CD reviews

Psychic Ills
Mirror Eye
(Social Registry)
*7.8*
Goes well with: Spacemen 3, Ravi Shankar, Ash Ra Tempel, butt-length hair

During their journey along the blurry outer-reaches of rock ’n’ roll, Psychic Ills haven’t been easy to peg. Gravitating toward the fringe rather than the spotlight, the mesmerizing drum programming of their early Mental Violence EPs was all but abandoned for the expansive, rambling suites of 2006’s Dins. And just as their first transition was a drastic leap forward, Mirror Eye sees the band dissipating into the horizon with only scant vapor trails left behind.
Best consumed sitting cross-legged on a Persian rug, “I Take You as My Wife Again” levitates like a gently whirring spaceship, and the oscillations of “Mantis” suck unassuming listeners upward into the tractor beam. If “Meta” and “Fingernail Tea” didn’t temporarily touch ground, the whole thing would detach from your stereo and float into space.
The formless masses of drones and hand drums collected here don’t qualify as traditional songs, but when taken as a whole, the album is far less difficult to digest than its smaller pieces. Mirror Eye is headphone music in the purest sense, so take out those lobe-raping white iPod buds and slap on a pair of your finest ear cups. Anything less would be doing a disservice to its mysterious, otherworldly appeal.
—Todd Kroviak

Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Old Money
(Stones Throw)
*7.9*
Goes well with: G8 protesters, At the Drive-In, Buckethead

With a claim to indie-rock princedom, Omar Rodriguez-Lopez’s tenure in At the Drive In, the essential post-hardcore band, would have established him as an untouchable (in the mafia sense, not the Indian-caste sense). But instead of resting on his laurels, he dawdled with the inventive-yet-listenable tendencies of The Mars Volta. Even if the Volta albums had been garbage, the party line would have still been “It’s OK, the guy was in ATDI!” The Mars Volta guitarist has gone solo, continuing in the experimental spirit of his main project.

For his second album, Old Money, he makes a sonic protest against the aristocracy and the influence they exert. Shrouded in Dead Kennedys-esque titles like “How to Bill the Bilderberg Group” and “Trilateral Commission as Dinner Guests” is more of the wandering guitar and fuzzy, crawling scrim found on his first solo disc. Four / four rhythms run throughout, littered with heavily processed samples and the occasional sitar riff, the standout being “Family War Funding (Love Those Rothschilds).” It’s slightly reminiscent of the sharp angles of Volta’s Deloused and even manages to hearken parts of ATDI’s seminal Relationship of Command.

Where Old Money fails is that it cannot stand independent of its maker. The album needs Rodriguez-Lopez for legitimacy and name recognition; without him, it’s just another rad album released by a knob-fiddler
—David Tow

Modern Rifles
I Was Young, it Was Dark
(Self-released)
*8.8*
Goes well with: Drive Like Jehu, Fugazi, Against Me!

Modern Rifles could be seen as a bastardized byproduct of a legendary San Diego punk scene that had national influence on bands like Against Me! and Rise Against. But to jump to that conclusion only means that you’re familiar with the subject matter: distorted, scattered riffage and pounding drums mixed with a steady stream of shout / sing vocals.

Sure, that formula’s been done to death, but if Modern Rifles’ self-released debut proves anything, it’s that the quartet deserves to be mentioned in the same sentence as any band making a similar racket, legendary or otherwise. They play around with varying punk sub-genres, from the Fugazi-esque posturing on the double-punch of “Lie to Me, Ian, Lie to Me” and “Feck Me if I’m Wrong” to the mature, Jimmy Eat World-type pop savvy of “Kip Winger” and “Say a Prayer to St. Happenin’.”

The songs might not grab you right away, but given some time, they’re as profound and memorable as anything else in the scene. Modern Rifles may wear their influences on their frayed sleeves, but they’re as aggressive and as catchy as any local band to come around in a long while. Their forefathers would be proud.
—Seth Combs

Modern Rifles play Friday, Jan. 30, at the Ken Club.