Pressing Concerns: Mister Data, Pallas Wept, Big Bend, The Knickerbocker5

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Last week was such a great week on Rosy Overdrive–and I’ll think you’ll be pleased to hear that what we’ve got in store this week is just as great. We’re starting off with a Monday Pressing Concerns featuring new albums from Pallas Wept, Big Bend, and The Knickerbocker5, as well as a new EP from Mister Data. I suspect that most of you have not heard of the majority of these bands before (if you have, congratulations–they’ve done it again!), but I believe you’ll find something in these records that you’ll love.

If you’re looking for more new music, you can visit the site directory to see what else we’ve written about lately. If you’d like to support Rosy Overdrive, you can share this (or another) post, or donate here.

Mister Data – Missing the Metaphor

Release date: September 13th
Record label: Little Lifeforms
Genre: Folk rock, power pop, indie pop
Formats: CD, digital
Pull Track: Transporter Room 3

I cover a lot of music in Pressing Concerns (I know, it’s true), so you’d be forgiven for not remembering Mister Data’s Pleasure in a Fast Void, which I wrote about in May of last year. A brief refresher–it’s an intriguing, exploratory yet laid-back guitar pop/power pop record from a Houston quintet that’s co-led by vocalists Austin Sepulvado (guitar) and Ellen Story (piano). Now that you remember, feel free to throw all that out the window–Mister Data’s follow-up, a five-song EP called Missing the Metaphor, is a pretty big departure for the band. Not that they suddenly started making ska or post-hardcore or anything like that–they’re still making relatively catchy pop rock, it just feels different. Much of that can be chalked up to some major lineup changes–Story and drummer Gus Alvarado have departed the band, Jack Gordon moved from bass to drums, and Marshall Graves from guitar to bass. Missing the Metaphor is the sound of a band soldiering forward nonetheless, finding a new sound that emphasizes the songwriting and lyricism–and in the process, creating their strongest work yet. Intentionally or otherwise, Missing the Metaphor’s writing touches on stumbling forward uncertainly but bravely, dealing with the agony and ecstasy in trying to live for something–anything–bigger than one’s self.

Missing the Metaphor is remarkable in its unflinching, cohesive cosmic ugliness–I liked Pleasure in a Fast Void, but there was nothing on that album suggesting that Mister Data had something like opening track “No. I Don’t Think So” in them. “Every day feels like the start of something new / Every day that I’m married to you,” Sepulvado sings as the sun rises at the beginning of the track, and the track (and the relationship therein) descends into a skin-crawlingly public disintegration, one that feels like it spills over into the EP’s second track, “Headcanon in G Minor” (these things never wrap themselves up as neatly and timely as we’d like, no). If the first two songs on Missing the Metaphor reflect the pratfalls of trusting another person with a hefty portion of one’s happiness and meaning, “Transporter Room 3”, the heart of the EP, is the antidote. Mister Data keep it simple here, as Sepulvado’s guitar and vocals sit largely unadorned while unspooling a genuinely affecting modern folk song about organized labor, ancestral pride, and belief in a shared humanity that extends beyond one’s own lifespan. Oh, and it’s about Star Trek, too–the whole thing is based on a minor plot point from an episode of Deep Space Nine (look, the band is called Mister Data, there’s no getting around it). “Transporter Room 3” bleeds into the title track, a rude awakening after the previous song’s interstellar utopianism. Probably the catchiest song on the EP, “Missing the Metaphor” is a just-as-beautiful portrait of the indignity of it all–scraping by in a dreadful job in order to pay the bills and “keep [one’s] dog alive”. It’s probably the best song ever to include the phrase “ecclesiastical evermore”.

