Today we’re taking a look at Drukqs by Aphex twin as it takes on Muse’s Origin of Symmetry.
Aphex Twin- Drukqs
As a teenager, I once read a Flipside review where the writer said they couldn’t get into the record because they couldn’t get past the stupid title. That’s a fair, if a bit harsh, point. It’s also one that I apparently agree with, since I’ve abided by that same rule most of my life. And when I say this, I don’t mean ones that are abstract, or that may point to a joke I’m not in on. I mean abjectly dumb titles- ones that go out of their way to be “incorrect.”
And here we come to Aphex Twin’s Drukqs. WTF am I supposed to infer here? Drug use? J’Accuse? I dunno, and frankly, I don’t have time to worry about it ‘cause almost all of the titles follow this same bizarre nomenclature.
Bbydhyonchord? Vordhosbn? Cock/ver10?!
C’mon.
Titles aside, the music is standard-issue Aphex Twin: some attempts at new-age or even ambient sounds over a hyperbeat, usually set to, like, 684 BPM. Fun for about one song. Two max. Anything after that feels like I’m listening to a strobe light while on a bad trip. Maybe that’s the point? Maybe it really is all a joke that people like me aren’t supposed to get?
I dunno. But bad titles, 30 songs that are repetitive to a fault, and an almost 2-hour run time are a bridge too far. Is there a record review equivalent to “this could’ve been an email”? ‘Cause this could’ve been an EP…Maybe.
Muse- Origin of Symmetry
If Drukqs is peak claustrophobia, Origin of Symmetry is peak “open.” It is garish, bombastic, and over-the-top in all the best ways. It’s what we keep saying we want from our rock stars! If a metal band ever decided to do a Broadway show, it might sound like this. Queen walked so Muse could run. Freddie Mercury was the consummate showman. Michael Bellamy clearly took notes in class, while his contemporaries like Chris Martin did not. And it shows.
There’s a dip in quality on the back side of the record, but even the biggest wave can only sustain itself for so long. You could also say that, like Drukqs, it suffers from a bit of sameness. Luckily, the pomp and glam that comes before it is enough to carry you to shore.
Bottom Line: I’ve got a feeling that Aphex Twin will carry the day. Because of name recognition and because people are more likely to pretend to like abrasive electro-clash dialed to 11 than they are to admit they like something so pompous. I’m not claiming any kind of high ground here; I’d do the exact same thing. In fact, I did do the exact same thing; my bracket pick went to Aphex Twin. But my vote is another story, and once again I’ll be voting against my own interests and pulling the lever for Muse. Good thing I’m okay with mid-table mediocrity, I guess!
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a look at It’s a Wonderful Life by Sparklehorse as it takes on The World Won’t End by the Pernice Brothers.
Sparklehorse- It’s a Wonderful Life
Sparklehorse often feels like a car crash. Some of that (okay, a lot) had to do with Mark Linkous, whose life was very much a proverbial car crash for large stretches. That’s not to speak ill of the dead, but it’s true. Sometimes that makes for good records, and sometimes it makes for almost losing your legs after an OD. Linkous had the good/bad fortune to do both.
Like most of us, he contained multitudes, and for context, you should know that “Some Day I Will Treat You Good” is the litmus test for which I measure everything else in the catalog. It’s a high bar, but I think it’s a fair one.
It’s a Wonderful Life works best as a full listen. It stays in one emotional zone, which is to say sorta bummed out, but with flashes of light that keep it from collapsing under its own weight. That balance gives the album its shape, and it helps that Linkous brought some friends along for the ride.
The guest list is impressive, with Tom Waits, Dave Fridman, PJ Harvey, John Parish, and Nina Persson all making appearances, yet the album never feels crowded. A solid roster! All of them are adding something to the album in their own unique way.
The instrumentation is fantastic throughout the record, and while engaging, it doesn’t overtake the lyrics. Speaking of which, Linkous could pen some pretty surreal shit when he wanted to. It’s a fine line between offbeat and nonsense, and with any given verse, it’s always anyone’s guess which side of the line he’ll land on. I suppose that’s part of the appeal. Wouldn’t be a linklus record if it were as AB-AB-AB pitter-patter about puppies and ice cream, would it?
