Hair Band Throwdown!

In a bit of a departure from the record reviews, I’m going to write about a mix CD I made recently that I’m very proud of. (Hopefully, this will not disappoint any of my millions of readers.)

Chee-Zee 80s Rock
or
A Journey from Europe to Asia

1. Danger on the Track - Europe
2. Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) – Journey
3. Turn up the Radio – Autograph
4. Never – Moving Pictures
5. The Stroke – Billy Squier
6. Cherry Pie – Warrant
7. In My Dreams – Dokken
8. Heat of the Moment – Asia
9. Working for the Weekend – Loverboy
10. Cherokee – Europe
11. Don’t Stop Believin’ – Journey
12. You’re the Voice – John Farnham

The inspiration for this CD came from two sources:
1. an online essay about the most inspirational songs of the 1980s (thanks, JC): http://www.cracked.com/article_15636_10-most-terrifyingly-inspirational-80s-songs.html
2. the soundtrack to the movie Hot Rod. For those of you who didn’t see it (and I think that’s just about everyone), Hot Rod is the inspirationally hilarious story of a hapless wannabe stuntman/daredevil. Even though the film is set in the present day, the music is predominantly hair bands from 1986. Righteous.

I have to say, I was a little wary of collecting this much wanky cock rock in one place. It’s really potent, powerful stuff. I think critical mass of this sort of music is about 10 minutes, and I’ve assembled an album nearly an hour long. I grew a rat-tail just putting it together. Definitely do not let pregnant women handle the CD. Or any especially fertile women. Like I said, this is strong stuff, and I don’t want any lawsuits.

Some of the songs were included because they’re awesome (“Danger on the Track”), some because they’re ridiculously awful (“Never”), and some because they are both (“Cherokee”). But all the songs rock in that pop-metal, how-preposterous-were-the-80s kind of way. And if you’re still curious how preposterous the 80s were, here’s another link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxxOyGK1pMk

The Fratellis – Costello Music

I stumbled onto the Fratellis’ single “Chelsea Dagger” back in March or April. I think it was mentioned in a music article on Slate online. I fell for the raucous barroom sing-along feel, and I wound up using it in a mix CD I put together in May. I was curious to see what they would do with a whole album.

Thankfully, Costello Music is more of the same. Unlike most of the music coming out of England, there isn’t a trace of the New Wave Revival here. There aren’t synthesizers, and there are no nods to the pop of the 80s. Instead, the record sounds as though it was designed to be played on a pub jukebox on Friday night. Rocking with energy and pace, rather than power chords and hair spray, the Fratellis seem to care more about enjoying themselves than making art. This is a fun record.

My favorite track is “For a Girl,” simply because I’m a sucker for a good melody, but “Flathead” and “Everybody Knows You Cried Last Night” are also standouts. Really, though, there aren’t any bad songs, and the album sounds pretty terrific straight through.

Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings – 100 Days, 100 Nights and Naturally

I learned of Sharon Jones because she was involved in some bogus “feud” with Amy Winehouse and Mark Ronson because they’d “stolen” her band, the Dap Kings. I loved the sound of Mark Ronson’s work on his own album and Winehouse’s, so when I discovered that the Dap Kings were responsible for a lot of that sound, it didn’t take me long to find these albums.

Playing with Sharon Jones, the Kings’ sound is really something special. The production is clean, without being glossy, and you can really hear each instrument. The Kings play wonderfully together, and Jones has a classic soul voice that adds a lot to the mix.

The only drawback is the songwriting. The lyrics and melodies of many of these songs can’t match the energy, feel, and emotion that Sharon and the Kings are putting into them. That is why, I think, there aren’t many songs, and several of them are covers. (Another reason for the shorter track listing is a conscious effort to evoke the look and feel of LPs from the late 60s and early 70s.)

Songwriting aside, there are some very good songs here. On Naturally, the 1-2 punch of “How Do You Let a Good Man Down” and “Natural Born Lover” is pretty stellar. “How Long Do I Have to Wait for You” is another favorite of mine. On 100 Days, 100 Nights, there are fewer funk workouts, and one abominable duet (“Tell Me”) that’s the only track on these two albums I have to skip. But the record also contains a few gems in “Something’s Changed” and the title track. Better still, the record comes with a Daptone Records sampler CD hosted by someone named Binky Griptite. It’s almost an hour long, and it’s great. A little uneven, but great.

