Album Review: The Budos Band - Burnt Offering

Even though The Budos Band has been around for nearly a decade they have yet to take off and realized the fullness of their potential. The Staten Island nonet, along with many other staples of the Daptone label, have always been a competent instrumental funk outfit. The problem is that they’ve also been very easy to pigeonhole as nothing more and nothing less than being just that. Do they have an ensemble cast? Check. How about esoteric album art? Check. Afro-beat and world music influences? Check and double check. Burnt Offering is the band's fourth album and it is destined to be a game changer.

All it takes is one look at the album cover, a painting of cloaked and bearded wizard overseeing a smoking cauldron, and you should know that Burnt Offering is not your standard funk album. If anything that old school heavy metal imagery is the perfect indication of what this album has to offer. Through an impossible quirk of musical alchemy, Budos Band have turned their attention to the impenetrable realm of stoner rock. By incorporating some harder to tame elements The Budos Band has effectively reinvented itself. These include but are not limited to the occult heaviness of 70s heavy metal, the unchained wildness of free jazz, and the visceral crush of space rock.

Their last album Budos Band III had subtly hinted at this direction (including a cover of ‘Day Tripper’ that was so off-the-wall it was nearly unrecognisable) but nothing could have prepared us for what we have in Burnt Offering. Languid, narcotic grooves have usurped all sense of glamour and wackiness that has become synonymous with 21^st century funk music. Day has turned into night. Opening track ‘Into the Fog’ sounds like the theme song to the best Blaxploitation sword-and-sandals epic that was never put to celluloid. This is the sound of a funk band jettisoning all the rules and finding a new set that better suits their temperament.

Part of this sonic reinvention has to do with an increased emphasis that band has put on guitars - an essential compnent if you want to dip your toe into the metal pond. At the core of songs like 'Aphasia' and the blistering title track lies a strong electric guitar presence which gives them much of their character. It would be like Tony Iommi jamming with Sly and the Family Stone circa 1975 – a strange fit on paper, but something that would be awesome beyond words in practice. The all-important horn section is still present and accounted for but I doubt the humble six-string hasn’t played this pivotal a role in a funk record since Funkadelic unleashed Maggot Brain upon an unsuspecting world over 40 years ago. Burnt Offering is – to trot out an old cliché – not your parents' funk record. This is daring music from an outfit who are more than capable to blowing the genre wide open. The real question is, where do they go from here?

Rating: B
For fans of: Maggot Brain, stoner grooves, guitars in your funk
Recommended tracks: Burnt Offering, Into the Fog

Album review: The Flaming Lips - With a Little Help From My Fwends

These days the Flaming Lips are acting more like a tornado than a band. As they crawl forwards they consume, absorb, and destroy everything before them. Other bands that cross their path get sucked into their vortex – have a play in the eye of the storm – before being ejected back out again to fend for themselves. Tame Impala, Kesha, Peaches, My Morning Jacket, Moby, and many more have been temporarily grafted into the frame work of the psychedelic overlords. Their latest release is perhaps their most audacious: a full-album cover of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Heart Club Band. And those tornado victim conspirators? They are present and accounted for in unprecedented numbers.

This is of course not the first time that the Lips have gotten their hands on a sacred cow. In 2009 they gave a similar treatment to one of prog's most cherished landmarks, Dark Side of the Moon. However, given the source material, this approach of alien reinvention made perfect sense. Dark Side is an ode to the madness and isolation of the modern world. Giving it the narcotic overdose treatment that the Lips have been favouring this past decade helped the album regain some of its existential terror. And it is for exactly that reason why With a Little Help From My Fwends stumbles.

The original Sgt Pepper's is the pop equivalent of comfort food. It is a genuine masterpiece that not only helped to define popular music circa 1967 but showed everybody the limitless potential of studio recordings. It was not then, nor ever has been, an album to make you feel uncomfortable. In this revised take however the delicate classicism has been replaced by mind-expanding excess – baroque sensibility with the ceaseless churning of warped electronics and drug-enduced euphoria. This is a version of Sgt Pepper's as seen by those who were influenced by it and under the influence whilst enjoying it. Drenching every track in impenetrable fuzz and hijinks tends to detract from the music rather than enhance it. It would be like playing 'War Pigs' on a xylophone; sure, it's possible, but why would you bother?

Even still, you have to give it The Flaming Lips when it comes to their choice of collaborators. No name is too big, obtuse, or obscure to make it onto their dream team roster. Under their guidance alt-rockers and savants rub shoulders with popsters and MCs. All it takes is one look at the guest list to realize that the personnel on Fwends is as diverse as the faces that graced the cover of Sgt Pepper's itself. Tegan and Sara, Phantogram, J Mascis, Chuck Inglish, Grace Potter … the list goes on.

Out of this motley crew perhaps none were a more controversial choice than Miley Cyrus. What is even more shocking than The Flaming Lips hanging out with the It-girl is that she does an excellent job on both of her songs. Along with Moby she serenades a certain girl named Lucy and takes part in 'A Day in the Life' with New Fumes. With all of these eccentric persons trying to out-weird one another having a bonafide pop artist playing it (relatively) straight is exactly what the doctor ordered. When she picks up Paul McCartney's lines in 'A Day in the Life' through a dubbed-out beat you have little doubt that she means every word of them.

But unfortunately not all of these collaborations work. Some are inspired (Maynard James Keenan playing the role of Mr Kite for example), many others are capable if not exceptional, while more still are downright painful. Listening to The Autumn Defense and Black Pus trade lines in 'With a Little Help From My Friends' is borderline torturous. In their shaky hands Ringo's sing-along star turn falls apart at the seams. In truth the best songs here are the ones that stick closest to their original inspirations. Very little can match the joyous surge of 'Getting Better' and 'Good Morning, Good Morning' and the new, Lips-ified versions here are faithful while still bringing a new edge to the table.

With that being said, not all of the reinventions turn out to be tragedies. With the help of indie rockers Foxygen and MGMT's Ben Goldwasser the reprise of 'Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' is a bong-blasted treat. The all-too brief frame work of the tune has been teased out and stretched into ungodly shapes that reach for four times the length of the original rendition. Wooly organ vamps, blistering guitar leads, and sonic phasings are glued together by their own pungent aromas.

So what we have is a self-indulgent revisionist take on one of rock's greatest milestones, one that unfortunately misses the mark more often than it hits. The heart of The Flaming Lips is in the right place but what With a Little Help From My Fwends proves is that good intentions cannot undo some suspicious creative decisions.

Rating: B-

For fans of: Acid rock, the trippier side to The Beatles, psychedelic freaks

Recommended tracks: Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite, Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)

Album review: Primus and the Fungi Ensemble - Primus and the Chocolate Factory

It is almost impossible to believe that it took a band like Primus twenty five years to make a full-blown concept album. What is much easier to believe however is that now in 2014 the oddball California trio have decided to do so in remaking the soundtrack to 1971’s Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. In recent interviews front man Les Claypool has professed his love for the Gene Wilder classic, citing it as a major influence on not only his music but his personal life as well. If you have been following his career (both in and outside of Primus) this should come as absolutely no surprise at all. Claypool’s sense of dark cartoonish whimsy is entirely in line with the cheerful psychedelic horror of the film.