We all want “Missing the Metaphor” to be an uplifting “quit your shitty job” anthem, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself just to that reading. Those looking for storybook closure aren’t going to really get it with the EP’s final track, “The Galaxy Song”, either. For one, it’s a Monty Python cover, which should clue you in on what’s coming–but nonetheless, the final verse (“So remember, when you’re feeling very small and insecure / How amazingly unlikely is your birth / And pray that there’s intelligent life somewhere up in space / ‘Cause it’s bugger all down here on Earth”) is still one hell of a lurch–taking us light-years away from the tiny planet where Mister Data’s characters are licking their wounds after a break-up, looking to the stars for hope, gritting their teeth and getting through the worst days, and actively fighting to make the world a better place. Time marches forward, but it’s also a social construct–that means you can make whatever trajectory you want out of Missing the Metaphor. At least, that’s probably what Mister Data believes–true Trekkies, these Texans. (Bandcamp link)

Pallas Wept – Nothing But Water

Release date: September 10th
Record label: Self-released
Genre: Psychedelic pop, 90s indie rock, art rock, math rock, prog-pop
Formats: Digital
Pull Track: Seasick

Pallas Wept is a new indie rock band out of Houston, comprised of vocalist/guitarist Ethan Adkison, guitarist Gavin Kenyon, bassist Zach Sutton-Fountain, and percussionist Ruairi O’Brien (who lives an hour away in Huntsville–a short jaunt by Texas standards). They’ve been playing live shows around the Lone Star State for over a year now without any music out, but they’re starting with a grand first statement in Nothing But Water, their debut album. For those of you who love when bands make proper, thirty-plus minute albums with only six songs on them, you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for on Nothing But Water, a record that isn’t shy about letting its songs creep past the five minute mark. Probably the simplest way to boil down Nothing But Water is the classic-rock-band-setup guitar heroic version of indie rock practiced by Built to Spill crossed with the progressive pop jamming attitude of Animal Collective (I didn’t just come up with that; both bands are prominently mentioned in the email O’Brien sent to me about this album). What sticks with me longer than the RIYL list, though, is just how even-keeled Nothing But Water sounds–Ruairi O’Brien’s drumming, Kenyon’s mesmerizing guitar leads and harmonics, Sutton-Fountain’s hidden-in-plain sight bass melodies, and Adkison’s earnest indie pop vocals all have their moments, working hard to tease out the best in these songs without hogging the spotlight for too long.

Being one of the two songs on the album under five minutes long, “Fuzzy” is almost Nothing But Water’s “single” by default–it’s certainly brimming with enough melodic hooks to function as that, although the majority of the track’s stately, restrained emo-y indie rock sound doesn’t quite tell the listener everything that Pallas Wept have in store for them. Of course, that was never going to be really all that doable in just one song–even when “Fuzzy” roars to life for a half-minute towards the end of the track, it’s nothing like the stomping first movement of “Seasick” that follows it, nor is it like the quiet, post-rock wave-lapping that leads the song to its Modest Mouse-esque big finish. The second half of Nothing But Water is Pallas Wept growing stronger and bolder in real-time, topping themselves with one more ambitious song after another. The guitar work in “Mountain” is key to the song’s journey, repetitive and sturdy yet excitedly reflecting the upward climb. “How Cruel” starts its life as a downcast slacker rocker and it advances without too many bells and whistles, Pallas Wept believing in the smoldering heart of the track completely. If you liked that, you’ll be thrilled to see the band bust out the acoustic guitar and “atmospheric” production choices to get seven-minute closing track “Shimmer” started. Three minutes of hazy, dreamy aimlessness, two more of burgeoning, building post-rock–and then one last big indie rock anthem to cap it all off. Everything’s just right. (Bandcamp link)

Big Bend – Last Circle in a Slowdown

Release date: September 13th
Record label: Shimmy-Disc
Genre: Post-rock, art rock, experimental, jazz rock, chamber pop
Formats: Vinyl, digital
Pull Track: Wheeling

Big Bend is the project of Nathan Phillips, a Mansfield, Ohio-based musician whose work lives in the experimental realms of folk, rock, and electronic music. His breakthrough album, 2019’s Radish, was culled from “improvised recording sessions” at New York’s Figure 8 studio, but it nonetheless added a clear pop side to Big Bend that was missing on the group’s free-form debut, Hunched (this is largely due to Phillips stepping up as a vocalist on Radish after leaving the first Big Bend album instrumental). The third Big Bend album (and first for Shimmy-Disc), Last Circle in a Slowdown, emerged in much the same way Radish did–this time, via “ensemble jam sessions” from an Australian residency featuring producer Shahzad Ismaily, hammered dulcimer player Jen Powers (Powers / Rolin Duo), violinist Anna Roberts-Gevalt (Shane Parish), and drummer Sarah Pedinotti (Lip Talk), among others. Last Circle in a Slowdown also picks up the thread Phillips began exploring on Hunched, sounding more confident in its marriage of delicate pop music with the power of an ensemble of brilliant musicians. It’s almost like Phillips did Talk Talk in reverse, pulling jazz and classical influences together and coming away with a pop-fluent version of post-rock and folk music that uses empty space just as deftly as it uses percussion, piano, and guitars.