I can’t wait to pick up their first record, Dap-Dippin’ with Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. Soul Power!

Queens of the Stone Age – Era Vulgaris

Ugh. Not impressed.

I own Songs for the Deaf, which I really like in spite of the terrible radio station skits. I passed on buying Lullabies to Paralyze because Nick Oliveri left the band and Dave Grohl (my favorite aspect of Deaf) wasn’t involved either. It didn’t help that the record got mixed reviews. I was excited, then, when most of the reviews I read raved about Era Vulgaris. The Queens’ brand of hard rock is out of fashion right now, and there’s hardly anyone doing it well, so this record was coming at the perfect time. (I must admit that playing “No One Knows” repeatedly on Guitar Hero 1 might also have primed me for the release of this album.

But it’s just a bunch of noise. Josh Homme can still play guitar really well, and his band plays some intimidating passages, but there isn’t a song on the album. Compare it to Deaf, which had “Hanging Tree,” “First It Giveth” and others in addition to the awesome singles “No One Knows” and “Go With The Flow.” Each of these was a song I could hum. There’s only one song like that on Era Vulgaris, and it’s “Make It Wit Chu.” Sorry, Queens. Not good enough.

Justice – Cross

I heard about Justice from my friend Kevin, who heard about them from an old Casa Italiana friend of ours, Sarah Gluckstern. I bought the song “Newjack” on iTunes and liked it. Then Justice started getting all sorts of hipster press. They’re a pair of scruffy French guys, who can’t be more than 23 years old. It sounds like a perfect backstory for an indie dance/electronic duo.

The album doesn’t quite measure up, though. Much like Kanye West’s new album, the record is frontloaded with all the good songs, and the back half of the album is a real chore. On the other hand, the opening 5 or 6 tracks are fantastic. Justice’s signature sound consists of some vocal samples, a great drum track, and a bassline all hacked to pieces and assembled like a collage. The end result sounds like a robot symphony. Or like the house DJ at a bar in Blade Runner’s dystopic future Los Angeles. It’s reminiscent of Daft Punk, with their commitment to melody and guitars (or at least guitar-sounding synths), but it’s harder and more ominous. If this sounds interesting, you owe it to yourself to check out “Newjack,” “Genesis,” “D.A.N.C.E.” and “Phantom.”

Spoon – Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga

I bought Spoon’s 2005 album Gimme Fiction after hearing the slyly funky “I Turn My Camera On” at a friend’s house. That album was taut, muscular and spare. I was surprised by Spoon’s serious commitment to rhythm. The tempo was always locked-in, and the arrangements used empty space to highlight the steady pulse. The record rocked without being hard or heavy. It took a few spins, but it turned out to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Spoon’s new release, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, follows the same blueprint. This time, they’ve incorporated horns to some songs, with awesome results. The throwback “Got Yr Cherry Bomb” evokes classic 60’s Phil Spector or Motown with horns, tambourine, and an organ. “The Underdog” and “Finer Feelings” also sound—dare I say it—joyful. That’s not to say I don’t like the other songs. There’s not a weak track in the bunch, and I look forward to many repeat listens.

Kanye West – Graduation

Kanye’s Late Registration came out two days after I moved to LA, and it was the first record I bought here. (This was, incidentally, the same day New Orleans flooded in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.) So a new release from Kanye is cause for some personal reflection. Kanye seemed to be thinking the same thing, as Graduation is packed with his self-evaluations as a producer, rapper and star. It’s a shame it isn’t a better album.

Maybe my expectations are too high, as the record has several no-doubt-about-it singles and some great moments. The sterling “Good Life” is one of the former, with a can’t-miss sample from Michael Jackson’s “P.Y.T.”. Singer T-Pain adds his wonderful talkbox/vocoder shtick, which is a lot of fun to imitate. (Who doesn’t love talking like a robot?) Another standout is “Champion,” which includes a great patios sing-along section.

But the album suffers in comparison to his prior efforts, especially in the (even more) introspective second half. Honestly, Kanye isn’t good enough as a rapper to overcome tepid production. In the past, that hasn’t been a problem, as his songs typically overflow with full-bodied soul samples and original instrumentation. But starting with track 7, “Barry Bonds,” the album gets real dull real quick. The production gets minimal and experimental, and it’s just no fun to listen to. The worst of the bunch is “Drunk and Hot Girls,” which combines a terrible beat with an unfortunate rhyme pattern. Most egregiously, it wastes an appearance from commander cool Mos Def. Come to think about it, I’m not sure I remember hearing him at all. Unforgiveable.

