t care about how they looked, hyper-actively bouncing up and down and flailing their bodies in whatever way they felt like as Deacon chipmunk-shrieked into his microphone.

It’s hard to describe, but your state of consciousness is somewhat altered during a Dan Deacon set, with no need of assistance from hallucinogens. Collectively, the audience moshed into one heaping mass of ecstasy, temporarily liberated from the universe of rationality outside the venue. In fact, I personally found this to be less of a concert, and more of a general, multifaceted experience. As opposed to being the main draw, the music arguably takes a backseat to the moshing. After a while, the man could have started blasting out anything, and the crowd would still probably be getting crazy, just to keep the crazy going.

So was the concert worth it? Was it worth putting up with the deranged kids, body-slamming and flying glow stick liquid? I’d have to give a resounding “hell yes.” Even if you don’t quite gel with Deacon’s music, it’s nice to be in an atmosphere where you’re free to spazz out without having to worry about appearances. So, if you get a chance to see Dan Deacon, don’t stay home and pass up an awesome chance to let loose unless you’re absolutely claustrophobic. I’d gladly go through that awesome mess again.

Sisters Tegan and Sara step it up in Sainthood, the duo’s sixth release. Photo courtesy of the band website.

Tegan and Sara isn’t the same band you used to know. Unless you’re a devoted fan or a frequent Stereogum visitor, the last you probably heard of them was almost six years ago when the Canadian twin set made a minor dent in alternative radio with the indie rock sing-a-long “Walking With A Ghost” off their 2004 breakthrough, So Jealous. But after another studio album and multiple headlining tours under their belts, Tegan and Sara have stepped up their sound and songwriting for their sixth album, Sainthood, co-produced by Death Cab For Cutie guitarist Chris Walla, who also produced the band’s last album, 2007’s The Con.

While The Con incorporated home-recorded demos from the sisters’ isolated songwriting sessions on their respective coasts (Tegan in Vancouver, Sara in Montreal), the approach also generated a more polarized sound: the album’s songs mostly alternated between Tegan’s rapid-fire power pop and Sara’s moodier, intricate compositions. With Sainthood, however, the band avoided following in the footsteps of OutKast’s Speakerboxxx/The Love Below and opted for a live band approach to recording, rehearsing for several hours a day before recording the songs. The result is a tighter, more aggressive body of work, evident in the lead single “Hell,” one of three songs co-written with AFI’s bassist Hunter Burgan. “Hell” combines the edge of Paramore with the band’s endearing take on love and heartbreak.

Recording together live instead of from their respective homes succeeded in smoothing out some of that songwriting polarization. Those familiar with the band’s prior catalog will likely recognize which sister wrote which song, but cuts like “Sentimental Tune,” a simple, guitar-driven Sara song that could just as easily been written by Tegan will make it harder for new fans to tell their music apart. Seemingly symbolic of this cohesion is “Paperback Head,” the only song so far to have writing duties split evenly among the two of them.

That’s not to say Tegan and Sara have abandoned what makes them unique — Tegan still churns out songs like “Northshore,” a two minute power chord-fest complete with addictive, stream-of-consciousness lyrics, while Sara still crafts intricate, quirky pop songs, such as the piano-driven and single-worthy “Alligator.” The sisters’ trademark vocal harmonies are also just as prevalent as ever, but are less necessary than before. Tegan’s voice is strong enough to carry the weight of most of her tunes completely solo, like on the pounding “Don’t Rush,” while Sara’s layered vocals, more of an acquired taste than her sister’s, can still run thin on songs like album highlight “On Directing.”

Unlike The Con, whose lyrical content focused on anxious, desperate pleas to change the minds of unrequited lovers, Sainthood takes a calmer, more calculated approach to practicing perfection to win over hearts. While The Con’s final song “Call It Off” ended the album on a defeated note with lines like “Maybe I could have been something you’d be good at,” Sainthood closes with some optimism. “Someday” features MGMT-esque synthesizers and a free-form delivery that weaves hopeful determination into similar lyrics like “Might do something I’ll be proud of someday / Mark my words, I might be something someday.” They may not be saints yet, but with an album like Sainthood, they’ve already done something to be proud of.

To begin our countdown to the new musical year, I will be exploring ten 2009 releases by looking in-depth into their background, influences and personal evolution. The next album in this series is Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix by Phoenix.

You may have heard of them if:

• You watch Entourage. (“Lisztomania” plays at the end of this last season finale.)
• You watch SNL. (They were the musical guest in April.)
• You watch late night TV. (They’ve graced Jimmy Kimmel and Jimmy Fallon with “Lisztomania” and David Letterman and Conan O’Brien with “1901″.)
• You watch Gossip Girl. (The DJ played “1901” at Georgina’s rooftop party in The Freshmen and “1901” also plays in the Sonic Youth episode.)
• You watch Royal Pains. (“Lisztomania” is the intro song in an episode of RP’s debut season.)
• You watch Cougar Town. (“Lisztomania” can be heard during the season premiere.)
• You are a 2010 Cadillac SRX enthusiast. (“1901” is the background track for its current commercial.)
• You are a movie trailer enthusiast. (“Lisztomania” and “1901” were featured in trailers for Where the Wilds Things Are and New York, I Love You, respectively.)
• You are really into anything French. (They are, in fact, from Versailles)
• You read any music publication. (Everyone’s crazy about them.)

You may like them if you like: Vampire Weekend, MGMT, Passion Pit, Animal Collective, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Grizzly Bear, Fleet Foxes, pop-culture, French guys, etc.

Fresh off Rolling Stone’s Hot List, Phoenix has quickly gone from underground indie to super pop breakthrough of the year. The four frenchmen got their start doing a back up mix for Air and have made five kick-ass albums (one being their live album) since.

Comprised of Thomas Mars (vocals), Deck D’Arcy (bass), Laurent Brancowitz (guitar) and Christian Mazzalai (guitar), Phoenix has been slowly making their way to wide international recognition since 2000. With United creeping into the French charts in 2000 and their sophomore album Alphabetical dominating Norwegian and Swedish charts in 2004, this year, they’ve successfully infiltrated the charts in over ten countries, reaching the top 25 in six.