Primus and the Chocolate Factory has been billed as Primus and the Fungi Ensemble; the Fungi Ensemble components coming in the form of percussionist Mike Dillon and cellist Sam Bass. These are two musicians who were cribbed from Claypool’s own band to help fill out the record. The album also welcomes long-time Primus drummer (and recent cancer survivor) Tim “Herb” Alexander back into the band for the first album since the Animals Should Not Act Like People EP back in 2003. For those paying attention to the maths, that means that four out of five players on this record are the rhythm section. The sound that these guys make is pure Primus but with an even heavier focus on sheer off-the-wall weirdness than ever before.

So what does it sound like, a practically undefinable alternative rock band tackling the soundtrack to a million childhoods? The short answer is: faithful but disturbing. These are the very songs from the movie and while they’ve been Primus-ified they are still instantly recognisable. The sing-along lines to ‘Candy Man’ and ‘Golden Ticket’ have been thickened out with pounding drum rolls and oddly-tuned guitars but anybody who’s ever seen the film will feel right at home. But to be honest there was little need to alter the tunes. From the comforting distance of adulthood it can be easy to forget the dark undercurrents of Willy Wonka and his fantastical factory. 

If the song ‘Pure Imagination’ should happen to conjure up images of a brightly coloured candy man atop his magical barge then this version is confronting you with its own private psychotropic nightmare. The words are exactly the same in both versions but Larry LaLonde’s pin-balling guitar lead, Claypool’s nimble but improbably-thick bass lines, and the ensemble of clattering percussion has a tendency to instil the correct degree of dread in the listener. This is something that Primus are keen to remind us all of; that the horrors behind the fantasy are all too real and much closer than you think.

Arguably some of the most famous musical numbers from Willy Wonka are the fourth wall-breaking Oompa Loompa songs. Each and every one of these songs has survived intact on the album, dominating the b-side. The monstrous stomp they bring to it and Claypool’s carney barker delivery are perfectly at home here philosophizing about the downfalls of greed, gluttony, and sloth. If there was ever going to be (yet another) new version of the film, a lot of time could be saved by transplanting Primus directly into these scenes. 

The only “new” track on the album is the closing piece, ‘Farewell Wonkites’ – and even it makes liberal use of the ‘Pure Imagination’ melody. On this song Primus flex every prog rock muscle in their bodies and they have plenty of those to spare. LaLonde is in full The Wall-era David Gilmour mode for this powerful instrumental closer to the album. He might play second fiddle to the almighty percussion ensemble (and Claypool’s peerless bass guitar work) for most of the album but at least right at the end he has his chance to shine. By the time it wraps up there’s a good chance you will have partially melted into your sofa with a wide, candy-induced grin plastered onto your face.

We live in a world where dozens of TV shows and movies have repurposed the plot of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (as well as, in some cases, the music) for their own designs. Over the years it has become a part of our collective cultural consciousness. For a band to just go ahead and base an entire album on that movie might seem like a cheap, creatively bereft ploy – an easy out in choosing to pluck the low-hanging fruit. Luckily that band just so happens to be Primus and in their hands Primus and the Chocolate Factory regains much of the original movie’s garish menace with enough of a twist to keep it fresh.

Rating: B+

For fans of: The weird and wonderful world of Primus, the original Willy Wonka movie, nightmarish fever dreams

Recommended tracks: Golden Ticket, Pure Imagination

Album review: Melvins - Hold It In

Even though they have been around now for more than thirty years, every time Melvins release a new album the question has to be asked: which Melvins are we getting today? Is this latest offering going to be from art-punks, sludgy overlords, feedback pranksters, cover song jukeboxes, or perhaps some new arrangement we’ve yet to behold? And then there’s the question of exactly who Melvins are at this point in time. In the last eight years alone they have performed as a venomous jazz trio (Freak Puke), as a double-duo in conjunction with kindred spirits Big Business (The Bride Screamed Murder among others), and as their original 1983 line-up (Tres Cabrones). And none of this precludes the possibility that Melvins have found yet another line-up to perform with. With so many unanswered questions the best thing to do is to grit your teeth, lay those questions aside, and embrace every new album with as open of a mind as possible.

Melvins latest record (their 22nd overall!) manages to side-step both of those burning questions by offering up something new on both fronts. Backing King Buzzo and Dale Crover on Hold It In are two men completely new to the Washington legends but just so happen to share their history. Paul Leary (guitar) and JD Pinkus (bass) were never household names but they were part of the infamous (but now defunct) Texas psych-rock outfit known only as Butthole Surfers. So what we have here are the original noise brats teaming up with two weirdos from Butthole Surfers to make some even weirder music. So far, so Melvins. But what will no doubt come as a surprise is that Hold It In is the most accessible Melvins record in years.

Hold It In shows exactly what happens when a band like Melvins cut loose and make an album for their own entertainment over anybody else’s. There’s no shortage of heaviness and there’s plenty of weirdness but at the heart of it Hold It In represents Melvins at their most playful since 2006’s (A) Senile Animal. Even after all these years these guys know how to write a teenage burn-out anthem like nobody’s business. In spite of its Hammer Horror title ‘Bride of Crankenstein’ could be the theme song to any number of high school stoner parties (particularly the part about “Spinning ‘round the wrong way”). The guitars are huge and gritty but they never completely obscure the catchy hook residing in the song’s core. 

All it takes is one look at the track listing to understand that Melvins never take themselves 100% seriously. If they did would they ever pen a brutish heavy metal tune and call it ‘Seasame Street Meat’? What about something by the name of ‘Onions Make the Milk Taste Bad’ or ‘Piss Pisstopherson’? These names are the by-products of eternal tricksters; Peter Pans who grew louder and less self-conscious in place of actually growing up. Naturally these eccentricities extended beyond just song titles. How else can you explain the accordion and xylophone bridge of the bruising ‘The Bunk Up’ that runs longer than the “meat” of the song? By the time you have waded through the final six minutes of formless noise that close out ‘House of Gasoline’ you should have little doubt that the joke has been on you, the listener, the whole time. 

A large portion of Hold It In is dedicated to pop-punk sing-alongs. Wait a second, you might say, have Melvins gone soft on us? Perish the thought, puny mortal. On the surface ‘Eyes On You’ and ‘You Can Make Me Wait’ might seem like something The Pixies might have come up with if they had been locked in an underground bunker with a lifetime supply of Quaaludes, but there is always a biting undercurrent of bitterness to sink your teeth into. It might not come as much of a surprise then that these “lighter” songs were all penned by Leary. His taste for bad-taste pop music has brought out some excellent material from these noise juggernauts.

After years of goofing on their own style and formula, Melvins have struck gold once again with Hold It In. It might not be the strongest album they’ve ever committed to record (fans will keep that argument alive for years to come) but it certainly is their most consistently good work in a long time. Only time will tell if this iteration of Melvins is going to become a regular gig or whether, like so many of their other good ideas, it’s destined to be swept away in favour of the next mad scientist concoction. 

Rating: A-

Recommended tracks: Bride of Crankenstein, Onions Make the Milk Taste Bad, Nine Yards

Album review: Alt-J - This Is All Yours

It's a question as old as time itself: what's in a name? Does your chosen handle define you, or is it merely shorthand for your true self? What if you were in a band named after a keyboard shortcut – would that hinder your success or not? Only time will tell if Leeds' Alt-J are foolhardy or fearless in their choice of moniker. They are the true darling of the indie scene in an age where every band who gets on a magazine cover is somebody's “darling”. Silly name and the endless machinations of the hype machine aside, these guys have been proving just how fearless they are for years now. In 2012 their auspicious debut album, An Awesome Wave, catapulted the trio from obscurity to the tips of everybody's tongues in a heartbeat. Can their follow up record keep that magic flowing or will they be crushed under the weight of expectations? With This Is All Yours, has lightning struck twice for these indie rock savants? Perhaps we should just let the music speak for itself.

