> May 1, 2003 > Arts > Disc Reviews

VARIOUS ARTISTS
THE WEST COAST OF THE EAST COAST
***
Self-released

Pittsburgh compilations can be a mixed bag. If they don't focus on a specific genre, they often encompass too much diversity, resulting in a collection that's uneven or too long. The West Coast of the East Coast marks the second anthology of bands that frequent the Mr. Roboto Project, following Go Down Fighting...Come Up Smiling from the fall of 2001. None of the 24 bands appeared on the previous compilation, which speaks to the vitality of both the underground scene and the Roboto Project's commitment to presenting it. A good chunk of them veer towards thrashy hardcore, with the best results coming when the bands tinker with the hard/fast/intense approach. Conelrad fills "Mania A Potu" with quick stops and dynamic shifts where they're least expected. Pay Toilets' "How Punk Rock Is That" has just right amount of pontification and humor, something lacking in the juvenile joke-punk of Totally Awesome Dudes. The sound of shredded vocal chords boosts the intensity of some songs (Forward Motion's new take on Hüsker Dü) and sounds more like an easy way to make noise in others (Stilyagi, Better Off Dead). Along with liberal representation of the punk rock sisterhood -- the Accident, Corpus Christie, Cnvrsns, Neotrope and Aphasia all feature women -- The West Coast keeps things interesting through sequencing: Zombi's sci-fi soundtrack segues into Lorelei's low-end attack and All the Quiet's dynamics lead into the Human Brains' hard rock, the latter a style once unthinkable on a punk rock collection. This makes the lesser moments sound stronger thanks to the surrounding company. Release of the disc benefits the Multi-Tool, an annex of the Project that houses a bookstore, bicycle recycling program and zine library. It comes packaged with a hand-designed cover and detailed booklet.

-- MIKE SHANLEY

Sat., May 2: Along with a Multi-Tool Open House, a CD release show will feature the Pay Toilets, Lorelei, Aphasia, Human Brains, Adams & the Blackout, the Copyrights. 7:30 p.m. Mr. Roboto Project, Wilkinsburg. 412.247.6939

THE WHITE STRIPES
ELEPHANT
***
Third Man

For all the press that White Stripes have garnered in the last couple years, it seems that very little of it deals with the actual music. They have become a mini-marketing empire and as such have propelled themselves into the forefront of the so-called resurgence of rock and roll. The simple yet effective red-and-white motif in which they package themselves and their merchandise is eye-catching and sets them apart from the crowd; it's basic product recognition, used by musicians of all stripes, from the Beatles to Kiss. Even Grandpa Jones had an image-based gimmick. Jack and Meg White have played with the press as to the exact nature of their relationship, and the "is she/isn't she, sister/wife/ex-wife" routine has guaranteed a lot of speculation and, yes, more press. Elephant ends with "Well It's True That We Love One Another." Featuring guest vocals by British punk diva Holly Golightly, the song pokes fun at the obsession the press has with their relationship and adds fuel to further speculation. What lies under all of the hype and image is a lot of fun music. Elephant is the fourth White Stripes album and, like its predecessors, contains an eclectic mix of rock influences. On any given song there are hints of blues, glam and the ever-present early punk. Jack plays slide guitar like he sold his soul to Robert Johnson by way of Johnny Thunders. His voice, though rife with sometimes annoying affectation, is convincing whether he's screaming his way through a high-powered rocker or crooning a sweet love song. Meg's drumming is steady as a metronome and about as creative, yet provides a solid base. She steps up to the mike to provide vocals on a couple of songs, and her voice is as sweet as her demeanor -- not a great voice, but real. They were taken to task for the lack of a bass guitar in their sound on previous albums, but it's all over Elephant -- everywhere except in the credits, that is. Perhaps they're still in denial, but the low-end adds depth to the album, a foundation that strengthens the drums and anchors Jack's vocals. While building on the same musical lexicon as their previous albums, Elephant doesn't have the immediate visceral appeal. It's a good album, if a little long, hurt about halfway through by a grating spoken-word piece about squirrels. The White Stripes can be thoroughly entertaining if you can set aside musical critique and respond with your gut, and that's where rock and roll should live anyway.

-- WAYNE WISE