One of Phoenix’s greatest talents is how natural they make every transition. You can notice the change from verse to chorus, song to song and album to album, but it sounds like a perfectly natural course of action. They make good music sound easy and carefree, which is what great pop should do. They’ve perfected this art with Wolfgang Amaedus Phoenix and clearly broken through the international barrier and won the hearts and minds of a U.S. audience.

The album bounds forth energetically with the ball of energy that is “Lisztomania.” With a bouncy backbeat and playful chords, the song tears a page out of a history book with a reference to renown musician and teacher, Franz Liszt. Through this clever comparison, Mars takes us through the thrill of playing a concert and being adored, (“think less but see it grow, like a riot, like a riot, oh!”) if only for a few minutes.

“1901” continues the history lesson with a dedication to 19th century France. With a little more edge to it than the opener, “1901” plays up the synth as we realize “it’s not what you say, what you say is way too complicated.” The two singles are really complimentary in some respects as the clear stand out tracks of the album. But that’s not to say the other eight tracks aren’t rock your socks poptacular.

The album takes a dream-like turn with “Fences,” which is like an homage to the quartet’s Air days, and continues the approach to the two part instrumental interlude, “Love Like a Sunset.”

As you embark into the second half of the album, the boys play a little love tune about a lost love that’s really not all that depressing. They power on into “Rome,” where the band wails on as Mars claims “always and forevermore I call to say I’m on the way” as the ashes fall, fall, fall.

Then we reach “Countdown,” the only true heartbreaker of the album. Once you hear the question, “Do you remember when 21 years was old?” you can’t help but feel the pangs of nostalgia creep up inside you. But the fiery symbols and Mars’ dying to be sincere lyrics swear it’s “better than it looks.”

Next comes a fairly bouncy break up song with a quick backbeat simply titled “Girlfriend” which sounds more optimistic than melancholy. And for the finale, “Armistice” explores the compromise of “lovers in a rush” which seems to be okay to all parties involved.

Phoenix cooks up vicarious living and nostalgia and conjures up images of sunsets and childhood into a 36 minute pot of energetic beats and quirky chords. Our new masters of pop craftsmanship can make any situation sound like a good time and in these tough times, that’s exactly what we need.

Northwestern’s student-run radio station WNUR will be holding a kickoff concert featuring two prominent local bands this Sunday on Norris East Lawn.

WNUR is the largest student-run station in the country, according to WNUR representatives. The station sets itself apart by aiming to play music that is underrepresented by most outlets, seating more and more independent music each year.

“We try to play music that if we weren’t playing it, you wouldn’t hear it anywhere else,” says Doug Kaplan, a Communication junior and general manager of WNUR.

This kickoff concert is the first one for WNUR in recent years and will hopefully increase awareness of the station.

“We’re better known in the community than in the school, so we’re just [trying] to gain awareness for WNUR and have fun,” Kaplan says.

The concert will also work to help integrate new DJs into the station and get them excited about the year to come. Prepping a concert is a side of the radio station that’s different from the day-to-day schedule of shows.

“It’s a different aspect of getting to work with a radio station,” says Kate Watson, a Weinberg junior and the phonathon director for WNUR. “Not just doing your own show, but doing promotions and planning events.”

This year’s concert features two local bands, Owen and Joan of Arc. The bands individually feature the Kinsella brothers, Mike and Tim respectively, who have been active and influential members of the Chicago music scene since the mid-’90s. The Kinsellas have been playing in bands together for years: Cap’n Owl, Joan of Arc and Owls, to name a few.

Owen, Mike Kinsella’s solo project, will take the stage at 3 p.m. Listeners can expect a mellow, folk-based sound with plenty of acoustics. Mike’s softer sound might segue oddly into Joan of Arc’s harsher, experimental indie rock. Tim Kinsella is Joan of Arc’s only permanent member. Since the band is not a very active project, it has an elastic, continually shifting 11-person lineup. People can expect around five or six performers for Sunday.

“They’re really important local bands that we’ve been playing on WNUR for years,” Kaplan said. “They’re bands we really like, that are fun and that are popular in Chicago.”

The concert will be broadcast live on WNUR, 89.3 FM or streamed online. In case of rain or unseasonably cold temperature, the concert will be moved to the Louis Room. Students interested in WNUR should contact the general manager at gm@wnur.org.

“I look better sweaty,” said Jeff Pezzati, of local punk band Naked Raygun.  The lead singer was remarking on a rumor that heavy metal bands allow photographers to take pictures only during the first songs of concerts, before the artists begin to sweat.  Pezzati then invited the concert photographers to take pictures as long as they pleased.  They did not, however, take the singer up on his offer, noticing the mosh pit of young fans beginning to form around them.

Naked Raygun headlined the third night of the fifth annual Riot Fest punk festival at Metro on Friday.  Riot Fest was started in 2005, by Mike Petryshyn, a punk fan who set out to create a show that he would want to attend.  For its fifth year, the festival featured concerts at the Congress Theater, Metro, Subterranean, Beat Kitchen, Cobra Lounge and Liars Club from Wednesday to Sunday.

The show started slow, with opening acts Wax and No Empathy playing to a small crowd. This small crowd consisted of mostly fans over 30, but was sprinkled with the occasional young punk, complete with jean jacket and torn jeans.  The younger audience members looked like the older fans must have back in the ’80s and ’90s, before giving up the punk aesthetic for the middle-aged-professional look they chose now.  These punks of the past preferred the balcony and back of the main floor, while the new guard skanked, shoved, and crowd surfed their way to the front as Metro filled up.  By the time the third opening act, a reunited Rights of the Accused, took the stage, the sold-out show was packed.

Rights of the Accused can be best described as a punk rock party band.  Their music was fast, energetic and straight to the point, without much of anything else in between.  Lead singer Mike O’Connell, head shaved, wearing a shiny silver suit complete with blue fringe, was reminiscent of Gary Glitter (of Rock and Roll Part II fame).  O’Connell mentioned his fashion resemblance to Mr. Glitter a number of times during their set.  The band was also joined on stage by two men, one in a banana suit and the other dressed as a gorilla, who would occasionally hold up signs with “Hey!” written on them.

