Boy in Static | Candy Cigarettes
By "Coconut" Roman Coke • Apr 20th, 2009 • Category: On the Record
Most Likely To: get stuck in the middle with you.
The Coconut is feeling a bit out of sorts today. Maybe it’s the Ambien. Maybe it’s the absinthe that I may or may not have mixed correctly. Maybe it’s the Ambien chased with the absinthe. Who said music critics can’t live on the edge as well?
I’ve been living with this Boy in Static album far too long. It is my duty to pore over a record to make sure I get it right. Sometimes, it’s a cinch; other times, it’s a struggle. And reviewing BIS (us critics love to use acronyms, OK?) has been that struggle. A struggle because my critic meter is firmly in the ‘meh’ zone. It’s not overtly good, it’s not horribly bad. It’s just kind of there.
BIS does display an ability to implement unique instrumentation. For instance, they have a distinct fondness for the toy piano. The piano strolls through many of Candy Cigarettes’ 10 songs. Oftentimes it’s paired with techno beats or viola or the occasional synthesized strings. You hear the toy piano so much, you just know the wind up monkey is clanging the cymbals. I haven’t heard this much toy piano since my niece’s third birthday party (and she can’t play for shit). With some filtering, vocalist Alex Chen’s voice often hearkens back to Bryan Ferry while warm female backing vocals make random appearances. And they mention no fewer than two airports and a handful of American cities to add depth.
The other prevalent feature throughout Candy Cigarettes is those synthesizers. Synths act as a conduit to BIS’ muddied lyrics. I guess someone can decipher most of what Boy in Static is singing about. Can you? Let’s play a game. Someone tells me what the following line means, and you win a prize. Here’s your lyric:
Let’s lull divorcees from their households
You can play my first wife
I can play the paperwork that saves you.
Figure it out and you get exclusive privileges to clean my private bathroom here at the Manor. Just make sure you bring lots of disinfectant. Lots of disinfectant.
“Tijuana” has a sense of undercover spy paranoia. “Toy Baby Gran” uses call and response between Chen and those mysterious women singers. Cred gaining guests like Liz Enthusiasm (I don’t think that’s her real name. I think it’s actually Ann.), Mark Bianchi, and Ulrich Schnauss drop in. The record grows familiar after a few spins. It’s no surprise to hear some beats here, an obscure lyric there, manic keys here. Not bad in and of itself, but it breeds a certain been there, heard that vibe. Having been there and heard that, it’s now time to let the Ambien do its job.
Listen to “Young San Francisco” from Boy in Static:
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"Coconut" Roman Coke is on a slow path to world domination which has led him to many callings: professional lacrosse player, helicopter pilot, foot model, and double agent.
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Coconut,
Instead of belaboring your readers with what is in your medicine or liquor cabinet, you might consider doing some research on the bands that you review. Both members on Boy in Static are children of immigrants. And if you looked at the album cover, or read up on the band you might realize that there are some threads connecting back to these histories. The lyric is a reference to paperwork that is required for green cards and the temporary marriages that are made to ensure a US citizenship.
On another note, if you are going to name drop, you might as well get correct names. Additional research is required on the real name of Liz Enthusiasm. It might also strengthen your credibility to get the album name correct.
Dear Infidel Reader
Thanks so much for stepping up. Your name will be on the list at the Servants Entrance for your Thursday 10 AM shift. Just a word of warning; Wednesday nights is the weekly Bloody Mary and Six Alarm Chili cook off here at the Estate, so be prepared for a long day.
The rest of your inane gibberish is of no consequence to me. This is reinforced by your apparent inability to still get the Enthusiasm joke (itself a derivative of quite possibly the Oldest Joke in the Book). I don’t even know that The Eliterati can help you out.
And your mother is a dirty crackwhore.
Coconut, you are pretty much the worst music journalist i’ve read in a long time.This site has been known brash retardedness but you are close to taking the cake. Not only did you clip a good portion of your review from the press release but you come off as a smug idiot like Vice’s constipated little brother.
How can a band “display an ability to implement unique instrumentation” and then be “been there and heard that”?
If you didn’t like a record there’s a better way to say it than “i’n kind of an asshole and wasn’t in the mood to listen to this record”
Except that there is a toy piano somewhere, I still don’t get much of an idea of what this album sounds like or is supposed to sound like. I’m also with the person above who said enough already with the medicine cabinet. Seriously.
and you had nothing to say to “just so you know”
you’re PATHETIC