Mark Ronson – Version

I’ve been a fan of Mark Ronson since I heard “Oooh Wee” a few years ago. That was a hall-of-fame hip-pop song that surprisingly few people are familiar with. Based on that song, I cherry-picked his first album, Here Comes the Fuzz, on iTunes. Later, I discovered he’d produced songs for Nikka Costa and Robbie Williams.

Suddenly, this spring, his work was everywhere. He’s responsible for the amazing sound of Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black and for lots of Lily Allen’s Alright, Still. Also, a pre-release track from this album was floating around. So I was excited to get my hands on this one.

I am not remotely disappointed. The sound Ronson settled on is similar to what we heard on Back to Black, but with a stronger hip-hop feel (even though only one track has any rapping). The result is a sharply rhythmic funk, with lots of horns and guest artists.

A cover of Radiohead’s “Just” is a standout track, as is Amy Winehouse’s contribution, “Valerie.” My personal favorite is the cover of Britney Spears’ “Toxic”, which features a filthy verse from the late, great ODB. “Old Man Dirt get under your skirt, fuck the pussy ‘til it’s orange like Ernie & Bert.” Nuff said.

Arctic Monkeys – Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not

OK, this record has been out for a while, and I’m sure if you were going to buy it, you’ve bought it already. But if you’re an alternative rock fan that likes the direction rock has gone this decade and you haven’t bought this album, here’s a tip: you should probably buy this album.

While nearly every song has an element I dislike (a tempo change, an out-of-place chord, weird song structure), the songs are so alive and fresh it’s impossible not to like this record. I’ll admit, though, that I didn’t get it the first time through. If I concentrate on any one specific song, it’s underwhelming, but as a collection of songs, the Monkeys have produced an awesome document of life for drunken British twentysomethings circa late 2005.

I was also impressed with Alex Turner’s lyrics. He clearly enjoys writing and wordplay, which indicates to me that he’s got a lot to say. This bodes well for future Arctic Monkeys albums.

Thicke – A Beautiful World

My desire to purchase this record can be traced to Blake Lewis’ performance of “When I Get You Alone” on American Idol a few months ago. He turned in a pretty credible version, but it was the song itself that really grabbed me.

First of all, the song is not based on Beethoven’s 5th Symphony, as Ryan Seacrest stated, but rather on Walter Murphy’s “A Fifth of Beethoven”. (Anyone as familiar with the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack as I am—and after all, it’s the most popular soundtrack in history (25 million records sold)—probably noticed that funky bassline immediately. SNF is also graced with the ominously funky “Night on Disco Mountain”.) I hadn’t thought of “A Fifth of Beethoven” in much too long, and I was intrigued that someone else had written a song over the top of it.

Second, Robin Thicke is the son of actor Alan Thicke (dad Jason Seaver from Growing Pains), a fact of which he seems very aware. The lyrics of “Get You Alone” seem to confirm as much: “…does she want me to make a vow? On…my father’s last name?” I just thought it was interesting, because when Blake sang it, that lyric became completely meaningless. Anyway…

I knew the album would have a couple of good songs, but I thought it would be pretty uneven. I was wrong. While there are one or two songs I skip, this is a remarkably consistent debut, especially for a rich white kid singing R&B sex jams. Besides “When I Get You Alone,” I was transfixed by the sunny chorus and odd melody of “Brand New Jones” and by the lurching, two-note thump of “She’s Gangsta.” “Oh Shooter,” “The Stupid Things,” “Suga Mama,” and “Lazy Bones” are all strong songs as well.

What’s most striking about Thicke is the sincerity and forthrightness he brings to these songs. Unlike, say, Har Mar Superstar (who I adore unconditionally), the “let’s-knock-boots” ballads and funky dance workouts don’t seem like a put-on. Psychologically, he refuses to acknowledge that no one will take him seriously singing this music. And you know what? Because he took it so seriously, people are taking him seriously. Food for thought.