After the entertaining, but overall musically uninspiring set from ROTA, Naked Raygun took the stage.  Formed in 1980, it was one of the first bands to combine hardcore punk with melodic songwriting, a blend which was very present in their Riot Fest performance, which featured prominent lead guitar lines from guitarist Bill Stephens.  The performance had very few frills.  There were no costumes, and when the band wasn’t playing, Pezzati spoke casually with the crowd.  But they didn’t need costumes.  Naked Raygun simply played their well written, honest songs, including two new previously unreleased tracks, much to the audience’s delight.  Naked Raygun is highly regarded in the Chicago punk world, and singer Pezzati and original guitarist Santiago Durango were also members of Northwestern alum Steve Albini’s influential Chicago band, Big Black.  The band, after going through a number of lineup changes, broke up in 1992, but reunited for the 2006 Riotfest, and now employs festival founder Petryshyn as manager.

Naked Raygun’s performance on Friday not only proved the band’s strong influence on Chicago punk, but proved that it had not faded almost 30 years later.  Riot Fest too is only gaining in popularity.  This year’s festival featured national acts NOFX, Alkaline Trio and the Butthole Surfers.  Another Riot Fest was to be held in Los Angeles too, but was postponed until spring of 2010 due to Petryshyn’s health problems.

But the Naked Raygun was no doubt the star of the Metro’s concert on Friday.  Besides putting on a tight, well-performed show, they represented an often unseen side of punk rock.  The four members of Naked Raygun were not the intimidating, foul smelling stereotypes of the artists associated with the term “punk.”  They didn’t have green mohawks.  Their arms were not lined with track marks from Heroin abuse.  They just seemed like nice guys.  A young teenage girl and a young boy sat off to the side of the stage with their mother, obviously the family of one of the band members.  Singer Pezzati just seemed gracious to be on stage.  The Naked Raygun were just nice guys.  Nice guys that enjoyed playing their loud music.

At first listen, Michael Bublé’s new album, Crazy Love, is just like all the others: pop and jazz standards, with a few guest artists. His smooth and gentle baritone voice blends with each fairly-known song, adding some new hums and riffs, but always keeping the same vocal timbre. But it still sounds like elevator music. The brass and strings are well blended with each other and understated enough that it can feel more like a karaoke soundtrack but don’t give anything really special. The drum set stays at the same allegro stereotypical Broadway beat. The piano plays chords. Yet like his other albums, it takes me a few listens to be completely hooked — which, don’t worry, I am now.

Bublé takes a grab at country (“Heartache Tonight”), Nat King Cole (“Stardust”) and Dean Martin (“You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You”), with some new arrangements (such as a Hans Zimmer feel for “Cry Me a River,” a James Bond feel for “Georgia on My Mind”, and a 1960s pop feel for “Some Kind of Wonderful”) that give each song a new “twist,” but it’s not that twisted. He sings with guest singers, such Naturally 7, Ron Sexsmith and, one of my favorites, Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings. Like his other songs, it doesn’t sound like he works with the band — more just like singing along. His song choices create an eclectic song playlist that is novel, using standards that haven’t been seen in the charts lately.

Throughout, he bounces from sounding like Frank Sinatra, Josh Groban, Harry Connick Jr., Mel Tormé (vocally and because of song arrangements), Ella Fitzgerald — with minimal scatting — and then Michael Bublé (for his non-covers). He also stays relatively safe with his song choices, such as starting the CD with a slightly-forgotten classic, “Cry Me a River” that sounds very similar to the first on his last CD, “Feeling Good.”

One of the two original and non-cover songs, “Haven’t Met You Yet,” I predict will be the next “Everything,” and will soon be the new popular songs across a cappella groups. Like “Everything,” it’s cute, poppy, a lot of fun and really nice to listen to, even though it initially sounds like a song from High School Musical. It’s less like the elevator music, being more original with a newer sound — with an homage to the Beatles (“Love, Love, Love” and a marching band interlude) — than the others that makes his CD worthy.

At least he’s trying with different sounds and good repertoire. I’m still making the $10 dent in my iTunes account.

Rating: A-

Portugal. The Man performed at Schubas Tavern Oct. 11. Photo by author.

When I went into Schubas Tavern on Oct. 11, I knew next to nothing about Drug Rug, Hockey or even the headlining act, Portugal. The Man. By the time I finally left the venue, I came away with three more bands I’ll be sure to follow religiously.

Drug Rug, out of Massachusetts, kicked off the show with a melodic grouping of bluesy songs. Hockey, out of Oregon, followed, upping the ante with a barrage of infectious new wave dance that left a pleasantly surprised audience clamoring for more. And just when I thought the concert couldn’t get any better, Portugal. The Man, hailing from infamous Wasilla, Alaska, made their entrance, guitars ablaze.

I usually don’t like it when bands take up time at a show for extended “audience interaction,” which usually consists of trivial, drawn-out small talk. Just play the damn music. And that is exactly what Portugal. The Man did over the course of an animated hour. Beginning with a discordant assault on the ears the captured the lounging audience’s attention, reducing what was once a lucid and well-spoken collection of people into a mob of illogical, thrashing heads. Helped by a brilliant, seizure-inducing lighting setup and the sick acoustics at Schubas, Portugal. The Man’s avant-garde take on classic rock instantaneously arrested my senses.

I had previously only heard one of the songs they played, “People Say,” so I couldn’t sing along much, which usually is a killer for me in terms of concert enjoyment. But in this case, it didn’t matter at all. With John Baldwin Gourley’s falsetto wailing resonating through the air, backed by some thrilling instrumentation and improvisation, I’m going to go out on a wild limb that any enthusiast of rock would’ve had a dandy time that night. I’m frankly amazed the band brought as much energy and oomph as they did. As they were coming right off a show the previous night, I was expecting somewhat of a downer, but they blew away all my expectations. When they finally left after their encore, flooded with sweat, the audience, myself included, deservingly gave them a rousing ovation, full of “fuck yeah!”s, for their exhausting performance.

By any means, go see Portugal. The Man live when you have the opportunity. If this can be taken as a measure of quality, my neck is still sore from all the headbanging I did that night.

Released: September 29, 2009

Grade: B+

Full disclosure: I have always been a rabid Alice in Chains fan. But I have to admit, I wanted to hate this CD. A new release after lead singer Layne Staley’s death didn’t seem right to me. However, Black Gives Way To Blue has seriously grown on me, and I urge anyone who is a fan of the band or of the genre to give it a try.

