Apple, which recently bought the Lala music service that I so consistently use to supplement my musical hype digestion, is closing down the site. I say Boo-urns. Lala was a great way to get a single, full sampling of a song or album, to see if you dig a band's vibe and are ready to make to the necessary emotional and financial investment.
So you'll be seeing a lot more YouTube links on the site.
Timbaland is not cool anymore. His last couple albums have been big on hype and low on return, save for a quality single or two, like Shock Value's played-out "Apologize (ft. One Republic)" and "Way I Are (ft. Keri Hilson)." This, of course, curbing the massive cred he earned in 2006 sculpting Justin Timberlake ("My Love," "LoveStoned") and Nelly Furtado ("Say It Right," "Promiscuous"), as well as his prudent finagling onto M.I.A.'s much-loved Kala ("Come Around").
Drake isn't very cool either, so "Say Something" mostly works. Timbaland mugs his way throughout, taking the music world about as serious as a music producer veteran predictably should; Drake tries too hard, but it's endearing in a way. He's no Kanye or Weezy, and he'll never be, but he and T.I. can respectfully hang out in the second tier.
Los Campesinos! made two of the best albums of 2008: their visceral debut Hold on Now, Youngster... and the nearly-equal follow-up faux-EP We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed. My first thought: prolific, anyone?
It's not surprising then that their one-year hiatus produced the 15-track barrage Romance is Boring, which overflows with (dark, provocative, often elegant, often comical) ideas. Most of the experimentation pays off (like killer opener "In Medias Res"), just watch out for those that fall flat (the raw ra-ra of "Plan A"). And don't expect a smooth ride.
Los Campesinos! have two dimensions to their alluring madness: words and temperment.
I'm not arguing that it all makes sense, but how can you argue against lines like "I'm leaving my body to science/Not medical but physics," "I think we need more post-coital and less post-rock," "Said I'd gone deaf/But I'd heard everything they said/It's just I had no interest," and even the album's titular "romance is boring."
This all might sound pretentious on paper, or if it were strewn over an acoustic guitar (check the song titles, e.g. "This Is a Flag. There Is No Wind"). Not a problem: they tie this sensible nonsense to a fitting high-energy constitution. The result: Another great effort from on of music's most interesting and compelling outfits.
To be clear, I heard Nirvana's paradigmatic Nevermind in its entirety during my formative elementary and middle school years. But I never owned it. And I'd never revisited it since. Until recently.
"Smells Like Teen Spirit" was an impossible song to escape growing up, and it remains a stellar opening track, forever bound to its hazy, too-cool-to-fit-in music video (although watch out for the throaty non-sequitur "A mullato/An albino/A mosquito/My libido/Hey...Yay," which has become somewhat cringe-worthy with age). Other memorable singles from my youth now invoke a range of responses, from eternal admiration ("Come As You Are") to mood-dependent appreciation ("In Bloom") to acquired indifference ("Stay Away").
The biggest surprises are the ones I wasn't ready for at the time: the downtempo depravity of "Polly" and the phemonenal closer "Something in the Way" ("it's okay to eat fish 'cause they don't have any feelings"). Over the years, the ennui has translated a lot better than the angst, and this is indeed Nirvana's lasting message. Nevermind's statement, convoluted through years of hype and pop cultural progression, and dampened by its epochal grunginess, remains a uniformly potent codification of suburban distopia.
Amazing, huh? Three actors of this caliber all recording a song together!
I kid, I kid. The best Jamie Foxx song since Kanye's "Gold Digger" collab, and the best Justin Timberlake track since "Dick in a Box," and the best T.I. song since, well, T.I. actually doesn't seem to be trying that hard here. Actually, the whole thing is about one level above mediocrity; the bland boasting-to-one-in-particular of "Cause I'm a winner/Yea I'm a winner" brings down an otherwise impressive production effort. It's what we in the business call a 'relative success.'
I was a huge fan of The Trials of Van Occupanther (outdoing the Decemberists at their own game in the same year, brilliant!). Which is why I was disappointed to hear recent critical intimations of a sophomore drop-off.
The Courage of Others is surely a much weaker narrative than the Van Occupanther, feeling like a regular 'ol hipster prog-folk record instead of an amazing and lush PBS mini-series set to sound. The visions here are more lulling, and the musical accompaniment more heavy-footed (check out the plodding "Small Mountain" if you need evidence). The most captivating presence is the bare-bones "Acts of Man," which carries a patient urgency and epic-ness that Midlake have historically made the norm.
If you are in the mood for wooze, look no further. Beach House have crafted a memorizing, drifting current somewhere between the Potomac and the Milky Way.
Yet, I was also surprised by the density and velocity of the album, which confidently swells and hastens between the more lovely, lucid meanderings. Sometimes these surprises take the form of entire songs, like the mind-melting "Norway" and the bouncy, nostalgic picnic "Used to Be."
The album is a lullaby, built around longer tracks that take time to create their texture, which is both Teen Dreams strength and weakness. This is one of those albums that might be best appreciated alone. Or with a few couch-bound friends.
