Along with Christopher, Rap Vocalist Paul Arabella exhales igneous verse that bridge chorus potential into hit records. Smooth in delivery, this peerless lyrical professional controls the measure and moves the beat with direction. Imbedded into the culture of hip hop from the ages of adolescence, big Paul reinvented himself in content and persona that parallels elevated status. Assisting the leaders of the new sound, high style Guitarists Alec Bauer and Keith Yackey service the band with a unique quality of experience, the combination of youth and talent. Alec has shared studio and stage time with the likes of legends Dave Navarro (guitarist) and Steve Thompson (producer) while sharp string Keith can play more instruments than a one man band.

Drawing deeply on vintage-soul, hardcore, punk and reggae, Chris *******'s music is sifted through a philosophic world-perspective, evoking memories of the late Jeff Buckley, whom his producer Craig Levy, an associate of Buckley’s during his late years, often compares him to.

Chris' own musical roots began in the Philly underground, rumbling with the punk/hardcore scene as a teenager, taking in the radicalism and aggression inspired by the tribal rhythms of communal youth, yet only beginning to discover his own voice after being exposed to musical visionaries, such as Curtis Mayfield, Bob Marley, Joe Strummer and John Lennon who spoke to global audiences. By fusing his understanding of the underground scene with sounds and ideas of bygone eras, his unique sound and vision would start to take shape.

Junior Violence begins with a death rattle of the most optimistic sort. Half-synthesized and half-howled, the first song on Ape School's new album sums up birth, death, and the guilt you face as you drop the needle on side A:

Did you know you fucked yourself?

Everything is on the other side of that question. Answer it and you'll wonder why you're just now fessing up. Tell your truth and the Oberheim OB-8 will cascade like a waterfall. The bass line will try to feel you up. It's all foreplay for the anthemic "Marijuana's on the Phone" and the nine tracks that follow, adding up to the second album from Ape School, the flaming sigil for a man named Michael Johnson. Junior Violence is part confession, part blitz, part hangover, and part ascension.

Over the past three years, Johnson built and demolished with equal fervor. Junior Violence was constructed version-by-version, through the controlled burns and tropical storms of experimentation, collaboration, a well-timed Eventide sponsorship, day jobs (teaching), and night jobs (playing and recording with friends War on Drugs and Kurt Vile). Part of Philadelphia's musical fabric for a decade, Johnson started life in Florida. Born into that solid-state bed of Def Leppard and Van Halen and the subsequent pan-generational cures of Jane's Addiction and Dinosaur Jr., Johnson went from building guitars out of legos and smoking joints at church talent shows into the Gainesville d.i.y. scene and a pile of bands—including Holopaw. Touring, joining the Sub Pop label, album-crafting with Brian Deck, and Johnson's first taste of digital recording meshed with his march toward professorship at an art school in Philadelphia. That geographic shift coincided with tourmate Sam Beam (Iron and Wine) introducing Johnson to Kurt Vile, an IDM love affair giving way to a lifelong relationship with Daedelus (who took Ape School's record to Ninja Tune after it was mixed at Rastafari studio in Brooklyn), and Johnson playing in the last audible breaths of Lilys.

The Ape School equation, worked out in real time on the I-95 corridor, is audible in Junior Violence's forty minutes. Experience, context, the skill to build a raging fire, and the confidence to toss ideas straight into the blaze drove Michael Johnson to embrace first takes, to fuck up, to play match maker between Pink Floyd and Prince, between Soft Machine and Queen, and to build a band out of geniuses. The album and live lineup features Eric Slick on drums, who joined Ape School while he was playing with Adrian Belew (King Crimson) and who went on to join Dr. Dog. Liz Boyd, Scott Churchman, Adam Ravitz, Zach Poyatt, Beachwolf, and a rotating roster of former students perform as Ape School and round out its undeniable wall of sound.

"If it sounds like it is directed to somebody else, it's probably directed at me." Johnson can tell a story for every song. "Marijuana's on the Phone", the album's lead single (out on a 7" this June), began as drunken strum into a tape recorder that was rounded out the morning after with Slick, an ARP 2600, and that swinging baritone sax. The pulsing "Carry On" was based entirely on a Ras Michael reggae beat. Electrified with Boyd's vocals, an addictive chorus, and that clear-ringing guitar line, you might catch a whiff of meaning: acute perception can be a real pain in the ass; sometimes you just want to be stupid. "Ready for Duty", a nod to Captain Beefheart, calls out the oil-filled Gulf of Mexico lapping the shores of Johnson's hometown—a suicide note and a love letter, all at once.

Michael Johnson declared to all, "I've got sourpuss down to a science," and, indeed, Junior Violence is an acidic pop exploder. It sends bullets flying and knives thrusting, but it does so in the golden light of Summer. This album professes love in its exploration of all the parts of life that hold you back from that very pleasure. It declares passion in its obsessive care and quality, and in its respect for and exaltation of moments of trouble and chance. It's an ode to invention, to the sonic recipe that calls for everything from synth to sax. And when you think about life and all us living it, there might be no better name for it than Ape School.

Bucky wrote:dang i thought barry jive came back

Rev_Beezer wrote:Millionaires started on the beautiful day of August 14th 2007. It was a quite sunny day, just like any other day in Huntington Beach, California; a perfect day to fly a medium-sized vibrant rainbow butterfly kite. But instead, Melissa and Allison Green (yes, they're sisters) started to become inquisitive about their new Apple desktop and decided to "[expletive] around" on Garageband. After two hours of intense physical labor filled with blood, sweat and [expletive], they came up with the first hit, 'I Like Money.' They decided that maybe since the Garageband loops and vocal recordings (aka yelling at the Apple desktop monitor since they had no recording system whatsoever) were SO AMAZING, they should make a music Myspace. They realized, upon creating the Myspace, that they did not have an extravagant name to go along with their new hit. The two quickly decided upon Millionaires because it tied into the name of the song, 'I Like Money.' Within hours after posting the first song, they received a [expletive] load of online attention and within weeks, were already on the Myspace Top Artist Charts.

High Water is a sparkling new fire clean up act that throws rain on your face and tears on your sandals. Hear the midnight grooves, the cherry blossom notes and the lightning orange trees--walk through the forest with a glass plated throat and those blue stockings that your mother gave you at your wedding. This stuff lights up your day. This stuff makes ya sing to your sweetheart. This stuff is golden noise for the back of your heart.

slugsrbad wrote:I read this as "Bland Burbs".

Los Colognes

"working together is easy..."
los cuh-lone-aze
rhymes with "dos cojones"
it's not actual spanish
and it means nothing

Liars have never been futurists, and a curious byproduct of their electronic shift is how it’s made them strangely retro.