No band blends painful, tortured lyrics together with grungy, distorted riffs in quite the same way as Alice in Chains. With lyrics like, “I want you to kill me, and dig me under/I want to live no more” from 1992’s “Dirt,” Alice in Chains seems like another whiny emo band; very cliché now over 15 years later. But strangely enough, the band seems to be the one of only ones that can pull off such depressing lyrics without the music sounding hokey.

Alice in Chains was started in Seattle in 1987 by lead singer Layne Staley and guitarist Jerry Cantrell. Two of their albums topped the Billboard charts, 1994’s Jar of Flies and 1995’s Alice in Chains. They have had 11 top ten songs, and six Grammy nominations. Along with Nirvana, Soundgarden, and Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains was one of the frontrunners of the grunge scene, and one of the most successful rock bands in the 1990s. You might know them from songs such as “Them Bones” and “Man In The Box,” which can be heard on Guitar Hero and Rockband today.

That being said, Alice in Chains is no longer the same raw, disturbed band that it was in the mid-90s. Tragically, lead singer Layne Staley died of an overdose spurred by his depression in 2002. Without Staley, the band went on hiatus for three years, and then reunited with new lead singer William Duvall. Black Gives Way To Blue is the band’s first studio album in 14 years.

With new singer Duvall, the band has a completely new sound. While still pulling from its grunge and heavy metal roots, the sound is more polished. Black Gives Way To Blue lacks the pure emotion that Layne Staley’s vocals brought, but yet it brings something completely new.

It’s easier to compare the new CD to Jerry Cantrell’s solo album, Degradation Trip. Both are full of the powerful riffs and dramatic lyrics that Cantrell has always written, but both seem to be longing for Staley. Appropriate, since both mourn the death of the late singer in many of the tracks. In addition to familiar riffs, Cantrell takes lead vocals on many songs in Black Gives Way To Blue, which helps the sound seem more familiar to old fans.

Duvall’s strength is also his weakness: he sounds a bit like Staley. He has the same vocal power and amazing vibrato that Staley possessed, but he lacks the fierce pain that always came through in Staley’s songs. However, he sounds great in concert on all of the old tracks, and blends in well with the remaining core members of Alice in Chains: Sean Kinney, Mike Inez and Jerry Cantrell. The core trio is perhaps what makes this dynamic work: Alice in Chains is similar enough to appease old fans, but Duvall’s fresh blood gives the band appeal to new fans as well, and shakes up the sound. The result? An album that sounds familiar, yet nothing like any album the band has put out before.

The opening track “All Secrets Known” really grabs the listener in and uses the same distorted but beautiful melodies that Jerry Cantrell is known for. Crooning, “There’s no going back to the place we started from,” Cantrell brings up the death of Staley and lets fans know that it’s “time to start living” by playing again without him. The single, “Check My Brain,” initially sounds a little generic. But I urge listeners to revisit it. It is so catchy; it will definitely grow on you. “A Looking In View” is one of the strongest tracks on the album. At over seven minutes, it is a grunge epic with extremely heavy riffs and strong drum beats. “When The Sun Rose Again” is reminiscent of Jar of Flies, combining melancholy lyrics with beautiful, somewhat sad melodies. Both of these tracks sound most like the old Alice in Chains, so old fans will approve. The closing track “Black Gives Way To Blue” is the slowest track on the album. The chorus of “Lay down, black gives way to blue/Lay down, I’ll remember you” seems a perfect way to pay tribute to the late Staley, and to end the album.

Layne Staley was the epitome of a tortured artist, and it’s fair to say Alice in Chains will never sound quite the same without him. However, Black Gives Way To Blue soars despite his absence.

Nearing 6 p.m. Saturday night, a mass of flannel, tight jeans and neon-tipped mohawks swarms around the metal barrier in Chicago’s Congress Theater. Screams of “Fuck You” and “I Hate My Life” echo throughout the massive room, suggesting that the stereotypical angry attitude of punk kids is a reality, but in fact they’re simply shouting Youth Brigade song titles. As the band members start playing, the audience erupts in cheers. From the response of the young crowd, not to mention the name of the band, you might think that a bunch of 20-somethings just hit the stage. But in reality, these guys are still very active in the punk scene now well into their 40s.

So who are these guys? From Los Angeles, California, Shawn and Adam Stern are not only musicians, but also businessmen. As a way to show a more positive take on the punk scene, the Stern brothers started their own record label in 1981, called BYO Records (for Better Youth Organization), at the tender ages of 19 and 20. In addition to BYO, the brothers also ran the Godzilla Nightclub, which housed both local and national punk acts.

The Stern brothers’ goal was to get all of the punks involved in an ethic of “do it yourself”, or DIY. A Gandhi-like ideal, the point of DIY is simple: No one is going to change the world for you, so you have to do it yourself.

Youth Brigade performed this past weekend as a part of Riot Fest, a three-day punk rock festival in multiple venues across Chicago. In addition to their set, Youth Brigade also screened a film called Let Them Know, which celebrates the birth of BYO Records and the band that has influenced so many others to this day.

Shawn Stern, the lead vocalist and founding member of Youth Brigade and BYO, sat down with us to discuss the film and the release of the band’s new box set, which celebrates the more than 25 years of influence that the band has had on the punk scene

Tell us about the box set. What is in it, and why did you choose to release it?

Well, it was our 25-year anniversary coming up (this was a few years ago), and me and my brother were talking [about what we should do]. We started the label [BYO Records] with a compilation and we thought, “Let’s do a compilation; that’s a great idea.” Bands tend to not want to give you brand-new songs, even though that would be ideal, so we said, let’s ask everybody to cover a song from our catalog — it’s gotta be, I don’t know, a thousand songs, right? Then of course all labels these days are faced with the problem [...] of everybody’s downloading music, so labels are kind of obsolete. And we thought, what could we do to try and make something that kids can’t download, make it something new. And then we thought, “Let’s make it a book. A coffee table book, with two LPs shoved inside.”

What is it like being in a literal band of brothers?

(Laughs) Well, it’s just me and Mark now because Adam’s busy doing stuff. He went to Parsons, he’s a really good illustrator. But that was back in the 80s, and then he started learning all of the computer stuff, and so that’s what he does now, computer CGI. He worked on that movie, Pan’s Labyrinth, and that HBO John Adams special that they won an Emmy for.

