# (?): Snowden - Anti-Anti
Here's where I make like the 40 Watt, supporting local music and screwing another good band out of a good spot: I have to give # (something) to Anti-Anti, the first EP by Snowden, a relatively young Atlantan (but almost Athenian) band led by a young Dorian Gray of a singer, Jordan Jeffares. I do so if only on the biases that they are local (repreSENT!); that they gave one of the most impressive performances I saw all year; that they have shared the stage with lauded (and good) bands such as Malajube, the Arcade Fire, Deerhunter, and the Junior Boys; and that some of their ATH friends are my friends. But that's neither here nor there. Anti-Anti really is a treat, and I can honestly say that it is one of my favorite records of 2006. But I probably would never have heard it if Snowden hadn't occurred to me one grungy evening back in October at the Caledonia Lounge. The Caledonia, mind you, is a puny little dive that often harbors surprisingly big sound (sometimes sandwiching it between lesser sounds); big sound that feels as if it should be spilling out onto the parking lot and into the much bigger 40 Watt Club, just a bop around the corner. Snowden's name had found its way into my awareness through indie osmosis, so when I saw their name on the roster for that night I did a bit of research, and, being bombarded with Interpol comparisons, i sighed (why are SO MANY BANDS today compared to Interpol? why don't you just make a White Album reference and call it a day?) and elected to go decide for myself if such a cliché comparison was defensible.
It was, and it wasn't. Both bands have the trench-scooping, staccato bass lines that invalidate any shoegaze classifications, and the washed-out, E-Bowed Les Pauls filling and breaching said trenches, that re-validate them. The vocals in both Interpol and Snowden, while not necessarily the driving force of either band, do make the ultimate call on their overall moods. Jordan Jeffares' voice certainly has a Paul Banks affectation, and everyone knows that Paul Banks' voice is an affectation of Ian Curtis' voice. But where Banks borrows both the impression of distance and the ennui from Ian Curtis' croon, Jeffares borrows only the distance. Joy Division is filtered out all the more, and thus if you just HAD to make some sort of an Interpol comparison, you would have to at least call Snowden an Interpol with a stronger sense of HOPE.
So how is Snowden NOT comparable to Interpol? In that they don't mean to be. It's as apparent live as recorded. If you lost the reverb you'd have a group of not-so-brooding, not-so-hardcore, not-so-Bowery Ballroom young musicians just tryin' to get by doing what they love best. Not-so-cool? Not necessarily. Just maybe not self-proclaimed cool. Even Corinne Lee, who may be the coolest, hottest, most badass female bassist I've ever seen, is as humble as the rest of them. No, I don't see Jeffares as lying around on his shag carpet listening to "Roland" on repeat, weeping with frustration as he struggles to figure out just how Paul Banks makes his voice sound so distant. I see him as listening to music, in general, in his car or on his iPod like the rest of the world, subconsciously drawing inspiration here and there, and it all just sort of seat-belting - and voilà - a band is born.
That night at the Caledonia, Snowden's big sound, as it turned out, did not spill out onto the pavement through the front and back doors of the Caledonia Lounge. It was contained, and potent, and effervescent, and and I drowned in sound and died happy. But if it ever were to burst through the doors, it would not spill out evenly but instead break apart, and each über-crafted bit would butterfly on in its own direction. Because Snowden's sound, while hauntingly harmonious, is a vulnerable one. It's one of those rare bands that could be described as "moody" or "atmospheric" and yet still be able to be easily broken down into four perfect plastic parts. If they were a compact 1980's toy, they'd be more of a Rubix Cube than a Koosh Ball. If they were a rock, they'd be sedimentary limestone long before metamorphic marble. If they were an abstract expressionist painting, they'd be a Rothko, not a Pollock (accordingly, Interpol would be an early Duchamp, My Bloody Valentine a De Kooning). Unfussily put for you.