Redman – Whut? Thee Album

Wow. Red got slept on. Known better today as an actor in and embarrassing stoner movie and TV show, it’s easy to forget Redman was a nasty rapper back in the day. His delivery is forceful and energetic, enough so that he reminds me of Busta Rhymes. But unlike Busta, he never seems like he’s shouting, and his enthusiasm never gets in the way of his diction.

I like to judge MCs in several categories:
Lyrical content (The substance of the lyrics. This includes punchlines.)
Rhyming ability (The accuracy and consistency of the rhymes.)
Flow (How the words and syllables fall on or off the beat.)
Charisma (How engrossing is the MC? This can be through lots of energy (Busta), authority (Rakim), or cool confidence (Jay-Z).)
Vocal Quality (The actual sound of the rapper’s voice, the only category they have very little control over. This is why I hate KRS-1.)

By these rubrics, Redman is one of the best MCs ever. There’s not one category he lags in. His voice sounds great, and it’s in a middle register that’s easy to decipher. He’s forceful and energetic, as I mentioned above, which makes me want to pay attention to what he’s saying. His flow is solid, frequently emphasizing the 2 and 4 beats of every measure. His rhyming is consistent, and his lyrics are about pot, sex, and violence. What’s not to like?

My favorite tracks are “How to Roll a Blunt” (which is exactly what it sounds like) and “Blow Your Mind.” There’s a bunch of filler on this record, but it’s really long for a rap album (21 songs), so that’s not such a big deal. I’d say 10 of them are worth your time, but even the so-so songs are laced with P-Funk samples and dirty jokes. This is a party record, so if you cut out half the songs, your party will be half as long. A better move would be to hit ‘play’ and get drunk.

Ratatat - Classics & Ratatat

I saw Ratatat at Coachella on the advice of my good friend Josh (from Tapes N Tapes), and I’m glad I did. It’s two guitarists and a keyboard wizard, and they make instrumental video game trance music for stoners. And it’s awesome.

The one knock on Ratatat is that their songs are remarkably samey: mid-tempo drum machine beats covered with layers of repeated guitar lines and synth arpeggios. Rinse. Repeat. The formula works pretty well, though, so I suppose I can’t fault these guys for sticking with it.

My favorite song on either album is “Seventeen Years” from 2004’s Ratatat. After listening to both albums, it’s sort of the distillation of their sound. The guitar parts are loud and pleasantly fuzzy. I could play this for just about anybody. It’s hard to pick out individual songs, though, because both records play really well as complete albums. It almost helps to think of them as symphonies with 10 or 12 movements apiece.

Elvis Costello – My Aim Is True

I stumbled onto Elvis Costello only a few weeks ago. Until that point, I’d always assumed he was too punk, too experimental, or too idiosyncratic for my tastes. As it turns out, those labels can only be applied to his lyrics (if that). Musically, he’s a throwback, rearranging the first 20 years of rock history here into a dozen mostly terrific songs. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t find this record sooner.

The first song, “Welcome to the Working Week”, is a perfect way to open an album. It’s all handclaps and backup singers tucked behind an instantly catchy melody, and it’s over in 1 minute and 23 seconds. I’ve probably played this song 90 times since I bought the record a week ago. It’s so good, it prompted me to make an impromptu list of the best first tracks on debut albums. I came up with:
Guns N Roses – “Welcome to the Jungle” from Appetite for Destruction (obvious)
Boston – “More Than a Feeling” from Boston (undeniable)
Bloc Party – “Like Eating Glass” from Silent Alarm (anthemic)
Oasis – “Rock N Roll Star” from Definitely Maybe (audacious)
Weezer – “My Name is Jonas” from the blue album (nerdy)
Andrew W.K. – “It’s Time to Party” from I Get Wet (personal fave)

My buddy Kevin came up with a few more:
D’Angelo – “Brown Sugar” from Brown Sugar (freaky)
Interpol – “Untitled” from Turn on the Bright Lights (I’m not familiar with this one)
Massive Attack – “Safe from Harm” from Blue Lines (great)
U2 – “I Will Follow” from Boy (memorable)

“Working Week” belongs in this company.

Beyond the opening track, there’s plenty of good stuff here. “Alison”, “Less Than Zero”, and “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes” were the singles I’d heard of before I bought the CD, and they’re as good as advertised. But “Sneaky Feelings” and “Blame it On Cain” are stellar songs as well.