The film Let Them Know was screened as a part of Riot Fest this weekend. Tell us about the film and what you hope to accomplish with it.

We saw films and books over the last 15 years and they all tend to focus on London and New York. Everyone ignores LA, but the fact is, LA has had the largest punk rock scene since the 80s. Most films are made by fans, and that’s great, but they weren’t there, you know, they weren’t a part of the band. So we came up with the idea of this documentary on the label. We’re good friends with Bouncing Souls, we just did 12 shows with them in Canada, and they did one, and the guys who made it did a really good job, so we started talking about it with them.

What is punk to you?

Punk is just about thinking for yourself and looking around the world and seeing what’s wrong with it, and trying to change things. Back when we started, DIY (do it yourself) wasn’t a term, we just did it. We didn’t think about it. Punk isn’t just a fashion statement, it’s a way of living, and trying to change the world around you.

You guys grew up in California. How did the atmosphere there impact the kind of music you make?

We were surfers. We learned how to surf when we were 12 or 13 years old. Surfing has always had such a rebel culture connected to it, and I think that’s what influenced us. You know, skateboarding came out of surfing, and there’s this culture of rebellion connected with that today.

You have been involved in the punk scene for about three decades. How do you feel about that?

Lucky that I’m still able to do this and that people are still interested. I never thought I’d still be doing this into my 30s and 40s.

How has music changed since you started?

It’s comparing apples and oranges. It’s hard because it seems like everything’s been done before. It’s amazing, the quality. Back then no one had any piercings or crazy hair, and now everyone does. There weren’t very many bands, but they were all good. Now you have thousands of bands, but they all sound generic. But a lot of that has to do with electronic recording. Everyone can do it, but just because you can doesn’t mean you should. I find punk to be more intelligent music; it has a message behind it, not like all the generic pop out there.

Youth Brigade was one of the first bands to break into the European underground music scene. How does the concert atmosphere compare between Europe and the United States?

Well, they drink a lot more (laughs). It’s not so much about Europe as a whole, because every country is different there. But overall, it’s just so much more laid back in Europe. There’s too much police shit here.

Does Youth Brigade have any plans or goals for the future?

Our plans are always to go out and play shows in cities where we can surf. Other than that, hopefully I can write some new music. We’re going to come out with a new record soon, ‘cause it’s been a long fucking time.

What do you hope fans get from Youth Brigade and other bands on the BYO label?

I hope they have a good time, because that’s always important. But if you feel inspired listening to our music, if you feel like you can change things that you see wrong in the world, then I think we’ve accomplished what we’re trying to do.

John Legend performed at the Welsh-Ryan Arena Friday night in, according to group representatives, the most-attended concert in A&O Productions history. With more than 4,000 attendees, Legend’s concert, held in celebration of new Northwestern University President Morton Schapiro’s inauguration, beat out the attendance of Kanye West’s campus performance in 2005.

Legend’s younger brother Vaughn Anthony opened the show with a four-song set. Dressed in baggy jeans and adorned with tattoos and bling, Anthony looked more like a rap star than a Legend sibling. But the family relation was clearly evident in their vocal similarities in songs like the reggae-influenced “She Love Me Not.” While the audience generally embraced his performance, Anthony didn’t fully connect with the audience –- or at least the female portion of it –- until he took off his shirt D’Angelo-style and belted out his last song, “Yell.”

Opening the show with a rendition of Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song,” Legend emerged in jeans and a leather jacket from the back of the arena and sang in the middle of the floor seating. Amid the flashing cameras of eager Northwestern students, Legend reached out to the audience before jumping back on stage and right into “Used to Love U,” a song off of his debut album, 2004’s Get Lifted.

“It’s good to be here for the first time,” he later told the crowd between songs. “It’s good to be back in the Chicago area, one of my favorite places in the world. I’m glad to know [we have] some John Legend fans at Northwestern.”

For an artist whose breakthrough music video consisted mostly of him sitting at a piano, Legend spends a lot of time up and about. Supported by a nine-piece backing band, most of Legend’s performance consisted of upbeat numbers like the cheater’s anthem “Alright” and the hip hop-influenced “I Can Change,” with Legend singing center stage. The first time Legend sat at the piano for the entire duration of a song happened six songs into his set with “Refuge (When It’s Cold Outside),” and it wasn’t an entirely solo effort — Legend’s band kicked in by the chorus.

In the middle of the show, after Legend played some of his slower songs like “Live It Up” and the ballad “Again” — which prompted a handful of students to wave their lighters, cell phones, and iPhones completed with simulated lighter app in the air — the energy of the set started to decline. But just before Legend could lose too much momentum, he’d quickly turn out more upbeat numbers, like “Slow Dance,” from his sophomore release, 2006’s Once Again.

Before his performance of “Slow Dance,” Legend announced, “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” a declaration that prompted a sea of hands of eager female volunteers to pop in the front rows of the floor seating. Legend chose to pull Weinberg senior Evelyn Carter out of the crowd to slow dance with him on stage.

“I was incredibly excited that he picked me,” Carter said. “In a word, it felt absolutely amazing. I’m a huge fan of his and I came to the concert with the goal of getting in the front row and on stage, and I actually accomplished both. I’m still in shock over the entire experience.”

But other than leading audience members in arena-wide hand-clapping and his minimal hip gyrations, Legend isn’t much of a dancer. Yet what his stage sauntering lacks in style, he makes up for in stage presence: During the last song of his set before his encore, the bouncy, André 3000-assisted “Green Light” off his most recent album Evolver, Legend took off his shirt to reveal a white wife-beater and climbed down into the audience to sing a few lines of Snoop Dogg’s “Sensual Seduction” before returning to the stage and standing on top of his piano for the song’s climax.

During his encore, Legend re-emerged in a new suit and performed his most famous song, “Ordinary People,” by himself at the piano. With the band absent from the stage, it was the only truly solo moment for Legend in the entire evening, and it was also one of the more interactive ones, as Legend instructed the crowd to sing along and finish some of the song’s lyrics.

Yet despite the enthralled audience, “Ordinary People” may have been the only songs students could sing along to.