In honor of the legendary and perpetually undervalued MC, I've compiled a list of my top 5 Gang Starr tracks:
5) "Rite Where U Stand (ft. Jadakiss)" - Guru could make aggressive and even violent narratives feel like appropriate glimpses into a life far different from the dominant suburban conception of America.
4) "She Knowz What She Wants" - You may not like everything he has to say ("Never fall victim to a chicken you was stickin'/Even if you think the punanny might be finger-lickin"), but you've got to admit there's a thoughtfulness and complexity here very rare in the rap world.
3) "Full Clip" - Guru's balance between (seemingly) genuine thuggeryand clever lyrical constructs are on complete display with lines like"so that's all for you I'm wiping out your whole team/I'll splatter your dreams with rhymes to shatter your schemes."
2) "Code of the Streets" - There's no chorus here, just a relentless and hypnotic beat by DJ Premier and Guru's urban commandments.
1) "Moment of Truth" - Straight up street preachin' over an epic string arrangement. "Nobody's invincible no plan is foolproof/We all must meet our moment of truth."
Bonus: Blue Sky Black Death - "Floor Chalk (Best Reprise) (ft. Guru & Chief Kamachi)" Some pretty epic production from the hip hop underground.
Look at this gangster-lookin' Pee Wee Herman. Check out the pic on his Wikipedia too.
Funny thing is, I knew Kevin Rudolf looked like this (white and douche-y) when I first listened to "I Made It." Ditto the even more pronounced 'middle-school-dance-party-jam-with-Lil'-Wayne-saying-really-dirty-things-anyway-because-he's-Lil'-Wayne' of last year's "Let It Rock."
Hanging out with Weezy and gang makes you cooler by default, sure. But they can't save you, Mr. Rudolf. And it's obvious from your music.
This song has definitely questioned my non-believer status. I used to think Drake was some nobody Lil' Wayne picked up because he did a pretty good Lil' Wayne impression without overshadowing.
But given Weezy's relative absence this year, this is going to be the radio pop song to top in 2010.
Side question: Does the really lame video (and the implicit uncoolness it reveals) make Drake's brand of culturally relevant pop music more or less appealing? Discuss.
One of the best fits for the otherwise potentially confusing pairing of James Mercer (of The Shins fame) and producer Dangermouse is their emphasis on concise album structures. This ten-song set clocks in under the forty minute mark, like much of each of their previous releases. It's a great way to test out a new sound, an odd hybrid of the 2010 variety, and to see if another collaboration should be sought down the road.
"The Ghost Inside" has the most Dangermouse in it, and succeeds, while "Vaporize" is the most Shins-like, and also succeeds. Broken Bells, combining the strengths of each artist in interesting if unambitious ways, is a thoroughly enjoyable experience.
I like the satire of the first third (Hot Chip as boy band? Hilarious!) more than the chaotic second third and the inane third third. Makes you remember how many albums they could sell if they were more marketable and wanted to be more marketable.
Don't get me wrong, I'll be on board when Yeasayer release their follow-up to the uber-frustrating Odd Blood. This band has a knack for songcraft, buried here amongst a host of drivel, peeking out like daisies through cracked suburban sidewalks.
In fact, I'll probably be listening to "O.N.E." until the die I day (at least once a year, maybe more, forever). I think I've finally figured out why that song is so contagious. Every breakdown until the last is a perfect tease, suckering you back full-fledged into the hyberbolic keyboard anthem, and making the real breakdown at the end that much more rewarding. Let's just say the rest of the album can't keep up.
The drop off to "Ambling Alp" is noticeable but not disastrous. Ditto the next drop off to "Madder Red" and "I Remember." And then comes the abyss. Nothing else feels cohesive, compelling, innovative, or built from talented hands. In fact, the rest of the album is sloppy and faux-artsy.
If you're looking for something spacey, seductive, and infectious, you've found a great option with Lindstrom & Christabelle. "Lovesick" and "Music in my Mind," are woozy drug-addled dancefloor anthems, "Baby Can't Stop" is (perhaps) the best Michael Jackson song he never made, while "High & Low" is the perfect comedown for the reckless bender that this album codifies.
My favorite go-to band when I'm in the need for manic eccentricity, Los Campesinos! return to the scene with this effortless piece of alt rock power pop. Great low-tech video too.
There's not a lot to dislike on Volume Two, the more polished follow-up to the still bizarre M.Ward-Zooey Deschanel pairing's 2008 debut. Admittedly, my fascination with doe-eyed Zooey gives her an initial congratulatory boost; but, hey, I can't say I'll be listening to any Scarlett Johansson serenades in the near future. It's clear that Zooey, given more room to roam around M.Ward's compositions than on the last effort, carries this album on talent, grace and innate charm.
Volume Two is all about pretending the last fifty years of music never happened. Smooth backing vocals, steady four-piece drum rhythms, and quaint, innocent yearnings make this entire journey feel like time travel. M.Ward provides most of the album's compelling wordsmithery, but nothing beats the old-fashioned cover "Gonna Get Along Without You Now." The perfect song for a cocky, springtime jaunt.