Besides the songwriting, I’m most impressed with Costello’s voice. His phrasing and improvisation sound like someone who’d been performing for years, rather than someone recording his debut record on the cheap during weekends and holidays. “Sneaky Feelings”, for example, has no discernable melody. The verse is simply Costello vamping. The notes are different from verse to verse, and he alters the rhythm, too. The end result is a song that’s basically impossible to sing karaoke.

Perhaps it’s not a huge surprise that I liked this album, as praise for it is nearly universal. It’s just odd to me that such a good album wouldn’t be more popular. Why haven’t I heard “Less Than Zero” on the radio? Maybe I wouldn’t have avoided his work for so long.

Amy Winehouse – Back to Black

I’m not sure what I can say about her that hasn’t been said already. She’s the hot belle du jour, and with good reason. Her stunning Back to Black is my favorite album of the year so far.

I think I first read about her in LA Weekly. I grabbed “You Know I’m No Good” off of iTunes not too long after that, then played it to death. This was a mistake for 2 reasons. First of all, “You Know” doesn’t quite fit, production-wise, with the rest of the songs on the album. I’d place its style as early-1970’s Euro-lounge, while the rest of the album hails emphatically from the 1960’s. As such, I got the wrong impression of the rest of the album, and I waited a month or so before buying it. Secondly, I overplayed “You Know” so badly that I got sick of it. It might be the best song on the album, but I generally skip it now.

My new favorite song on the album is “Tears Dry On Their Own,” which starts with orchestration lifted wholesale from Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”. Not that I mind. The song sounds great, and I like that producer Mark Ronson took a stab at the Motown sound. I’m also wildly impressed with “Love Is A Losing Game,” a gorgeous ballad that never gets boring, probably because it isn’t as slow as Ronson makes you think it is.

But all credit really must go to Ms. Winehouse, who sings the fuck out of these songs. It’s hard to picture any other singer of today or yesterday singing the opening lines of “Me & Mr. Jones” (“What kind of fuckery is this? / You made me miss the Slick Rick gig”). Yet she makes it sounds harsh, funny, and authentic all at once. Awesome.

Kings of Leon – Because of the Times

As my girlfriend’s uncle Todd said a few months ago about the Kings, “they have a sound, but they have no songs.” His assessment was spot-on. Their sound is distinctive and thrilling, but I’d be hard-pressed to name a particular song of theirs. And even if I could name a song or two, I couldn’t hum the tune. And even if I could hum the tune, I certainly don’t know the words. But as anyone who bought Aha Shake Heartbreak can tell you, that isn’t a huge problem. That album was one of my favorites of 2006 (it came out in late 2005, but I didn’t discover it until March) because it felt so goddamn REAL. They combined everything good about the Strokes (retro-simple melodies, good drumming, a fondness for guitar fuzz) with Southern soul and genuine emotion.

Their new album, Because of the Times, won’t help them in the song department. There isn’t a single here, and there isn’t even really a song that sticks in my head. But I thoroughly enjoyed this album anyway. With the exception of “Charmer”, which is rendered unlistenable by singer Caleb Followill’s grating scream that begins each line of the lyric, I liked every song. The album is darker, more brooding and introspective than Heartbreak, but it doesn’t suffer for it. The real growth here is in the vocals. On Heartbreak, I felt that the vocals were included just so that the songs wouldn’t be instrumentals; Caleb Followill’s voice was just another instrument. On Because, the songs seem tailored around his voice and lyrics, and he’s doing more with both. His voice is raspy (to the point that I picture him smoking 100 cigarettes at once,) and he uses that to good effect.

The best part is that I’ve liked the album more each of my 3 times through it. That’s always a good sign.

Mika – Life in Cartoon Motion

This is a pop album. Let’s get that out of the way now. If you’ve heard his single “Grace Kelly” you have some idea. If you haven’t, imagine an ice cream sundae. Now dump a bowl of sugar and some Laffy Taffy on top. The confections on this album are very sweet (almost saccharine) and are unpalatable if you’re not prepared for them. Also, too much isn’t good for you. (OK, I think I’ve driven this metaphor into the ground...)

I love this album. I love that Mika makes pop music unapologetically. I love his nothing-exceeds-like-excess production approach. I love his voice. (Apparently when Freddie Mercury died, the falsetto gods gave the pop half of his gift to Mika. Justin Hawkins of the Darkness got the rock half.)