SESP sophomore Alexis Harrell was one of many students who weren’t familiar with the entirety of Legend’s catalog. “I knew a couple of his songs and I loved them, so I was really excited for the concert,” she said. “Even though I didn’t know some of the songs, he was just a great performer. Anytime he was on the piano was great, even if I didn’t know the song.”

Weinberg senior Carolyn Goldschmidt, the director of concerts for A&O, said this broad appeal was one of the main reasons for booking Legend.

“Everybody thought that he was a really accessible artist,” she said. “And to have a show of this magnitude where we wanted half the student body, you need to get an artist that’s accessible like that.”

Northwestern is not without its Legend fans, however. Weinberg sophomore Ramu Annamalai, a self-described “huge” fan of John Legend, was impressed with the authenticity of Legend’s live show.

“He’s an amazing singer,” he said. “He sings just as well live as he does in the studio.”

A postshow sit-down with John Legend

You have almost a million and a half followers on Twitter. Do you like connecting with fans in that way?

I love it. It’s fun to get a chance to interact and get to know fans, and I think they get to know me better as well.

So your label doesn’t force you to do it?

My management was the first people to encourage me. I wasn’t sure if Twitter was just a silly passing fad and whether it was something I wanted to be a part of. But clearly it has taken root and now that I started doing it, I enjoy it. It gives me a little soapbox whenever I have something to say. It’s fun.

In your live show, you spend a lot of time on stage and not behind the piano. Do you think people are surprised by that?

Sometimes. I’ve been touring for five years now, so some people have seen quite a few shows and they know that I mix it up a bit. My first big song was “Ordinary People,” so people think of me as a piano guy, which I am, but I’ve always been splitting time between sitting at the piano and standing up and interacting with the crowd. I enjoy that because I want to look in people’s eyes and get closer to them and I can’t do all that from the piano.

You’re from Ohio, but you’ve worked with a lot of Chicago artists like Kanye and Common. Does it feel like a second home?

It absolutely does. I love being here. I’ve been playing here for quite a while now. This is the first city that really embraced me outside of New York and my hometown and Philadelphia. Those are places I lived, but I never lived in Chicago. This is the first place I didn’t live in that really embraced me. So I have a lot of love here, I have a lot of friends here. This summer we sold the most tickets here in Chicago when we did our two shows at the Ravinia, more than any other market around the world. So, a lot of love here.

So you’re bummed about the Olympics?

Yeah I was rooting for the Olympics to come here, but you can’t be that mad at [the games] going to Rio. I was definitely rooting for the Olympics to come here, I did an interview on behalf of the organizers and I was hoping it would come here because I love the city and I thought it would be great for the city, but it didn’t. South America’s getting their first Olympics, which I think is cool in a way as well.

I was counting up the songs during the show. How do you manage to make it through such a jam-packed set?

There’s a lot. We don’t play full songs, for most of the things we do little segments of each things. We’ve found we want to give people a taste of all their favorites and keep the show moving. It’s fun doing it that way.

Does it feel weird knowing you’re playing a show for all Northwestern students?

You never know what to expect because you never know how many fans you have at each school. Usually when I come to Chicago, I’ll have some students there, but I’ll have people from a wide spectrum coming. But it’s different coming from this narrow spectrum. You’re always curious to see how well it goes, but this was great tonight. Great crowd, great energy. It was a really diverse audience. It was a lot of fun.

Later this month you’re headed to South Africa to do a few shows. Do you find that in shows overseas, there’s a difference between the audiences and the energy of the show?

South Africans are really a fun audience. They are one of the best audiences I’ve played for around the world, when I played in Johannesburg before. There’s a lot of energy, they love singing along with the songs. Every song, every word. It’ll be fun.

What’s it been like having your brother on tour? Did you find that the dynamic between you has changed over the road?

No, we have fun together. I think he’s doing really well, he’s really connecting with audiences and I’m really proud of him. I’m glad I’m able to take him in the road.

What are your thoughts on Auto-Tune?

I’ve used it in my career a few times, and I’m not against the use of it. I’m against the overuse of it, I guess. I think this little era in time will be remembered as the time when it was overused after a while. Obviously there’s been a bit of a backlash. I think artists have to be careful when they end up sounding just like everybody else. What are you worth if you just end up sounding like everybody else? You have to be careful to continue to push things forward and to be unique and be our own artists. One of the side effects of it is that it minimizes the differences between people’s voices, and you lose some of that distinction and individuality in people’s voices. I think it’s a mistake to overuse it.

You went to Penn. Was it difficult to balance being a student and a musician?

It was difficult because I would procrastinate on my schoolwork. I would do all this singing and writing and everything else but schoolwork, then I would end up stressing out when it was time for exams and everything, so I do not want to relive those moments. It was pretty stressful, but right now I’m in a good zone because I do what I love to do everyday and I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. I’m having fun.

Chipped purple walls and a golden chandelier greet concertgoers as they enter the Riviera Theatre in uptown Chicago. The antiquated décor complements the old-fashioned splendor that is found in the music of Oregon natives, The Decemberists. Before the main act performs, Laura Veirs and the Hall of Flames, also based out of Portland, Oregon, board the stage.

Veirs, wearing black-rimmed glasses with hair in braided pigtails, seems like the girl one sees playing her acoustic guitar in a field of daisies. Instead, she is singing to an audience full of anxious, bandana-clad, scowl-faced teenagers. The Hall of Flames, her band, appear to be in their own world the entire time, but they fail to emit any flames.

The crowd below grows hostile waiting for the lights to come back on, throwing dirty looks in every direction as those who got the lucky front or second row reel their late, and mostly wasted, friends through the sea of plaid-clad fans. But as the glow of blue lights is thrown over the stage, the focus is turned to Colin Meloy, the lead vocalist and songwriter of The Decemberists. The first half of the set consists of their latest album, The Hazards of Love. Meloy sounds exactly as he does on the albums: His voice is sweet and soft and his sideburns also live up to the hype, reaching to the bottom of his jaw.

The first few songs transition from peaceful melodies to pounding rock, causing the audience to switch from swaying, to thrusting their bodies forward in sync with the powerful guitars, to clapping their hands to the beat. When “The Rake Song” begins, Meloy seems equally as elated as the bopping crowd when everyone eagerly helps him out by singing “all right, all right, all right” at the end of each verse.