Like many young acts coming out of Britain today, Alt-J take a very synthetic approach to their own sound. A keen eared listener can pick out dozens of influences if they had the inclination and the time up their sleeve. They exist in the bizarre space between Radiohead's ingrained eccentricity, MGMT's electro-induced nightmares, and the stoned whimsy of My Morning Jacket. And yet somehow all of this is underpinned by a twisted pop sensibility. Yes, on paper that makes no sense at all, but neither does the music of Alt-J, so in a roundabout way it kinda does. The real joy comes from those moments where those elements combine to be greater than the sum of their parts.

Gus Unger-Hamilton's malleable keyboard lines are stitched between these tracks like thread through cloth, oozing out through the little gaps. They weave their way through spaced out folk, electro ruminations, and steaming piles of vintage rock. The three part 'Nara' trilogy which anchors the album down contains enough classic prog chic to furnish an entire crimson king. Everything else might shift and changes around it but they remain a constant amidst a sea of uncertainty. All of these ideas drifting in and out of the record gives This Is All Yours a surreal, ethereal quality. It gives off the impression that if you were to turn your back it might just evaporate into thin air. This makes for an album that is endlessly enigmatic and bewitching.

If you are unfamiliar with Alt-J and their body of work then you might well think that this album's lead single, 'Left Hand Free', is in some way indicative of the band's sound. Everyone else will know that this simply is not the case. It's a rugged and greasy slab of retro-rock that fits in perfectly with the modern style. In fact it might well be the best song that the Black Keys of Leon never wrote. Having that song lead people down this very misleading path is a bold gambit, one that would have completely fallen apart if the rest of the album wasn't so good. So what if you're the strange sort of person who will skip straight to the song you know? Well Alt-J are prepared for your ilk by putting a flute-based instrumental track 'Garden of England' directly after 'Left Hand Free'. That'll teach you for skipping tracks, you vile track skippers, you!

As if there was any doubt at this point, but this album shows once and for all that Joe Newman's voice is one of the band's greatest assets. It is a chameleonic instrument that's equally at home buried under a tonne of AM-radio fuzz, leading the charge over a horn section, accompanying a lone plucked guitar string, or dueling with a Miley Cyrus vocal sample (yes, you read that right). And it pays to listen closely to what he's singing about too. Perhaps the line “Turn you inside out and lick you like a crisp packet”(cribbed from the standout track 'Every Other Freckle') might get your motor running. On the other hand, it might leave you disgusted and dry retching. The fact that this (and plenty of other goofy come-ons) are wrapped up inside a dense head-trip jam gives you some idea of how deep this rabbit hole goes.

If you are content to have This Is All Yours pottering away in the background then the music will drift amicably on by. But if you decide to sharpen your focus you will be amazed at the tiny moment of brilliance that pepper the album. It's cool, it's savvy, and it's oh so hard to pin down. But not only that but it becomes clear very quickly that This Is All Yours is a genuine labour of love. Nothing this gentle, intricate, and pristine could possibly have been made through major label pushiness. It is untouched by big money's rough hands, leaving the end result playful and restless like all of the greatest art this side of the millennium. For once, the free spirits have won the day.

Rating: A-

Recommended tracks: Every Other Freckle, Nara, Left Hand Free

Album review: Tricky - Adrian Thaws

For better or worse Tricky has been an endearing figure of British music for a long time now. He's been an institute of the gritty, downbeat folk for over twenty years, a difficult wunderkind wallowing in a two decade-long funk. Adrian Thaws is the third album in reasonably quick succession; from Mixed Race (2010) through False Idols (2014), to present date. These releases all share an off-the-cuff, sketch oriented aesthetic. They are “throw anything at the wall and see what sticks” albums, a style which contributes greatly to both their highlights and their glaring flaws.

The chunky groove that runs for those tantalizing first few bars of 'Sundown' does a sterling job in raising your expectations for the album you are about to experience. And then … nothing. The energy gets drained out after that and the song just falls apart. Not a good start, but can it recover? Unfortunately not. Most of the album finds Tricky limping listlessly through tin pan funk, blaring synths, and rusty hip-hop abstractions. In Tricky's defense, even his widely enjoyed albums were patchy affairs. But at least they had revelatory moments, a 'Black Steel' or 'Hell is Around the Corner' to keep you holding on. That lucidity is particularly sparse on Adrian Thaws. The level of stoned detachment we've come to expect from Tricky is in full effect, if anything too much so. He's gone from being an enigma to just being absent.

Coming into Adrian Thaws we were told to expect a “clubbing” album and in a strange way we actually got one. This is what Tricky would play in a dance club. Were you really anticipating a bunch of top 40 busting singles? Where the cross-over hits at? Exactly. This is a typically gloomy affair dressed up as a dance record, but only when the man himself can be bothered. In fact much of the energetic veneer only serves to make the dreary bits seem even more desperate. When those dancey numbers arrive you are actually glad for the change in pace. The exact combinations of these parts might be novel but we've seen and heard all of these musical molecules from Tricky before.

I'm not usually one to comment too much about lyrical content of album's because it's an extremely subjective category within the completely subjective field of music critiquing. Obviously not everyone can be a sparkling wordsmith. That being said, if you find yourself getting caught up on some bad lines then it needs to be mentioned. The hook on the Prodigy-baiting 'Why Don't You' is just telling you, quite bluntly, to go get fucked. But when you compare that to asking people to 'friend' him on Facebook or lamenting that kids are going hungry because the mother “ain't got shit” (both found in the cringe-worthy 'Lonnie Listen'), this sounds almost intellectual.

In Adrian Thaws, Tricky has named an album after himself and decided not to show up to the party. He's always relied on other musicians to fill out his spartan compositions but he's less present than ever. Francesca Belmont (on her third album in a prominent vocalist role) does most of the heavy lifting and the supporting cast pretty much do the rest. Some of these contributors include Nigerian singer Nneka (who keeps 'Keep Me in Your Shake' alive and kicking) along with MCs Blue Daisy, Bella Gotti, and Mykki Blanco. All the while the real Adrian Thaws is flitting in and out of the tracks like a ghost, contented to be as much a spectator as he is a creator. This is one self-titled album that does nothing to help us get to know the man behind the nom de plume.

Rating: C

Recommended track: Keep Me in Your Shake

Album review: Interpol - El Pintor

Being a fan of Interpol hasn't been the easiest of rides in recent times. After two exceptional albums the dapper New York quartet seemed to lose momentum with two records that felt more like obligations than statements of intent. That easy charm and detached ferocity that defined their early work had started to dull and the mystery surrounding the band was unraveling fast. That's certainly not to say that Our Love To Admire and Interpol were bad albums, just that they could have been so much better than they ended up. Apparently actually being part of Interpol has been just as difficult. Shortly before the release of their eponymous fourth album, bass player Carlos D parted ways with the band. This left the remaining Paul Banks (vocals / guitar), Sam Fogarino (drums), and Dan Kessler (guitar) with an uphill battle to fight. With numbers beginning to dwindle and the tide of critical opinion starting to turn on them, the challenge for Interpol to pull things together was never going to be easy.

