Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of St. Louis's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Riverfront Times

National Features >

  • SF Weekly

    Turning the Tables

    "Hey, Mr. Deejay: Bend over and spread 'em."

    By Lois Beckett

  • City Pages

    Big Farma

    Meet the Minnesotans who receive federal subsidies for not growing anything.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Village Voice

    Rent-a-Wreck

    We begin our countdown of New York's Ten Worst Landlords.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    The Grow House Murder

    The sweet smell of ganja was a dead giveaway. So was the dead body in the freezer.

    By Gail Shepherd

Homespun: B&E

We Regret Everything (self-released)

Share

  • rss

By Christian Schaeffer

Published on February 13, 2007 at 9:45pm

The "B&E" in the name refers to principles Brendan Corcoran and Eammon Azizi, who started as an acoustic duo performing at local taverns. We Regret Everything is the product of a five-piece band, but the songs keep the open, strummy nature of those performances. The drums are light and loose, bell-like keyboards float in the distance, and the occasional electric-guitar lead adds a focal point to these sometimes-shapeless songs. The music is good — poppy, a little gritty — and there are traces of the Hold Steady's Craig Finn in Corcoran's adenoidal scream and spit-fire delivery; the final track, "Time Capsule 2006," in fact, accurately apes Finn's street poetry, with kids maxing out on over-the-counter medicine and religious dogma. But while Corcoran's elastic yelp makes Everything stand out — and in general this is almost always a good thing — there are moments on the album where his affectations sound like an act, as his speak-singing becomes catatonic.

Still, We Regret Everything is promising. Witness the centerpiece "Pop Rox," a great two-minute song about summer love gone sour. Handclaps and shouted back-up vocals make it resemble a Jonathan Richman outtake, but in the place of the latter's childlike optimism lies smirking bitterness. The smart money is on B&E making the leap from happy-hour entertainers to a full-on rock band. Corcoran just needs to remember that on a CD, you don't have to shout to be heard over the din of the drunks at the bar.
Christian Schaeffer

Want your CD to be considered for a review in this space? Send music c/o Riverfront Times, Attn: Homespun, 6358 Delmar Boulevard, Suite 200, St. Louis, MO 63130. Email music@riverfronttimes.com for more information.