I’m a little disappointed that “Grace Kelly” is the single that’s putting him on the map, however, as it’s my 3rd or 4th-favorite song here. “Relax (Take it Easy)” is my fave, even though it was already released as an underperforming single. The song reminds me of some 1990s Euro-clubby pop hit, but I can’t put my finger on it. My next favorite is “Lollipop”, which has a 60s throwback feel to it initially because the production is intentionally minimal. Interestingly, there’s no snare drum in this song, save for a few-measure coda toward the end. Supposedly, it’s a song warning his niece not to lose her virginity too soon, but it could be about elephants and silly putty. I also like the song “Big Girl (You Are Beautiful)” for how its clever song structure and relentless enthusiasm overcame my initial No Fat Chicks reaction.

This record isn’t for everyone, but give those songs a listen and see if they appeal to you. The rest of the album isn’t as wonderful – there are a few pretty ballads and some other filler tracks – but none of it sucks.

The Exploding Hearts – Guitar Romantic

Without the rough punk sound, the songs on this record would be ridiculously dopey. Just about every song is about love in its various stages, and most include lines that rhyme “girl” with “world” and “gone away” with “here to stay”. That said, I didn’t mind so much. Between the inventive melodies and jagged guitar fuzz, this record was a lot of fun.

Apparently (and I have no idea if this is true), the manager of the band called them “the best band in America” shortly before they crashed their tour van, killing three of the four band members. Of such provenance, rock legends are born, and I was sort of expecting the Exploding Hearts to be the greatest thing I’d never heard. They weren’t that, but they were an entertaining listen with at least 4 quality songs. I suspect they would have been fantastic live. Sadly, I’ll never know.

(FYI: The songs I liked were “Modern Kicks” and the very catchy “I’m a Pretender” which start the album, and “Sleeping Aides and Razorblades” and “Rumors in Town” which fall right at the midpoint of the record. The second pair of songs, especially, rocked my world.)

Pete Rock and CL Smooth – Mecca and the Soul Brother, The Main Ingredient

This golden age partnership released a demo EP in 1991 called All Souled Out, which was followed the same year by Mecca and a few years later by Ingredient. Then they parted ways. Pete Rock is still producing records, but CL Smooth has mostly disappeared. It’s a real shame, because they were a force together.

I was excited about Mecca because I knew “They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.)” as a certified b-boy classic from back in the day. Clearly, the rest of the album couldn’t be as good or “T.R.O.Y.” wouldn’t have been a standout track, but I was expecting the record to be a little stronger than it is. The production is great, but it not all the songs got my head nodding.

I wasn’t expecting as much from The Main Ingredient, and I was pleasantly surprised. This is the record I thought Mecca would be. Pete Rock’s drum track finds a heartbeat groove and doesn’t stop for 60 minutes. CL Smooth never sounds out of place or in over his head. There are simply no mistakes on this album. Whereas Mecca takes a lot of chances artistically (and pays for them, in my opinion), Ingredient isn’t as ambitious. It’s just about droppin’ that beat. Word.

OK Go – OK Go

A few months ago, I reviewed OK Go’s album Oh No, one of my favorite albums of 2006. (OK, technically it came out in 2005, but who was listening to it then?) This is the preceding (and debut) album, and while it’s interesting to recognize some of the same style and bombast, it’s equally clear that Oh No was a huge leap forward for the band. This record is for fans only.

There are certainly songs I liked. “Get Over It” starts the album off really well. It sounds a lot like “No Sign of Life” and “Invincible” from Oh No. I also enjoyed the fun vocal delivery of “C-C-Cinnamon Lips”.

But in general, the songs are slower and longer than on Oh No. The band started to remind me of Fountains of Wayne or Spacehog. That is, smart pop, but without the rocket sauce. People who were attracted to the momentum and energy of Oh No will be disappointed.

Lupe Fiasco – Food & Liquor

Few debut MCs get the kind of praise that was showered upon Lupe Fiasco in 2006. Music critics couldn’t slurp this guy fast enough. “Here’s a young, talented rapper who’s not rapping about cocaine! Jackpot!” Some of it is warranted. I like that he’s a socially conscious Muslim. I like that he’s literate and articulate. I like that he’s only fleetingly associated with Kanye West (if only to prevent West from cornering the market on socially conscious hip-hop).

