Rob Cantor

Sometimes I wish I had talent.

I'd like to think that I have a talent for spotting talent, but that is the lowest form of talent. I'm basically a talent leech. And worst of all, that would make my 'talent' objective. So I'd really only be seen as 'talented' to a very small minority of people who share my tastes.

BUT Rob Cantor, bro? Today, I'm going to fucking leech on to his talent like the untalented asshole I am. This shit-head is my host for the day and his shpechial talent (as discovered by mwahhh) is song writing.

Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.

It's my opinion that the best song writers are a sponge for influences and inside these sponge fibers they adapt to, reconfigure and purge out output like they invented sliced bread. If you take a trip through music history you'll probably notice this trait in your favorite artists. BUT the VERY best songwriters are somehow able to enlarge their scope of influence, pack it into a vast sack of awesome and expose them in small subtle bits. They trick your ears into thinking you've heard a song before, even though you are really hearing it for the very first time.

Deep down we are creatures of habit. And as much as that hipster devil on your shoulder says that you must like music that is 'new' or 'unique'.......you really like shit that is recognizable. We are all fucking Pavlov's dog....something in the music we like it triggering our good vibes and we are programmed to like it. Bands may hide this trigger better or are more creative in how they present it, but use it both intentionally and unintentionally.

Sooooooo, when I first heard Rob Cantor's album Not A Trampoline I pondered about his vast sack (Wait, that sounded bad...you know what I mean though) because I HEAR SO MUCH SHIT IN ROB CANTOR'S SONGS. I swear this shit-brick was channeling my music collection during his writing sessions for this album.

For example: 'Old Bike'. It's hard not to compare the whimsical and obvious pedaling theme to 'Bicycle Race' by Queen. After the first chorus you are already forced to sing along: 'HUMDIDIDI, HUMDIDIDI, HUMDIDIDI, HUMDIDIDI' and then he breaks into some overdriving and warm power chords, a technique taken directly from the Weezer playbook, AND THEN the vocals take on a robotic auto-tuned vibe ala Daft Punk AND THEN he adds some backing gospel runs to give you the goosies.

HOLY FLAMBOYANT HOMOSEXUAL w/ BAD TEETH WEARING A CARDIGAN SWEATER DANCING LIKE A ROBOT IN CHUCRH, BRO!!!

I know what you are thinking based on my description. It's like adding all your favorite sodas together in one large cup at Burger King. In theory it sounds amazing, but the end result just tastes like sugar and immaturity. BUT Rob Cantor is able to avoid this. He's like the Wolfgang Puck of the soda fountain...finding a perfect balance to create an uniquely sublime concoction. And while you're left slurping on that straw in astonishment, all the you can think is: whoaaaa, how did he do that???'

And even more remarkable is each song is a new experience. Each one has a different taste. Each one has a different mood. And each one has a new set of 'familiar sounds' that sends your brain running picking out influences...you'll think:

• This 'Ghost' track sounds like M83
• 'Garden of Eden' is giving me a strange urge to dial 867-5309 on a rotary phone.
• The chorus of 'Rendezvous' has a Naked and Famous kinda steez.
• That flasetto in 'Perfect' is so Brian Wilson-y

I could go on and on, but then I'd spoil the game for you. And to me, that is what listening to Not A Trampoline is: a fun game.

A fun game with a wicked-ass soundtrack.