This challenge has birthed an album entitled El Pintor. The wordy among you might notice it's an anagram of Interpol as well as Spanish for “The Painter”. To follow one self-titled album with a nearly-self-titled album gives an insight into what was essentially a creative reboot for the band. Shifting to a trio (using a few supporting players for extra seasoning) has not appeared to harm them one iota. It only takes about thirty seconds of listening to El Pintor to witness this rebirth happening before you. After a chilly introduction to lead single 'All the Rage Back Home' you get thrown into the deep end of what this re-jigged line-up has to offer. Just as soon as the thick bass line cuts through the dreamlike haze it's all hands on deck, clinging on for dear life as the song flies into the red. Interpol haven't sounded this engaged (or this engaging) in nearly a decade. The repeated refrain of “I keep falling maybe half the time” might be the least likely lyric in 2014 to get stuck in your head for days on end. As a stand alone track 'All the Rage Back Home' is just fine and dandy, but the fact that it acts as a palette cleanser before the real action begins is vital.

If you dig any of what these guys do (or, in fact, have ever done) you will find it impossible to go more than two songs without finding something that hooks you. Maybe the saccharine nostalgia of 'My Blue Supreme' is up your alley, or will the unexpected proggy aftertaste of 'Breaker 1' do it for you? Perhaps 'Tidal Wave' is more your speed, complete with the sweet tang of moshpit sweat for authenticity. No matter which sort of Interpol fan you turn out to be, this album will sweep you away with its almighty sense of human drama. These pieces might not grab you on the first listen but, mark my words, they will get you. The best comparison for this new material would be their haunted debut, Turn On the Bright Lights. This is no small compliment given the instant acclaim that Interpol won right from the word 'go' back in 2002. Both albums share an unshakable, icy confidence that is downright infectious.

Just as the album starts out strong so does it end. For a group not known for their glaring humanity they sure know how to pluck at the emotional strings when called upon. After 'Tidal Wave' has receded back into the ocean, the hypnotic strains of closing track 'Twice As Hard' swarm in. It was purpose built to get a room (or even a stadium) full of people swaying in unison and singing at the top of their lungs. The song is also a fantastic showcase for what the addition of subtle keyboards can do to enhance Interpol's formidable sound. And at that, after ten strong tracks, the record bids you adieu. It knows perfectly well that there is no greater sin in music than overstaying your welcome. There is no doubt that in 2014 the Big Apple's favourite indie rockers are back on track in a big way. El Pintor is some of Interpol's most striking work to date and can proudly stand beside their very best. The gauntlet has been laid down to all of those other cool-in-2004 bands who have fallen by the wayside in recent years – this is how you do a comeback in style.

Rating: A

Recommended tracks: My Blue Supreme, All the Rage Back Home, Tidal Wave

Album Review: Robert Plant and the Sensational Space-Shifters - Lullaby and ... The Ceaseless Roar

Can you think of any legendary front-man who has worked as hard to reinvent himself as Robert Plant has? The former Zep wailer has been crafting a powerful and diverse discography to pin his name to ever since the classic rock titans disbanded under tragic circumstances in 1980. In the 21^st century he has been a remarkably hard artist to pin down. It started out with revision on his greatest-hits-but-not-really release Dreamland. This was followed by a pattern of re-invention after re-invention. Plant has since tried his hand at everything from worldly, hard-hitting blues (Mighty Rearranger) to adult contemporary (the multi-Grammy winning Raising Sand with Alison Krauss). His is indeed a full palette. Old Robert is back once again, sounding newer than ever, with a new band of like-minded fellows on hand to present his latest opus, Lullaby and … The Ceaseless Roar.

The free-wheeling, anything goes attitude that he brought with him on 2010’s Band of Joy is present and accounted for. Malian blues and nebulous Americana collide with the pulsating electronic heartbeat on album opener 'Little Maggie'. It's an audaciously bold track that opens your eyes to the world that Plant and friends are trying to create here. Anyone who has paid close attention to Plant, even in his Zeppelin days, will have noticed penchant for non-Western music. But here he has taken his opportunity to go all in and push those boundaries as far as they will go.

Much of the credit for this astonishing diversity goes to the latest incarnation of Plant's backing band, The Sensational Space-Shifters. Some of these esteemed gents have been tagging along for some time under different versions of the band while some are totally new to the ensemble. A particular standout is Justin Adams, who plays an array of unusual instruments on the record including bendirs, djembe, and tehardant . He brings an amazing eclectic bent to the record and shines brightly whenever given the opportunity. But that is not at all to downplay what the rest of the band brings to the table. The Sensational Space-Shifters are the most engaging and powerful group that Plant has worked with in nearly forty years.

Unlike many of his contemporaries Robert Plant has never shied away from modernity. 'Pocketful of Golden' harkens back to the moody, bass-driven days of trip-hop – all clattering snares and synthesized strings. The same goes for the Industrial-tinged 'Turn It Up' which takes the prize for heaviest song on the record. None of this should come as a surprise given his current entourage and their previous positions within the greater realms of music. The best songs are where all of these disparate elements come together in unison. ‘Embrace Another Fall’ dazzles with its dizzying combination of jungle beat, violins, guitar solos, and the stunningly feminine vocals that come in at the end. If you were to pick out one song from Robert Plant’s solo work to show to the uninitiated I think that ‘Embrace Another Fall’ would be a valid contender.

But even with all of these stylistic diversions the heart of all of these songs is still recognizably Plant. ‘Rainbow’, the lead single from the album, is not far divorced from the muted country sway that won him all those awards (and a legion of new fans, no doubt) in Raising Sand. Sure, the soft brushed drums and tender fiddles have been replaced with tribal percussion and mournful washes of guitar but the principle is exactly the same. This is just a small part of the scintillating fusion of modern and ancient styles of music we are treated to on Lullaby and … The Ceaseless Roar. It is a canvas on which Leadbelly's blues can co-exist with the type of futuristic shamanism that Plant effortlessly commands.

Robert Plant lives in the rarefied company of the likes of David Bowie and Neil Young. These men are survivors of another era who have refused to fade into memories of yesteryear. They all feel as though they still have something to contribute to the world, even if those contributions come with mixed results. Lullaby And … The Ceaseless Roar is a bold and timely statement that Robert Plant does not want to be relegated to the past tense just yet. He still has something left to say and if he keeps saying it as emphatically as he has in 2014 we would all do well to heed such statements.

Rating: A-
Recommended tracks: Embrace Another Fall, Little Maggie, Turn It Up

Album Review: Pallbearer - Foundations of Burden

Even in the dogmatic world of heavy metal, doom as a sub-genre is notoriously traditional. Sure, there are some bands out there trying to adapt and evolve their chosen medium but the most striking works in that field tend to adhere firmly to the blueprint laid out by the greats. That is where young Arkansas quartet Pallbearer come in to the picture. Their wicked debut album, Sorrow & Extinction, put them on the map and on the lips of clued-in metalheads the world over. They went from being a much-hyped young band with a tonne of potential to one who actually lived up to that potential, a rarity in this day and age. Curiously though, their acclaim spread much wider than that with many “non-metal” sources touting the album as one of 2012's best. So how do you follow up a stunning debut record? Will they succeed or collapse under the weight of the burden of expectations? Pallbearer answer these questions (and more) in their own unique way with Foundations of Burden.