But you know what? I didn’t really enjoy the album. It even took me a few listens to like the single, “Kick, Push”. Appreciating this record just seems like work to me, and that’s not what I look for in music. I can tell that Lupe can rap. (He’s much better here than on Kanye West’s “Touch the Sky”, where I hated his verse before I knew who he was.) He creates some complex structure and internal rhymes in his lyrics. He’s definitely skilled. It just isn’t, for lack of a better word, fun.

For example, certain people claim that James Joyce’s Ulysses is a work of staggering genius and possibly the best book ever written. But it’s so appallingly dense and obtuse that only a few people ever read it. What good is it that you wrote the best book ever, if you can only share it with a handful of dorks with the patience and resources to appreciate it?

Now, clearly, Food & Liquor is not Ulysses. It’s not so opaque as to be completely impenetrable, and it’s probably not the best record ever. But the same problem plagues this record. If I need to listen to this record another 4 times, paying strict attention, in order to appreciate it, is it worth it? Maybe I’m lazy, maybe I have a short attention span, maybe I have a philosophical aversion to Great Art, but I say no. For my money, Fishscale was the best hip-hop album of 2006. Even if I’m uncomfortable (and fascinated) by Ghostface Killah’s depictions of violence and drug trafficking, the music is more urgent, organic, and accessible.

Superdrag – In the Valley of the Dying Stars

I’m in love with Superdrag’s 1996 album Regretfully Yours. I bought it as a teenager for the “buzz” single “Who Sucked Out the Feeling?” and immediately put it on infinite repeat. The album is a power-pop masterpiece from an era that neglected that sort of music. It’s dense with hooks, and every song has at least one. Best of all, there’s a real commitment to melody. Predictably, Superdrag didn’t get much promotion and nobody bought the record. Nobody but me, that is. For a decade, I’ve been sneaking solitary tracks onto mixtapes I’ve made, secretly hoping someone would ask about them and I could share this record with another person.

Oddly, despite how much I adore Regretfully, I never looked for a follow-up until a few months ago. Based on my familiarity with their debut, I had high hopes for In the Valley of Dying Stars. It’s not as good as Regretfully Yours, but it’s a solid rock record. I found that after a few listens, I could sing along to parts I remembered, which is a good litmus test for power pop.
I will definitely seek out the other 2 albums they recorded since Regretfully Yours—A Head Trip in Every Key and Last Call for Vitriol.

Common – Like Water for Chocolate

The only song I really liked was “The Light”, which was the only song I already knew. Seems like the A&R guy that picked the single knew what he was doing. Forgettable.

The Hold Steady – Boys and Girls in America

One interesting distinction between popular music and books is that music is usually inward-oriented and books are not. The vast majority of songs are written from the singer’s perspective and deal with the singer’s feelings and relationships. The first several examples I can think of (and seriously, this took 5 seconds):
The Rolling Stones – “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction”
Stevie Wonder – “I Wish”
The Beach Boys – “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”
Cheap Trick – “I Want You To Want Me”
I could go on and on. I would guess that 95% of the popular music at any given time reflects this perspective, which makes sense if you think about it. Writing and performing a song is a very personal endeavor.

Books, by contrast, are “extrospective” as often as or more often than they are introspective. This is especially true for good books. While a rock songwriter might get away with detailing his love for a groupie for three and a half minutes, an author would be hard-pressed to do the same over 200 or 400 pages (the non-sex parts of romance novels being the notable exception). Books typically require more than one character, so unless an author has a good ear for how other people speak, and an eye for how they act, his writing will seem phony. Consequently, you see more books written from the “Third Person Omniscient” perspective than from the “First Person”. (And regardless of how often authors claim that even books written in the third person are very personal, or how often one of the characters is modeled after or is a stand-in for the author, that typically only applies to one of the several characters a book needs.)

This is essentially the distinction between poetry and prose. Song lyrics are poetry. They usually rhyme, they often employ metaphors and similes, and they have a particular meter (based on the rhythms of the songs they accompany).