After The Hazards of Love set, the band takes an intermission and returns to perform a selection of older songs, including “July, July,” a song from their debut album, Castaways and Cutouts, as well as crowd-pleaser “O Valencia!“ The first encore ends with the intense crescendo of “The Crane Wife 1 & 2.” After this, Meloy removes his guitar, its strap covered in playful red stripes and blue stars, and thanks the crowd for coming.

Meloy returns alone on the stage minutes later with “Save Yourself,” a song from his previous band, Tarkio. The next song, ”Sons and Daughters” from The Crane Wife is the finale. It is not until mid-song, when Meloy guarantees that the impending refrain will stay with us through the night and be there in the morning “making [us] eggs,” that the force starts to appear.

Meloy instructs us to chant “here all the bombs fade away” and, as each line is repeated, the volume increases. Meloy motions for the upper level to rise and slowly each person in the filled balcony stands up, belting out the refrain. It goes on for what seems like minutes, causing the previously grimacing fans to smile ear to ear from the power of the collective refrain. Though I didn’t wake up the next morning with a freshly made omelet as Meloy had promised, he was right about one thing: Here all the bombs fade away.

You may have heard of them if:

• You watch David Letterman and Conan O’Brien. (They performed “Ready, Able” on Letterman and “While You Wait for the Others” on Conan.)
• You, for some reason, still watched Gilmore Girls during its season finale. (Some character mentions them in passing.)
• You are looking forward to The Twilight Saga: New Moon soundtrack. (They contributed the song “Slow Life” to the much anticipated soundtrack.)
• You went to the Pitchfork Music Festival this summer. (They played right before The Flaming Lips on the adjacent stage.)
• You follow @edwarddroste on Twitter.

You may like them if you like: Radiohead, Bon Iver, Department of Eagles, Pink Floyd (the Syd Barrett era), Beach Boys (or just really awesome harmonies), Jay-Z’s opinion

The foursome that comprises Grizzly Bear don’t really come across as the masterminds behind one of indie rock’s greatest albums of year, much less the decade. Christopher Bear, Chris Taylor, Daniel Rossen and Ed Droste, the timidly charming frontman, would fit in more at a low-key bar in Brooklyn than on The Tonight Show or The Late Show with David Letterman, and yet once they start to play, they deliver a performance worthy of Madison Square Garden. Even Jay-Z, hip-hop’s reigning king, thinks the quirky quartet is not only an “incredible band” but is an inspiration along with the rest of the indie movement.

In 2006, Grizzly Bear released Yellow House, a grittier and more experimental album than their latest release, but a masterpiece regardless. The guitars cut in “Knife,” while the dissonant chords of “On a Neck, on a Spit” alienate because “out here no one can hear me.” It feels more reserved and intimate and you can almost picture the eponymous house as the album plays.

Listening to Veckatimest however is quite the departure. It’s like going on a musical journey where vocals, drums, guitars and even omnichords blend together perfectly and create another dimension of sound. The deliberate precision that courses through every beat and chord is like a drug that travels through your entire body from the moment the sound waves hit your eardrums.

It begins powerfully with the all-consuming “Southern Point,” which starts with an almost jazzy atmosphere, quickly crescendos and explodes into a symphony of sound. The album suddenly shifts to “Two Weeks,” where the clinking piano contrasts with Droste’s despondent description of his “routine malaise.” It’s a song of juxtaposition and contradictions that encapsulates the painstaking amount of effort it takes to make a bad relationship work.

The only flaw in this otherwise perfect album would have to be song six of 12. “Dory” is odd and is usually skipped on my iTunes. It’s as if the album takes an intermission from greatness to try out something that doesn’t quite fit — not like it really matters, anyway. They come right back with “Ready, Able,” an audiophile’s dream at the right bit rate if I ever heard one. The song swims through Droste’s inner confessional as he hopes he is “ready, able to make my own” and proclaims “I want you to know that what I did, I did.”

“While You Wait for the Others” (with another even more bizarre video to accompany it) travels through the depths of hopelessness as “we all fall through” in an epic power ballad that ends with a beautifully sobering conclusion. The music fades, and all that is left is the quartet’s graceful harmony and the final tracks.

In its entirety, Veckatimest sounds like this vast landscape of perfectly intertwined sounds. Grizzly Bear has a talent for making every note resonate on its own so that when it all comes together it seems so much grander than any single element actually is. It’s like the band members themselves. Each unassuming in his own right, but when they take the stage and it’s about the music, they become a dynamic force, surpassing any and all expectations.
That’s the beauty behind this band and this meticulously polished album. It’s all about the music. They’re not seeking stardom. They don’t want to be rock stars. They want to make great music and if that’s the goal, something as superb as Veckatimest is the result.

Frontman John Samson rocks out to the roaring crowd on Sept. 25. Photo by author.

The wait for this concert was the longest I’ve ever experienced. Doors opened at 8 p.m. The opening act, a group called Rock Plaza Central, finally stepped out at close to 9:30. By that time, the crowd, myself included, had grown quite antsy and irritated. A man right next to me screamed for Rock Plaza to play one song and get off for The Weakerthans. But Rock Plaza had other plans. With an energetic, thunderous set filled with the lead singer’s loud wailing, they primed the audience to headbang instead of complain, setting the stage for their fellow Canadian headliners.

The Weakerthans followed with a truly enjoyable performance. More than making up for the late start, the band’s ample set lasted for over an hour and a half, consisting of a whopping 21 songs. Opening with the minimalist, downbeat “Night Windows,” I thought that The Weakerthans were going to opt for a more tranquil and meditative show. Instead, they segued into a sped up, frenetic version of “Tournament of Hearts,” which set the mood for the rest of the concert. They filled it with mostly faster-paced, spunkier pieces in The Weakerthans’ discography. It was an amusing dichotomy. Despite the heavy lyrical content of the music, people were jubilantly bouncing and shouting the lyrics at the top of their lungs. The frontman, John Samson, kept up his huge, infectious grin and humorous quirks, even while performing some of the band’s more solemn pieces, which included “I Hate Winnipeg” and “Left and Leaving.” To be honest, I wish I had heard more of those quieter songs. While they are lyrically distinct, The Weakerthan’s punk-flavored compositions are musically not very special. The instruments easily drowned out the vocals, so it became hard to tell some of the pieces apart. And given that the lyrics aren’t exactly easy to memorize, due to their complexity and lack of repetition, I found myself struggling at times to sing along.