From the very first notes of 'Worlds Apart' it becomes apparent that you are in for a treat. It all starts with a riff so crunchy and powerful it has the capacity to physically tear the roof off. Brett Campbell's high, wavering vocals gel perfectly with the grinding of concrete riffs and the residue of incense that clings to everything (at least I'm pretty sure that's incense residue). Foundations of Burden is not an album to take lightly. Every single element is ratcheted up to maximum intensity and dripping with an elemental heaviness. From there they transition effortlessly into 'Foundations', a swampy morass of down-tuned guitars tempered by the perverse pomp of funeral doom. With just two songs down it's hard not to be impressed with just how much this band has grown in the two short years since their debut. The songs (while still very long) are far more economical and cleverly arranged. And this says nothing of the performances themselves which are infinitely more confident and striking this time around.

As you might well expect the atmosphere that is being cultivated is almost uniformly thick and foreboding throughout. In fact, there is only one real moment of levity amidst the dread and it surfaces right near the end. 'Ashes' is an interlude of sorts that introduces a gentle piano melody, quite at odds to the churning hellfire you will have endured to this point. For a few shining minutes those imposing guitars get dialed back to let a sweeter style of singing push its way to the front of the crowd. This might well be Pallbearer's 'Planet Caravan' – a gorgeous palette cleanser gleaming out from the darkness. But it does not last, and really how could it in such threatening company? That thin glimmer of light is swallowed whole by the arrival of the vast album closer, 'Vanished'.

One of the reasons that Pallbearer have made so many fans in their brief time together is their demonstrative knowledge of music history in a way that's more meaningful than simply aping their heroes. Take for example the fact that they recruited the well-regarded Billy Anderson for production duties. Anderson has had his hand in some of heavy metal's best loved modern classics (having worked withSleep, Neurosis, and Fantomas just to name a few). Under his aegis Foundations of Burden is impossibly dense when heavy is needed but can also be sparse and tense when it suits. Music this powerful and ornery needs a steady hand at the controls to keep it all together and moving forward and Anderson appears to be the very man for the job.

In the tradition of the doom greats, Pallbearer are certainly in no hurry to tell their tale. These were the sort of kid who were raised on early Black Sabbath, Warning, Cathedral, and possibly some Type O Negative on the side. All but one of the six songs on the album approach or break the ten-minute mark, making Foundations of Burden stretch for nearly an hour. Nobody should be under any illusion that there might be a sneaky pop number buried in here - such ideas just don't factor in to the Pallbearer ethos. While the rest of the world keeps on moving Pallbearer have proven that they are happy living in their own private late-70s metal bubble. The glacial pace of this record is absolutely definitely not going to suit everybody, but if you've gone in expecting a healthy dose of earth-shaking doom metal then there is a lot to like here.

Rating: B+

Recommended tracks: Worlds Apart, Ashes

Review Wrap-up: Starring John Garcia, Angus & Julia Stone, Mark Lanegan, and Goat

John Garcia – John Garcia

John Garcia, the voice behind Kyuss, Vista Chino, and Unida finally steps out from behind the wall of monikers and delivers his very first solo album. It was inevitable that he would go the way of his peers and staking a claim on his own musical identity. If you have any real familiarity with any of his other bands what you'll find on this self-titled effort will be very enjoyable even if it is naggingly familiar. This album is packed to the gills with harsh buzzing rockers – from the belligerent BOC march of 'Rolling Stoned' to the serpentine '5000 Miles'. And just like his Kyuss hombre, Brant Bjork, Garcia isn't above splicing a little hippy jam in to chill among the power chords. An acoustic guitar surfaces on the paisley-fied album closer 'Her Bullets' Energy' – quite at odds with his usual hard rock ethos. Similarly, 'Confusion' finds the singer lost in a void of feedback with only his wah peddle to keep him company. These songs help to space out the sweaty groovers on the album – and nobody gets sweatier or groovier than a stoner rock icon in full swing. Garcia's vocals haven't lost any power over the years, in fact if anything he's gruffer and more imposing than ever. It's a little disappointing then that every single track burdens him with an impenetrable fuzziness. Just once it would've been nice to hear him scream his way out of the static and be heard front and centre. If hypnotic desert rock, and alluring desert rockers, are your thing then John Garcia is a no-brainer. You are in for another strange trip out into the desert.

Rating: B

Recommended tracks: 5000 Miles, Rolling Stoned

Angus & Julia Stone

The alternative world is full of wistful kookiness and piped-in sappiness. Those that rise above their peers tend to be something special. Australian indie darlings Angus & Julia Stone make music that is just so damned likable. What really shines through this time around are the little loving touches that make their music feel so warm and inviting. The flourishes of vintage prog guitar ('Main Street'), jazzy Portishead grooves (‘Death Defying Acts’), and just the right amounts of jangle flesh out their dreamy 80s fetishism. Producer Rick Rubin uses this as a canvas to craft some slinky crooners with gorgeous harmonies – something that this pair can provide in spades. By the time you reach 'Heart Beats Slow' a few tracks in you’ll be well convinced that it’s the obvious single in the crop. The duo's cooing back and forth makes for a very memorable melody and a winningly confident track all together. The key is that they really do make an arresting pair, musically speaking, and the songs they share equally are the strongest in the set. Angus pulls off a convincing variation of Tom Petty to Julia's distorted Dolly Parton and that chemistry breathes life into some quite pleasant tunes along the way. At an hour long though this is an overly long effort (even more so if you have the extra-long Deluxe edition). For all of its charm and cleverness there are some rather unmemorable tracks that could have been tightened up or cut outright. Angus & Julia Stone is an enjoyable album that might have benefited from some self-editing.

Rating: C+

Recommended track: Heart Beats Slow

 

Mark Lanegan Band – No Bells on Sunday EP

Over the last decade I have found that when discussing ex-Screaming Trees vocalist Mark Lanegan it pays to point out which version you are dealing with. Is what you have before you a product of Dark Mark, brooding solo artist, or Bandleader Lanegan, the mysterious and magnetic alt-rock veteran. No Bells on Sunday, his latest EP, is an excellent example of the latter. It seems that the gravel-voiced maestro is trying to evolve his craggy, post-punk persona which does make it feel very much like a sister-piece to 2012's Blues Funeral. Things start strangely with 'Dry Iced' as Lanegan yowls over a robotic new-wave beat. 'Sad Lover' is the anchor song at the heart of the album and it really kick-starts this EP when it arrives. It might sound like a bit of a weeper on paper but in practice is more Masters of Reality than The Cure, riding a dense guitar riff and a wonderfully eroded keyboard line. Tacked right on the end 'Smokestack Magic' cements its dominance over the EP by taking up nearly a third of entire run time. The tune does begin to drag its heels a bit around the five minute mark, but it is still an endearing and magical number. The songs on No Bells on Sunday are but mere sketches of this vast, imposing character who has been bewitching us for over 30 years now. Sometimes he's leaning in close, breathing in your ear; others he's aloof and celestial. These are the well-worn costumes of Lanegan but they are always a welcome sight.

Rating: B

Recommended tracks: Sad Lover, Dry Iced

Goat – Commune

Are you prepared for the mind-altering music of Goat? This Swedish trio called their last album World Music because that is what they felt they played – music informed by the world around them. So what are we meant to infer from the title of their new album, Commune? In spite of the geographic distances involved this is space-cadet indie that borrows liberally from the infamous San Fran psychedelic scene. There was just as much chance that this would blow up a band's face as it would make for an engaging listening experience. Luckily for Goat the fates have been kind. On the world music front, you'll find these songs are splattered with Eastern rhythms, African percussion, and a pervading sense of the alien. The powerful opening cut 'Talk to God' positively drips with incense residue (at least I'm pretty sure that's incense) only to be turned on its head by the reverb-ladden 'Words'. Well hidden in these heady jams are some key signposts to remind you that this is essentially still rock music. The stuttering guitar solos scattered throughout the record only thicken the mesmerizing haze. Unfortunately after a very strong start the album slips into a comfortable gear and will not be easily moved. Commune turns out to be generally inventive in regards to its influences and the source material but on occasion it becomes too much of a time warp for comfort.

