I was definitely nervous about getting into the Fuck Button's Tarot Sport. All I knew was that it was an electronica album with a lot critical acclaim, a.k.a. an album with the potential to cross over into "we call it music but it's really about pushing boundaries" territory.
There's definitely a little bit of that here (I played "Rough Steez" on my radio show on a whim, which didn't help), but the majority is about displaying dense and textured grooves. Opener "Surf Solar" is fairly spectacular, building a warble of waves and lazerbeams into a pummeling epic straight out of an artsy European version of The Fifth Element. "The Lisbon Maru," "Olympians," and "Flight of the Feathered Serpent," if similarly constructed, are all still worthy of their nine-plus minute running times.
If you have a keen eye for bold electronic music, in which the prime focus isn't to make your friends think your taste in music sucks, then look no further than Tarot Sport.
DJ Responsible's Picks: "Surf Solar,' "Flight of the Feathered Serpent"
An outstanding and original cover of an absolutely outstanding and original song. I'm not going to lie, if I were an artist, I wouldn't have the imagination nor courage to cover a song as recent and well-regarded as Animal Collective's "My Girls." But hey, she pulls it off. Leave it to the Swedes.
She also does a respectable take on my favorite Guns N' Roses song, "Sweet Child O' Mine."
Talk about universal acclaim. Everybody with any reasonable credentials took their place in line to suckle at the teet of Raekwon and his concept album some fourteen years in the waiting. Built for Cuban Linx...Pt.2, although not brilliant, does contain enough highlights from enough talent to make it worthy of at least a fair share of the suckling.
Raekwon is an impressive storyteller, never one to waste a line, in the vein of his accomplice and cover art partner Ghostface Killah. At his best, he feels like he's defining the rap genre, in particular two hazy, thickly woven street anthems: the endearing ODB-tribute "Ason Jones" (with an amazing beat swooped from Wale's "The Star") and the eerie calm of "Black Mozart," which also features the best guest verse on the album from Wu-Tang also-ran Inspectah Deck ("Like Friday night cruise in the coup, new Velour suit/Fruit-flavored kicks takin' flicks out in 40 deuce"). The second half is full of these urban insights Hollywood would love to steal and sell back to the masses: "Canal Street," "Ason Jones," "Have Mercy" and "10 Bricks" is a particularly strong four-song set.
Ghostface is not at the top of his game here, generally sounding lazy and immature ("I'm like Urlacher, beasting at the top of the pile/Laying niggas in the nuts, damn I'm foul)," especially his many descriptions of elicit sex acts (you can imagine your own lyrics). However, this gives Raekwon plenty of room to cover the more compelling "so detailed how could it not be true" exploits of the coke-crack dealing game, as on one of the few shorter, conceptual tracks "Pyrex Vision" ("The Pyrex is bubblin', the stove is broke, fuck it/Use the flame from the oven"). Method Man kills it as always ("House of Flying Daggers" and "New Wu").
Production-wise, check out the Elton John-sampling "Kiss the Ring" for a potential novelty that actually grows more substantive with every listen.
If you can stomach the harshness of the Wu-Tang sensibility--drugs, chauvanism and murder--there's a lot for you here. And I mean A LOT (over seventy minutes!). If not, Built for Cuban Linx...Pt.2 isn't really going to change your mind. It's definitely not the best hip hop album of 2009--that honor goes to Mos Def--but you might want to seek out a little of the best stuff here for when the cool Brooklynite cousins come to visit.
This song only really needs the first verse, because the rest just sort of drifts off into, well, non-R. Kelly territory. Seriously, I think now that he's finished his Trapped in the Closet series (or has he?), every one of his songs has that wondrous hint of unabashed absurdity. His verses feel impeccably real and honest, and yet simultaneously blunt and child-like. There are very few artists willing to sentimentalize a white picket suburban lifestyle built on the foundation of a single beautiful ass in a nightclub.
R. Kelly takes tired, sentimental R&B themes and makes them brilliantly specific and self-serving. The earnestness is hilarious when he says: "And when you need a break/I'll let you up/I'll let you breathe/Wash your face/Get something to eat/And come back to the bedroom."
Mew need to diversify their sound. Or densify. Or ossify.
If I had to describe No More Stories... in a word, it would have to be digestible. Maybe palpable. Accessible. Manila.
Here's what works: "Beach" is a great, great tune, full of confidence and spirit; I'm surprised I didn't see this on at least one year-end list. Softy "Silas the Magic Car" is like adult contemporary Minus the Bear, in a good way, while "Cartoons and Macreme" endeavors for the grandiose, and gets respectably close. Most of the others, especially the upbeat first four, don't work so well.
In the end, all that's left is a feeling that this would've made a really good EP.