This distinction is why Bruce Springsteen’s music interests me. His songs, even when they’re sung from his perspective, typically include other characters. Springsteen uses lines or even whole verses describing these characters and relating the experiences they’ve had. That sounds like exposition, a hallmark of prose. Take Springsteen’s song “Glory Days”, for example. This song is about how Bruce’s best days are behind him, but it’s more nostalgic than bitter. It’s not just about Bruce, however. Each verse has him meeting up with other characters, each with a past of their own.

Anyway, lots of the songs on this album are like that.

3rd Bass – The Cactus Cee/D

I had already downloaded two great songs from this album: “Sons of 3rd Bass” and “The Gas Face”, so I was excited that the rest of the album might be a treasure trove of late-80s white hip-hop goodness. It wasn’t. The rest of the album isn’t bad, it’s just not that great. For starters, there are skits or jokes in between every song. This means that the impressive-looking track listing on the back of the CD is half filler. I can’t wait to unclick those songs on my iTunes so they’ll never make it to my iPod. The tracks that are actual songs are pretty respectable, but the production is a little lazy, and the two rappers never drop any really memorable lines. One thing I kept hearing was when the producer used two different samples in the same song, and they were just a little out of tune with one another. That has always bothered me. (Notorious B.I.G.’s “Unbelieveable” comes to mind.) It’s something you rarely hear today, because the ProTools wizard on hand will fix it with a computer.

The bottom line: this CD is reassuring proof that pre-Eminem white rappers weren’t all lame-ass Vanilla Icicles. There are 3 or 4 solid songs. It’s worth cherry-picking them song-by-song on iTunes.

Average White Band – AWB

Previously on this blog, I reviewed the Average White Band album Cut the Cake. I thoroughly enjoyed that record. This record, AWB, was released only a year prior to Cut the Cake, but it simply doesn’t compare.

Too often on this record, the band sounds over-produced. It’s too slick. It reminded me of Chicago. For a funk band, to be mistaken for easy listening/lite rock/elevator music is a serious problem. The main problem seems to be the vocals. Singer Alan Gorrie is trying to do too much with his voice, the lead vocal is too prominent in the mix, and the lyrics are pretty inane. Here’s a sample from “Person to Person”, a song about how badly Gorrie misses his lady when he’s on the road and how their long-distance phone calls don’t do the trick: “Wish you could be with me / There would be no problem / Our communication’s bad / And I want to see you again.” WHAT? It sounds like a whine set to music. It doesn’t even rhyme! Look, for white Scotsmen, these guys are funky. But they’re not funky enough to pull a James Brown and write lyrics that don’t rhyme.

But “Pick Up the Pieces”, the only instrumental on the album, succeeds for two reasons. First and most obviously, there are no vocals. This is a classic case of addition by subtraction. Second, this might be the tightest, funkiest composition by anyone, ever. (It’s certainly in the top 10.) The mix is terrific, and the band is in lockstep. Listening to the song, I wondered how many takes it must have taken to get it so perfect. The arrangement is complex, but there isn’t a note that isn’t right in time, with feel. A quick listen to the live version of the song, included as the final track of the album, shows just how sloppy the song can get. The studio version must have taken weeks.

I was already familiar with “Pieces” from its use in the guy movie Swingers, where director Doug Liman used it for an L.A. driving sequence. Coincidentally, that’s exactly how I listened to it: driving home from work on Sepulveda Blvd. While other aspects of that movie (the Sinatra worship, for one) haven’t aged as well, something tells me that this song will never feel dated.

The bottom line, however, is that you can find that one great song elsewhere. Don’t buy this album.

Herb Alpert & Tijuana Brass – Whipped Cream & Other Delights and Definitive Hits

I like these albums and I like this band. I first discovered Herb Alpert through the Christmas Album they made in the late 1960’s. I really like their Latin-jazz approach to Christmas standards. So I looked into these two albums to complete my picture of the band. The problem with this music is that for all the imagination, the innovative arrangements, and technical ability involved, the music is really lightweight. There’s a reason these songs have been used as game show themes and elevator music: they’re one artistic rung above commercial jingles. This isn’t music I could ever listen to on my headphones with my eyes closed. It’s music made for the background of cocktail parties.
That said, Herb Alpert and the Brass succeed at that task admirably. Definitive Hits covers every notable song from the 1960’s, plus a few from the 1970’s and 80’s that I guarantee you’ll skip. Whipped Cream is their most popular and (probably) best album. Basically, if you like mariachi lounge music from a more optimistic era, you will like these albums.