Rating: B-

Recommended track: Talk to God, Words

Well, that's it for another month. Luckily for us September has some tasty treats in store. Brace yourselves for new music from Earth, Tricky, Interpol, Robert Plant, Aphex Twin, Julian Casablancas, Yob, Nick Oliveri, and that terrifying Sunn 0))) / Scott Walker collaboration just to name a few. I'm ready. Are you?

- Professor Ricardo

Album Review - Local Talent Edition: Into Orbit - Caverns

Hello, it's the Professor here. As a reviewer it is far too easy to get lost in the never-ending tide of international new releases, so much so that a lot of talent from my home country of New Zealand gets left behind. When a little beauty of an album called Caverns from Into Orbit landed right in my lap I knew that this was something special and worth promoting. This duo hail from the capital city of Wellington and, if their debut album is anything to go by, they are here to blow some minds. You can purchase the album and listen to it right here.

It can be hard to grab people's attention and hold it when it comes instrumental music. By its very nature has to exist outside of a pop structure which can make it difficult when it comes to attracting new fans. Music like this lives and dies on the power of the performances and how well the players can tell a story without using the human voice as a crutch. Those who have mastered this ornery style know how to draw you in, seduce you into their way of doing things, and leave you gasping for more. Those that cannot fall by the wayside and are quickly forgotten. Wellington's Into Orbit most definitely fall into the first category. Their debut album is called Caverns and it is one that will stay with you long after it has ended and receded back into silence.

The first thing that will strike you is just how much volume and complexity is created by just two men. That's right, Into Orbit are only a duo which seems borderline impossible given the caliber of songs on this record. Paul Stewart (guitar) and Ian Moir (drums) work in such seamless tandem that you could swear there were at least twice that number of them, if not more. What these two do on the album with so little at their disposal is borderline black magic. This all seems to be very much in line with the Into Orbit philosophy: maximum impact born from impeccable chemistry.

We are treated to one hell of a racket as soon as the album opens. The almost-title track 'Corridors… Caverns' builds to a sweltering crescendo early on, just long enough to inoculate you to the cacophonous assault, before dialing it right back and enchanting you with its subtle magic. Fluid, layered guitar lines interlace themselves through the staggering beat. The opening notes of 'Set Adrift' are the herald of an approaching storm. Your only option is to lie back and let them wash you out to sea. These are the pieces that combine to form a beautiful noise: the sort that makes you just want to lie back and allow to engulf you.

You can feel a sense of narrative at work even if you have no chance of deciphering it. And just like the best works of fiction, fragments of that narrative are scattered throughout the record, appearing where you least expect to find them. Motifs from earlier tracks peep their heads through the churning haze. When you find yourself lost in the tidal drift at the end of the untitled track when all of a sudden a guitar refrain from 'Set Adrift' will resurface to pull you back into the maelstrom. Later on the abusive post-punk energy of 'Towers' finds the band on a one-way trip into the bowels of hell itself, recycling itself until it collapses entirely. Caverns is an album built upon a series of these recurring cycles – a daring, fearless creation that flies in the face of increasingly homogenization.

Instrumental music is extremely divisive. Some people simply cannot get into it without a voice to guide them through when to shout, when to dance, and when to let it all hang out. Other love it for the very same reason. There is no hand to lead you through this journey. Instead you are left to your own devices to find your way to the exit of Caverns. Into Orbit know this perfectly well and allow the listener to come to their own conclusions in the face of such terrifying majesty. By the time 'Creeping Vines' has tailed out you will left speechless, gob-smacked, and hungry to return from whence you just came. That is the magic of Into Orbit.

Rating: B+

Recommended tracks: Set Adrift, Towers

Album review: Opeth - Pale Communion

To me the fascinating thing about Opeth is that, against all odds, each one of their albums exist on the same scale. Each entry in their discography informs the next in one way or another. This makes them a truly progressive act even long before they gave themselves whole-heartedly over to the prog rock mindset. The moody death metal of their first three albums softened to deliver us the critically-acclaimed combo of Still Life and Blackwater Park. From here the band were spun in a centrifuge, separating out the heaviest and lightest elements as two separate albums, Deliverance and Damnation. Ghost Reveries mixed the two halves back together to play to their strengths, while Watershed intentionally jumbled them in ill-fitting combinations. Heritage retained that in-built sense of eccentricity while jettisoning most of the metal sound. Which brings us Pale Communion, a record that picks up where the divisive Heritage left off. Can these revered gentlemen hammer out some of the bugs and produce a stronger more consistent album, or are their non-metal excursions doomed from the get go?

One of the major criticisms leveled at Heritage was its inconsistency. As much as I enjoyed the album I actually have to agree with that diagnosis. Many of the movements, passages, and contained ideas therein were genuinely exciting to behold but their arrangement left a lot to be desired. Multiple spins revealed it to be more of a loose collection of concepts than a coherent record. It is for this reason that, on paper at least, Pale Communion is undeniably superior. The album is yet another love letter to the band’s heroes. Occult hard rock rubs shoulders with spaced out psychedelia, folk, and sheer Scandanavian oddness. Nowhere is this description more apt than ‘Goblin’, a track quite literally named in honour of their forebears. The song is a tribute to the legendary Italian band of the same name and it apes their style well while still retaining a confident sense of self. After all, this isn’t some lousy tribute band we’re talking about here. Opeth are a vital creative force.

With less and less focus on the heaviness of heavy metal – the guttural vocals, the commanding riffs, the pummeling blast beats – the greater the focus has become on Mikael Akerfeldt’s voice as an instrument. Luckily he is more than up to the task. I shudder to think how some of Opeth’s contemporaries might have handled the transition to this clean singing philosophy and the train-wrecks it could produce in less capable hands. Akerfeldt has always had an amazing singing voice and he seems to be relishing using it full-time. Every track on this album (with the exception of the instrumental 'Goblin') owes his a debt of gratitude for what he brings to them. On 'Elysian Woes' he is even able to make a line like the central refrain of “don't want to bear my scars for you” sound genuinely moving instead of the uncut cheese it looks like on paper.

Don't for a minute think that Opeth has become a one-man show. While admittedly Akerfeldt seems to be in the driver's seat in 2014, his fellow band mates are more than up to the task. Joining old hands Martin Mendez (bass), Martin Axenrot (drums), and Fredrick Akesson (guitar), is new-comer Joakim Svalberg on keys, replacing long-time ivory tickler Per Wiberg. Rounding out the line-up, prog overlord Steven Wilson is again on hand to produce the record. This particular incarnation of Opeth tackles the difficult material with aplomb. It requires a particularly adept cast of players to tackle multi-part epics like 'Moon Above, Sun Below' or the heartbreaking finale 'Faith in Others'.

Just because Opeth have embraced their turn to prog rock doesn't mean that everything has gone soft on you. Just take 'Cusp of Eternity' for example. It actually acts as the album's single, possibly for the very first time in the band's history. Sure, they've had other songs released to the public but none of them really sounded as though they belonged on a radio station before. Until now that is. Not only that but it is a kick-ass jam of a rock song to boot. On 'Cusp of Eternity' they channel all of their 70s/80s rock fantasies into a concise and energetic five and a half minutes of gorgeous riffing topped off with another powerhouse vocal performance.

