Pick a Year

Alias
Angeles of Light
Capitol Years
The Clean
Crooked Fingers
Do Make Say Think
Earlimart
Elefant
Erlend Øye
Film School
The Fire Theft
Fruit Bats
Hella
His Son Elroy
Kid Dakota
Lali Puna
Larsen
Low Res
Milton Mapes





The Moore Brothers
Ms. John Soda
M. Ward
My Little Cheap Dictaphone
Nik Freitas
John O'Brien
Part Chimp
The Robot Ate Me
Rogue Wave
The Postal Service
Pothole Skinny
Puny Human
Revlon 9
Styrofoam
Shipping News
Shout! Comp
The Standard
The Starside 8
Summer at Shatter Creek




Film School

alwaysnever
Amazing Grease
2003

[09.03] Film School's first release, Brilliant Career, was essentially Krayg Burton's project, guested by amongst others Scott Kannberg (of Pavement and Preston School of Industry fame). It was a dreamy and understated work. In fact, so understated that the reward only was forthcoming if you put effort into listening to it. After its release in 2001, the project grew into a band that infrequently performed in the San Francisco area, evolving their sound into what I could lazily refer to as Grandaddy-meets-Radiohead with Mogwai-like flourishes. Having seen a few of their shows and watching the sound evolve, alwaysnever finds Film School asserting their own identity as a band.

alwaysnever captures a few of the songs that have been part of Film School's recent live repertoire. The first track starts with a moaning synth that repeats its one note, barely deviating from that one note throughout the song. As the bassline builds and Burton's vocals enter, the song turns into a beautiful lullaby. The second track, "Activated," features a bassline reminiscent of Pinback on valium. Continuing the languishing and atmospheric sound of the first track, but building to a gentle crescendo, Burton's brittle falsetto barely clings on to the meandering melody. "P.S." is in my mind the stand-out. In fact, it is almost the perfect summer pop song. Light as feathers, and just damn pretty, the song is just about the best sun-kissed slab of melancholy I've heard in a long while. The track builds beautifully, but remains oh-so-restrained, as the guitars only grow slightly angry. The closer starts with plaintive piano, but quickly builds into a gently surging guitar-driven piece that defines what Film School is about: slightly sad, defined, yet understated beauty. —Nils