But ultimately, that is a minor complaint. I had a good night watching The Weakerthans, and seemingly, so did everyone else. For once, I didn’t bump into angry, confrontational drunks at a concert. Instead, people were mellowing in the festive, pleasant atmosphere, high-fiving with one hand while holding a cold beer in the other. My favorite moment of the night actually had little to do with the music itself. At one point in the middle of a song, John Samson summoned a guitar-player from the audience to the stage. Samson promptly handed his instrument over to this person, and then leapt down to join the audience. After getting past his initial shock, the guy played out the instrumental portion of the song with the rest of the band, clearly having the time of his life. All the while, Samson was raucously cheering on the man from below. When Samson finally came back on stage, the two shared a hearty embrace. That event made me enjoy the concert even more, making the trip a worthwhile one indeed.

Zero 7’s latest album, Yeah Ghost. Photo courtesy of Atlantic Records.

Dusk breakers, sparks green

crackling as they crest. Grey froth &

Moonight. Alone rockspear through black

Coast no water just

Rocksandwaves.

U.K.-based downtempo artists Zero 7 scatter shoot on Yeah Ghost, the group’s fourth full album. They score more hits than misses, but the targets are so far apart that their audience will likely wonder at what they were aiming.

As Zero 7, Henry Binns and Sam Hardaker released their first album, Simple Things, in 2001. The album was nominated for the U.K. and Ireland’s prestigious Mercury Music Prize and received broad critical accolade (Pitchfork, unsurprisingly, demurred, calling the album a prime example of “limp-tronica”).

The band found mainstream appeal by licensing singles such as “Destiny” and “In the Waiting Line” for use in overwrought dramatic montages on Smallville, House and Sex and the City. Zero 7 bucks this easy characterization and embraces the weird on Yeah Ghost. The scouts at Apple’s ad division are in for some disappointment.

Yeah Ghost could be a soundscape from an alien world’s beaches and balconies, temples and fire pits. The first cut, “Count Me Out,” undulates with baleen cascades of blue synth. The song doesn’t wash over the listener; it actively pulls and pushes them into a final, empyrean crescendo.

Then “Mr McGee” surprises with a Little Jackie jaunt into R&B, courtesy of guest singer Eska Mtungwazi. Zero 7 puts their production expertise to good use and provides an accessible handicap tee for anyone put off by the lead track’s abstract electronica.

“Swing,” featuring folk singer Martha Tilston, misses longtime collaborator Sia, who does not appear on any of the tracks. The steel drums are a nice touch, though.

An apparent throw-in to footballer Zinedine Zidane, “Everything Up (Zizou)” reintroduces Binns’ voice after his 2006 singing debut on the album, The Garden. For himself, Binns saves a choice verse, “Murakami would have told you so/If you catch him would you let me know/I’m bobbing apples in the studio/Aikido, aikido-se-do.” He not only pulls the line off, but also makes it one of the album’s most memorable moments.

Yeah Ghost peaks with “Pop Art Blue,” a lover’s retrospective campfire song that chills with “I cut myself on barbed wire/getting wood for the fire.” Mtungwazi returns for “Medicine Man” and “Sleeper” and she shocks some urgency into the album’s second half. Yet the songs break up the pace and turn Yeah Ghost into an eclectic trip-hop mix tape.

What’s left? “Ghost SYMbOL,” will excite fans of dubstep artists like Burial. “The Road” reassures, a warm techno-hymn that could be from the soundtrack to Brother Where Art Thou? A Space Odyssey. An expendable instrumental piece, “Solastalgia,” precedes.

Spare and patient, the final track, “All of Us,” triumphs. The tune’s placement and title imply Zero 7 intends to have taken the listener on a journey from the initial “Count Me Out.” Binns and Hardaker hop around so much, though, it’s hard to determine if we’re two steps forward, one step back or just off to the side somewhere.

Mika’s latest album The Boy Who Knew Too Much. Photo courtesy of Casablanca Records.

Grade: B

Compare the cover art of Mika’s 2007 debut, Life in Cartoon Motion, with the pop virtuoso’s sophomore effort, The Boy Who Knew Too Much. If you can tolerate one coloring book brain burst, you’ll probably dig two. Same applies to the music within.

For those unfamiliar with Mika’s coming-out album, your enjoyment of The Boy Who Knew Too Much will depend not on how long, but how high you’re willing to listen. Beginning with the words “Teenage dreams in a teenage circus,” Mika sticks to falsetto — thematically and vocally — for all 13 tracks.

Lead single “We Are Golden” never surpasses its title, an earnest identification for the gays and girls craving a more wholesome (but still fabulous) counterpart to Lady Gaga’s glitter. Another anthem, “Touches You,” stands loud and proud amid the chaos: “I want to be your brother/Want to be your father too/Never make you run for cover/Even if they want us to.”

In every permutation, Mika addresses boys, girls and love. His shrieks instantly bring to mind singers such as Prince and Freddie Mercury. Lebanese, American, French, British and the student of a Russian opera singer, Mika poses as a serious contender for the queer throne once ruled by goblin king David Bowie, Queen and Sir Elton John.

Flirtations with different genres produce mixed results. Calypso (“Blue Eyes”) suits Mika well. The music box, Disney trills of “Toy Boy,” (treading the same ground as the Dresden Dolls’ “Coin-Operated Boy”) errs toward too cutesy. On one of the album’s standout tracks, “By the Time,” Mika out-dreams his collaborator, sandwoman Imogen Heap.

Elsewhere, Mika plays it safe. He smartly trusts his expert pipes and layered arrangements to dazzle Cartoon Motion fans all over again. “Rain” replicates the gloomy, pulsing electro-lite of “Relax, Take it Easy.” On the other hand, an old-timey intro to “Blame it on the Girls” doesn’t stick like that final “Ka-ching!” of “Grace Kelly.”

Not a boy, not yet a man, Mika frequently mentions mom and dad, and his chirpy highs and melodramatic lows prevent anyone from taking him seriously. The Boy Who Knew Too Much offers every type of sugar a kid could want. After the rush, though, it’s just hunger and headache.