In truth Pale Communion uses all of the same tricks that Heritage did. What becomes very apparent over even just the first few tracks is that Opeth have simply learned better ways to wield their arsenal over the past few years. You’ll still find the same rolling keyboard vamps, strange harmonies, esoteric solos, acoustic passages, and other gags from prog’s deep bag of tricks that the band have been toying around with for a while now – only this time they have all found a way to serve the songs rather than confound them. The duo of Watershed and Heritage heralded the end of Opeth as a metal band. Pale Communion represents a new beginning as a different beast altogether. If you're one of those fans who hates the new direction they are going in my advice to you is to pull your head in: that boat sailed a long time ago. If you are too stuck in the past you risk missing out on the promises of a bright (and undoubtedly proggy) future.

Rating: A

Recommended tracks: Moon Above Sun Below, Cusp of Eternity, Elysian Woes

Album review: Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - Hypnotic Eye

For nearly 40 years now Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers have been a bone fide rock and roll institution, a rare constant in an industry that thrives on change and “the next big thing”. The problem with always being around (so to speak) is that it's very easy to forget that these acts exist in the present tense. 2010's Mojo was a great reminder that these old hands still had some new tricks up their sleeves. If they could continue that momentum into their next album that would help to reestablish them as a top act in their genre. Which brings us to Hypnotic Eye, the band's brand new thirteenth album. Hypnotic Eye has to pull off the difficult task of sounding both new and old at the same time. Any new Petty material will have to be able to stand next to 'Into the Great Wide Open' and 'Mary Jane's Last Dance' to be considered worthy. But at the same time, the fans don't necessarily want tired retreads of these classic radio rock staples. Luckily this new album is up to the task.

If you've come to hear those big rusty guitar leads and stomping blues look no further than opening track and lead single 'American Dream Plan B'. It is so Petty through and through that it could have easily been a lost cut from the 70s or 80s. Indeed these new tunes make Petty and co sound positively revitalized. The Heartbreakers have a endless reserve of their easy chemistry but the moments that stand out the most on Hypnotic Eye are those that hijack a familiar formula. 'Fault Lines' has that classic Southern rock swagger that they built their reputation upon, an organ-friendly boogie with enough energy that it sounds as though it'd been made by a band half their age. It's not all youthful belly-fire: these veterans know how to switch up their style on a dime. Tunes like 'Full Grown Boy' and the epic closing track 'Shadow People' have a playful, nocturnal air to them. Subtle keyboard vamps, brushed drums, and moody basslines dominate some of the set, which gives off a slick jazz club vibe. Perhaps this isn't your speed and you're pining for the honky tonk? Never fear. There's always a dusty harmonica-fuelled rocker just around the corner.

In spite of these diversions this is a tight record and part of that streamlinedness comes from this simply being leaner than we have been used to. “Classic rock” acts (for lack of a better term) often become overstuffed as they grow older. Their records become bloated messes as everything gets thrown down on wax with little regard for momentum or the self-editing process. Hypnotic Eye has shaved off a lot of the fat, leaving behind a shorter but over-all more satisfying listening experience. Tom Petty has always been a proponent for good times rock music that can appeal to both the head and the heart. On Hypnotic Eye he does not disappoint. It has all the urgency, charisma, and tight execution we have come to expect. But underneath the rock star bravado beats that same rebel heart that made the world fall in love with them all those years ago.

Rating: B

Recommended tracks: Fault Lines, Shadow People

Prolix - starring Primus, Weird Al, teenagers making good, and we are grateful for the dead

Welcome to Prolix - short news for short attention spans. In this semi-regular series I will be rounding up music news, reviews, opinions, rumours, and much more in bite-sized chunks of 100 words or less. Only the best and brightest make the cut. Because, let's face it, sometimes you need information fast! 

Pure imagination ...

Hold onto your chocolate nightmare boat, it's Primus! These cult heroes have just announced their latest album, entitled Primus and the Chocolate Factory with the Fungi Ensemble. Unsurprisingly it is a psychedelic tribute to the music of the Gene Wilder classic film Willy Wonka and the Chocloate Factory. It is also worth noting that this is the first Primus record in nearly twenty years to feature the lineup of Les Claypool, Larry LaLonde, and Tim “Herb” Alexander along with percussionist Mike Dillon and cellist Sam Bass. The album drops in October.

Bow down to the King!

Congratulations to Weird Al Yankovic on his very first US number one album! Mandatory Fun is officially the parody king's best selling record to date and this will be in no small way thanks to his aggressive online marketing campaign. Over eight consecutive days in July Yankovic released one new music video per day to promote the album and it seems that it has worked out just fine. You can check out 'Tacky', 'Word Crimes', 'Foil', 'Handy', 'First World Problems' and many more at your local online video provider.

Unlocking the Truth Rising

Are you suspicious of people who think that by “going viral” they will actually become famous? Then check out Unlocking the Truth, you cynical jerks. This metal band not only stirred up a lot of buzz with a video of them playing in Times Square but it also led to them signing with Sony Music for a two-album deal. Not a bad achievement considering that none of the members are older than fourteen! That's right, these teenagers are already being touted as the new of heavy metal. Keep your eyes peeled for these cats in the very near future.

RIP

In the last month we have lost two great musicians in Johnny Winter and Tommy Ramone. They join the likes of Bobby Womack, DJ Rashad, Frankie Knuckles, Paco de Lucia, Pete Seeger, and Devo's Bob Casale who have all passed this year. Rest in peace, honoured gentlemen. You're contributions to the lives of millions will not be forgotten in a hurry.

That's it for another exciting installment of Prolix - short music for short attention spans. As always, watch out for new music and condescending opinions on said music at Eclectik Electrik. Until next time, keep it eclectic true believers.

- Professor Ricardo

Album review: Weird Al Yankovic - Mandatory Fun

I have found that people are in one of two minds when it comes to Weird Al Yankovic. He is either seen as, a) a pop culture genius, or, b) a relic of the MTV age who has severely overstayed his welcome. The problem is that comedy is extremely subjective and comedy music is double so. Perhaps Mandatory Fun, his fourteenth album, will help you decided which side of the line you are on. Just like all his others, Mandatory Fun is packed full of specific song parodies and style parodies. The Pixies baiting 'First World Problems' does sound like more of a rip on The Offspring thanks to Yankovic's nasal whine, but its still a good tune. As has become tradition there's also one of Yankovic's trademark polka medleys. It's all very silly stuff and there is the danger that over time we have all become immune to Yankovic's quirky charm. Luckily all it takes is one play through of this album to remind us all how clever he is when it comes to wordplay. Robin Thicke's ubiquitous (and slutacious) 'Blurred Lines' is presented as 'Word Crimes', a tirade against poor grammar that couldn't be more apt in this day and age. When you hear the first verse of 'Foil' (being based on Lorde's 'Royals') you might well sigh over the well-worn “hit single as food song” trope. But when the second verse details a much smarter and funnier use for your aluminium wrap you will be right back on board. On the flip side of this 'Sports Song' seems like a filler – the bare sketch of a humour song mocking college football that somehow made the final cut. Perhaps if I lived in a country that acknowledges American football as a thing it might have made more of an impact on me (feel free to weight in on this, American readers). Not every song is going to be a hit but the fact that after all these years Weird Al is still skewering popular culture is endearing in itself. In the immortal words of Homer Simpson, “He who is tired of Weird Al is tired of life”.