I'd never heard any of the (now legally prohibited) Final Fantasy, save for the Andrew Bird-esque "The Butcher." Heartland continues in the same vein, upping both the energy and the eccentricity of the string-heavy formula. "Lewis Takes Off His Shirt" is the pinnacle of the new sound, jittery and impassioned and uplifiting. For a swirlier effort, try "Keep the Dog Quiet"; for more subdued, seek "Lewis Takes Action."
You'd be remiss if you didn't think the chorus to the (overrated) Gucci Mane's "Lemonade" sounds a little hipster. Attention: Girl Talk. This is both a gift and a mandate: mix away. In the meanwhile, let Gucci slur along loopily, in anticipation of the youthful, multi-layered non-sequitor that pleases but never quite satiates: "Lemon in the shade with my feet up...lemon pepper wings and a freeze cup."
Beach House bring an impressive amount of energy and life to their latest Teen Dreams, but manage to maintain their trademark haze throughout. The bending warp of guitar wafting throughout "Norway" provides the essential uneasiness to an otherwise densely upbeat rhythm. The sound is entirely euphoric, like the drugs are finally kicking in.
Oh man, hip hop was due for a quality release. Sure, Raekwon, Mos Def and Brother Ali dropped some pretty impressive rap albums last year, Kid Cudi piqued some interest, and Wale didn't entirely disappoint. But Bk-One's Radio do Canibal mix combines the novelty of a mixtape with album-worthy production that is an entirely different manner of compelling.
There's not really a dominant theme here; Bk-One favors latin rhythms on the few interludes throughout, and on the impressive instrumental "Tema do Canibal," but the tendency only subtly invades much of the rest of the album. For instance, he favors a (Sean Connery era) 007 aesthetic for Slug's "Blood Drive," while providing a shadowy Spanish-tinged backdrop for the Brother Ali and Scarface duet "American Nightmare."
All of the MC's are near the top of their game, and Bk-One wraps into a tight, digestible package. The highlights are many, and the lulls are few.
Band: Gorillaz
Album: Plastic Beach
Sounds Like: Gnarls Barkley, Basement Jaxx, the other two Gorillaz albums that you own
Sub-sub Genre: Much-Anticipated Mainstream Hipster-Mixtape Hybrid
Essential Tracks: Rhinestone Eyes, Melancholy Hill
Plastic Beach is a beautiful, tumultuous world in which Lou Reed and Mos Def hang out all the time, the American public revels in buoyant inanity, and Snoop Dogg is the greatest rapper alive. Gorillaz have further established their presence in that saddeningly rare niche of simultaneous popular and critical success, alongside wonders like Radiohead and Pixar.
Damon Albarn's production is insanely crisp and contagious, particularly sparkling synth-pop gems like "Rhinestone Eyes," "Melancholy Hill" and "Some Kind of Nature." Plus, the album floats along on networking skills alone: almost every track has an interesting guest appearance, somehow stuffed together into the same 61 minutes. If anything, Plastic Beach suffers from a lack of cohesion to a greater extent than either Gorillaz or Demon Days, perhaps stemming from the lack of an interwoven captivating hip hop presence (Del and DOOM clearly outmatch this ragtag bunch). Setting aside the (commendable) experimentation-gone-awry, this album deserves a place on the same shelf as its two brilliant predecessors.
This 'track' from legendary Nigerian protest singer is jazzy and angry and smart. Check out Fela Kuti: Best of the Black President if you like this sound.
Man, this thing is muddled. Just a murky, repetitive mess.
Aesop Rock, I loved your last album. The production was amazing: eclectic, upbeat, and perfectly attuned to you unique stream-of-consciousness delivery. Whoever produced that album did a great job.
But I see you decided to go a different direction on this one.
An odd choice, to use the same thudding bass drum on every track, thus ensuring that this 20-track smorgasbord (about ten tracks too long) was both boring and unnecessarily brooding.
Slug and Murs, you also decided to bring your C-game, preferring generic first draft quality to your normally more polished narratives. Check out this laziness courtesy of Murs ("The Prize"): "We grew up in the same environment, shared the same spray paint and markers and shit/Now you lookin' for an early retirement because every day you hate on me you talk like a bitch/Scared the hell out you didn't I? Sitting with your girl on the couch watchin' You Tube/ Couldn't even look me in the eye, tried to play it off like 'what's up my dude?'" I guess it was one of those you-had-to-be there kind of stories.
Way too long. Way too sloppy. This duo just dropped a few notches in my book.
Zooey Deschanel gingerly swaggers through "Gonna Get Along Without You Now," sounding like she's on her way to a picnic and she'll step all over you to get there. You pissed her off, so it's actually quite pleasant to her back on top of the world: ."uh huh (uh huh), hm hm (hm hm)/Gonna get along without you now."
Here's a link to the original (1952!) if that's more your style.