The last album I remember enjoying this much that also evoked late-era Talk Talk was Modern Nature’s No Fixed Point in Space, but Last Circle in a Slowdown builds an identity for itself early on by being more percussive and propulsive. The piano and drums of opening track “Wheeling” feel just a little restless; when Phillips finds a desperate twinge in his vocals after trying to keep things to a croon for most of the track, it fits the song’s atmosphere. While there’s a slow and still beauty throughout Last Circle in a Slowdown, Big Bend don’t rest at the cool pond of their sound entirely–“The Exit” and the title track both pleasingly puncture their ornate cores with Phillips’ emotive voice, and “Fast Moon” makes a pact with noise early on in its runtime. Last Circle in a Slowdown continues its rustling with second half highlights “Cistern” and “At the Door”, while penultimate song “Rolling Chair” might be the most complete-sounding composition on the entire album. Phillips leads his collaborators in a more or less straightforward chamber pop song for most of “Rolling Chair”; it doesn’t sound all that different from the more exploratory moments of Last Circle in a Slowdown, and when the song gets wobbly and shaky as it comes to a close, it’s right in line with the record too. (Bandcamp link)

The Knickerbocker5 – Disco Princess (Where We Are Now)

Release date: September 10th
Record label: Self-released
Genre: Funk rock, dance-punk, post-punk, jazz-rock, art rock
Formats: Digital
Pull Track: Sugargaze

The Knickerbocker5 are a relatively new group, formed by three Japanese musicians (two from Osaka, one from Tokyo) living in Brooklyn during the pandemic and named for the location of their first practice sessions together in person (on a rooftop on Knickerbocker Avenue). After debuting with a couple of singles last year, the trio (bassist Yoko, guitarist Arii, and drummer Ayako) have put together a seven-song, twenty-seven-minute cassette called Disco Princess (Where We Are Now) as their first full-length. The first Knickberbocker5 album puts the band members’ skills (between them, they’ve played in the bands Hard Nips, First President of Japan, Juice, and Invisible College) to good use, as the group make a version of rock music with shades of funk, jazz, and post-punk in a way that calls to mind both The Knickerbocker5’s home country and their current city of residence. Although there are plenty of extra touches on Disco Princess (Where We Are Now) (the core members are credited with everything from flute to guiro to vibraslap, not to mention guest musicians Pearie Sol on keyboard and Katya on saxophone), it has a pleasing live-jam feel to it–I can imagine all of this (well, most of it) happening on a rooftop somewhere in Brooklyn.

“Ligero (a.k.a. Karokaya or Step Lightly)” is a pleasingly straightforward start to Disco Princess (Where We Are Now), a relatively minimal dance-funk-rock tune carried by the rhythm section and beginner Spanish vocals (“Quiero hablar español pero no sé como hacerlo” is the first line) and augmented by Ayako tinkering on the cajon and guiro and Katya’s saxophone. Although the title track does indeed include a few stabs of disco guitar, on the whole it’s actually more deconstructed and post-punk-ish than the song before it–but even that doesn’t prepare us for the eight-minute psych-funk-prog-disco-kraut odyssey of “Sugargaze” that ends the first half of the tape. The core of “Sugargaze” is a pretty catchy dance-punk idea, but The Knickerbocker5 throw everything they’ve got at it, keeping it exciting for its entire runtime. If that doesn’t sound like a blast to you, I don’t know what to tell you, but maybe you’ll enjoy the closest thing the album has to a “hit” in the groovy, synth-y post-punk of “Spangle”, or the dub-like saxophone-heavy “Showa”. If “Sugargaze” is too much for you, you’re definitely going to want to skip closing track “Silver”, too–for those of us who are completely down with New York psychedelic rock that contains a troubling amount of flute playing, however, it’s a perfectly acceptable way to close out Princess (Where We Are Now). (Bandcamp link)

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