But damn it! I forgot that this was an album review, not a concert review. You know what, though, in all honesty, Snowden's Anti Anti is a lot like a Snowden show. You've got a lot of warm, empowering waves moving around and through you, perhaps due to all the different kinds of electricity involved, or to the toxic blending of melancholic loops. Troposphere. Listening to, feeling these waves, you feel like you're being protected by your Rugby-playing older brother. You've got Chandler Rentz' FANTASTIC percussion, having quite the personality of its own, that he and the rest of the band obviously have so much fun with. If the Transformer played drums, I imagine it'd sound something like this. Stratosphere. You've got Jeffares and guitarist David Payne's doing all kinds of strumming and pedal effects, from buzzing to jangling (especially remarkable on the dead-in-your-tracks track "Black Eyes") to bell-ringing to telephone-ringing to siren-calling. You have lots of scary bass, minor chords, some first person plural, some syncopation, fun stuff like that. Mesosphere. And you don't need to see Jordan Jeffares' thrusting and digging man-movements as he plays and sings, or his soft, sweet, beautiful, romantic, mystifying, heroic, cherubic, no, almost Ganymedian, blond-headed face with its delicate, nuanced, sensual expressions...wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yes...You don't need to see Jordan Jeffares' decent mug with its decent expressions to know that I am a stalker. I mean, that he means what he sings. (!). No, you can hear it on the record, in the way he physically plays with his words, in the quietly embittered way he sings his anthems*, the unironic way he sings his diary pages**; so unironic, in fact, that it's Ironic***. Ah yes...magnetosphere.
Okokyeahyeah, I'm getting carried away. But you know what I mean: like, they're awesome. The only major difference between Anti-Anti played on your stereo and Anti-Anti played live (which is essentially what I saw that night) is that one is cooler to look at. And live, the bite is evenly dispersed throughout the evening, whereas en stéréo, it sort of fizzles after the 6th track, "Between the Rent and Me" (which happens to be the most effective track overall, if you ask me). Not to say that the second half of the album is bad, not at all, just that it doesn't quite match the magnificent production quality and presentation of the first. The songs become less intense, which would work if Anti-Anti weren't meant to be an intense album. But I'm pretty sure Snowden meant it to be so. Even two of the slows on the album, "My Murmuring Darling" and "Sisters" bite hard, if only in their sharp, if a little nouveau-goth, lyrics****. The other two slow songs, "Innocent Heathen" and "Victim Card,"*****, both second half songs, aren't so effective in this department or in any other department, really. But you know what, even if there are a few weak points, Anti-Anti is still a four star album in my opinion, and anyway, we can't all be as tough as Paul Banks.
Visit Snowden's myspace page to listen to some of Anti-Anti's highlights, and for a more extensive tour date listing than that on their website.
* "Like Bullets," "Anti-Anti," "Counterfeit Rules," "Kill the Power," "Victim Card." A bit of an overkill.
** This is where I realize/my trouble comes with bluest eyes/now when I walk in the room you know it's all I can do/to stare at the floor and not to look at you/I flavor to taste because taste is free/there are so few things between the rent and me (from "Between the Rent and Me")
*** Don't listen to me; I'm an idiot.
**** You've got a million things upon your nightstand/oh, I hate them/but it was in the pill I am swallowing still/'cause I messed up/so keep the lights on so I can remember why I came/sometimes I doubt you my murmuring darling (from "My Murmuring Darling")
**** A badass uptempo anthem version of "Victim Card" was the shining track on Snowden's otherwise mediocre 2003 self-titled EP; I really don't understand why it was slowed down for Anti-Anti, as the only thing it lacked in its original form was a little polish. It's unfortunate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How many minutes late I was to work this morning: 1 (!!!)
How many minutes late I am to actually leaving work because I have nothing else to do and because at work I have real contact with real humans and because I am actually a zombie and am going to eat some brains pretty soon: 1 hour, 23 minutes (...)