Rating: B-

Recommended tracks: Word Crimes, Foil

Album review: Steven Wilson - Cover Version

Steven Wilson (Porcupine Tree, Blackfield, Storm Corrosion) is one of the modern era's great proponents of vintage prog rock and his work to date has played a large part in keeping the genre alive. This unfortunately automatically relegates him to cult hero status as the mainstream trends lie very far away from his peculiar tastes and style. On the back of three excellent and well-received solo albums, Wilson has released Cover Version as a way to blow off a little creative steam – part cover album, part new material. The original tunes are evenly spaced out with songs by Abba, Donovan, and The Cure among others. Shockingly, some of these renditions are very faithful to the original versions, especially Morissette's 'Thank You' that opens the album. Cover Version largely revolves around a simple trio of sounds: acoustic guitar, keyboard, and Wilson's own voice. This makes for a very sparse, sedate album and a far cry from the expansive bombast he usually employs. The upshot of this is when he chooses to introduce something meatier (like the electric guitar and bass combo on Prince's 'Sign O' the Time') it has maximum impact. As for the new Wilson tunes they are tremendously quaint and represent the prog savant showing off his songwriting prowess. Again, this is distinct change of pace from overdosing the audience with over-the-top compositions. No song on this album runs for longer than seven minutes which should already clue you in to the less formal, easy-access nature of this record. Cover Version is far from essential listening but any Wilson fan will enjoy this sneak peak into his world. I can only fully recommended this to die-hard fans and completionists.

Rating: C+

Recommended track: Sign O' the Times

Album review: Antemasque - Antemasque

The saga of Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez has been a long and tenuous drama playing out over the last two decades and numerous music projects. The pairing of Cedric's vocals to Omar's guitar and surreal orchestrations have made for some great music over the years. In the right circles At the Drive-In and The Mars Volta are practically household names, but much more has been concocted between the two. But through it all they have remained a powerful, if combustible creative duo. That was right up until early 2013 when the fuse finally burned up and everything exploded: The Mars Volta had split over creative differences and the two were firing off in opposite directions.

For reasons known only to them they have come back together in 2014 for yet another first impression. This one is called Antemasque (or ANTEMASQUE if you're into capitalization). Backing up the two masterminds is longtime Volta / Omar drummer Dave Elitch and prolific bass player Flea contributes sporadically as well. With this (somewhat) new band in tow this is a musical step forward that is informed by their collective history without being slavishly bound to it. For starters only one of these ten tracks breach the four-minute mark, making for a startlingly short total run time of 34 minutes. Without exaggeration, Omar has composed and performed songs longer than that before. If past efforts have indulged the duo's tendencies for long-form composition and extreme technical prowess (I'm looking at you Amputechture), Antemasque is a showcase for their sharper, shorter songwriting chops.And, you know what? It works.

The very first song demonstrates this new approach to their collaboration excellently. '4AM' is punchy and brash right out of the gate. Cedric yelps his paranoid lyrics over a pulsating new wave beats and jangling melodies. It is still muscular, showing off some of their old hardcore stock, and when the last verse kicks in at double-time you already have the first genuine mosh-able moment on the record. In short, it is the ideal lead single to show off the group's new wares. Those strong, bass-heavy songs lead the album in well. 'I Got No Remorse' cribs a few guitar sounds from 80s King Crimson which should come as little surprise; Omar has never made any excuses for his shameless Robert Fripp worship.

But the album is certainly not all highly-strung punk rock. The numerous references to Rush are curious as they are one of the few classic prog acts that wasn't referenced in the work of The Mars Volta. One listen to '50,000 Watts' will doubtlessly bring forth memories of Moving Pictures and Power Windows, of Geddy Lee in a kimono thrashing the life out of his bass guitar on the moon. On the flip-side of that, 'Drown All Your Witches' has a gentle psychedelic charm like Led Zeppelin at their quaint, folked out best. If you're looking for spooky sonic nightmares there's still plenty to enjoy here. 'Providence' is dripping with bad-trip sonics as Cedric howls 'You've been burning at the stake' like a wounded banshee.

Since the influences are less esoteric this time around there is more room for happy, hookier moments to shine through. 'Ride Like the Devil's Son' is practically begging for you to clap along with it. Don't be surprised if some of these songs get stuck in your head for quite some time. This is potentially the most accessible album from these two auteurs yet. And really, is that such a bad thing? You will have no trouble playing this record over and over again if the desire takes you, which hasn't really been feasible with these two since Relationship of Command. It's energetic while still being silly, dense when it needs to be but sparse when it helps. Most of all, Antemasque is a refreshing album that reminds us never to pigeonhole great creative minds – they can always find new ways to surprise us.

Rating: B+

Recommended tracks: 4AM, Drown All Your Witches

Prolix - starring Weezer, Antemasque, Jimi Hendrix (sort of), Death Grips, and the wacky world of drone music

Welcome to Prolix - short news for short attention spans. In this semi-regular series I will be rounding up music news, reviews, opinions, rumours, and much more in bite-sized chunks of 100 words or less. Only the best and brightest make the cut. Because, let's face it, sometimes you need information fast! 

Will Everything Be Alright in the End?

Weezer might have fallen out of favour with the ever-so fickle cool crowd these past few years but they can still find ways to surprise us. Take a look a the cover for their new album which was unveiled last week for example (above). It is called Everything Will Be Alright in the End but perhaps Good Luck Getting to Sleep Tonight, Children would be more accurate. There's still no exact date on the record but in one simple move they have gotten people talking about them again. Kudos.

Have you been paying attention?

A few months ago I clued you into the fact that if you purchased the preview EP from Antemasque (featuring Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, the masterminds behind At the Drive-In and Mars Volta) you would not only get the full album for free but you'll also have it earlier than everyone else. Well, did you do it? Because if you did you'd already have your grubby mitts on the final product. Expect a full review later this week. (Spoilers: it is VERY different from either of those two bands).

Return of the Voodoo Chile

All is By My Side is one of those music bio-pics that we heard about years ago, and sounded really good, its just that it has yet to materialize. If you're anything like me then the idea of Andre “3000” Benjamin (of Outkast fame) playing Jimi Hendrix sounds like a match made in heaven. Well the wait is nearly over. A brand new trailer has been released (click here) and it shows Andre 3000 in all his swaggering, faux 60s glory. The film is being released all around the world over the next few months. Groovy!

RIP Death Grips (do not go gently into that good night)

If you are familiar with punk-rap outfit Death grips then you are used to them doing whatever they want, whenever they want, however they want. That goes for their albums, their concerts, and apparently their demise. Only July 2^nd they announced the following: “we are now at our best and so Death Grips is over. we have officially stopped”. Apparently they are still intending on releasing Jenny Death late this year, the sister piece to their previously released Niggas on the Moon. Their particular style of intimidating chaos will be sorely missed.

From the Earth to the Sunn 0)))

What's with drone these days? First it was Earth announcing that gravelly crooner Mark Lanegan would feature on their new album, Primitive and Deadly. Now occult doomsters Sunn 0))) (yes, that's how you spell it) have let slip they they will be cutting an album with experimental folkie Scott Walker. Due sometime later in 2014, this has the potential to be the best, most disturbing album of the year. If you are familiar with the work of either of these artists then you know that this record will be something to behold.

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That's it for another exciting installment of Prolix - short music for short attention spans. As always, watch out for new music and condescending opinions on said music at Eclectik Electrik. Until next time, keep it eclectic true believers.

- Professor Ricardo