If there is a weakness, it’s that the album can wear thin after a while. Maybe it’s just me, but I can only do “wallowing” or tortured artist for so long. It’s a bit that doesn’t have staying power. A little more variation would’ve gone a long way. I mean, look at this guest list! Do some zigging! Maybe a little zagging! I also miss some of the rougher experimentation (and poppier elements) that show up elsewhere in Sparklehorse’s catalog. If pressed for time, ignore what I said about listening to this in its entirety and check out ‘Piano Fire” and “King of Nails.”
It’s not necessarily an album I’d play on repeat (or even revisit), but I get why others might dig it.
The Pernice Brothers- The World Won’t End
Last night, my wife and I went on something called a “date” and saw a movie. We’re in the throes of the Wisconsin Film Festival up here, and every year I’m reminded of how lucky we are to live in a place that punches above its weight. Ask me this again when it’s -22 and snowing. But I digress.
The film we saw was The Last Critic. Half documentary, half hagiography, it traces the rise of music critic Robert Christgau and frames him as sort of the last man standing. Lots of “they broke the mold with him,” type stuff. Love him or hate him, his reviews can be a work of art, telling an entire story in just a few lines. At the risk of cannonballing into the shallow end, allow me to try to channel my inner Christgau here:
With lovely, intricate melodies and an ear for gentle pop that would (should) make most bands pack up their gear, The World Won’t End is a template for some of your favorite bands and opens the door for some of the most annoying. Hipster outdoor goods stores rejoice! Your in-store playlist is here (not derogatory). B+
Bottom Line: Both surprised me and busted my expectations. I enjoyed The World Won’t End far more than I thought I would, and can easily see myself playing it again. On paper, It’s a Wonderful Life is the one I’d gravitate towards, but I found myself clockwatching while playing it. That’s never a good sign. I guess it depends which sort of melancholy you prefer. I am once again going against my own bracket pick and will be voting for the Brothers Pernice.
What do you think? Did I get it right here, or am I way off the mark? Share your thoughts in the comments!
I don’t watch a lot of TV series, but when I find something I like, I’m all in. Very few shows get to this rarefied air for me- mostly because I have the attention span of a fruit fly. To get me to sit down and stare at a screen (without scrolling) for an hour? Are you kidding me? The Americans did it for me. Mad Men before that. More recently, I’ve gone all in on The Pitt. The first season felt like one long car crash (which it kind of was; it takes place in an ER). This time around is a slow burn and more focused on the staff themselves. All have their flaws, and there’s a hierarchy of angels and villains coming clearer into view with each episode. So yeah, Santos can still F off, but my point here is that somehow, despite the nonstop firehose of chaos, they keep finding a way to push through. There’s a real resilience to these people, and given what’s happening today (waves have literally everything), there’s a lesson in there.
Sometimes the indignities are on a grand scale. sometimes, a smaller one, like a shitty commute. When I was a union rep, we’d often crib a phrase from an earlier era: “one day longer.” It was shorthand for “nothing good comes easy or quickly. You’ve just got to outlast your opponent. A better tomorrow is just over the horizon.”
There’s a lesson in that, too. And while no one can fix the bigger problems alone, we can at least make your morning commute a little bit better.
This week, we’ve got new stuff from Arlo Parks, Prism Shores, Paul Bergmann, Girl Scout, and Parlor Greens, along with a good dose of old favorites like Roxy Music, That Dog, and Velocity Girl. My abiding hope is that someday people will come around to Copacetic. One day…
This week, Side A is tracks 1-15 (ends with “Same Kids”). Side B is tracks 16-27.
Today we’re taking a look at Swimming Hour by Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire as it takes on The Coup’s Party Music.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
The Coup- Party Music
Earlier this week, I was listening to the Will’s Band of the Week podcast, and in the “banter” part of this episode, one of the hosts was talking about listening to another podcast (meta meta, I know!). That episode covered the discography of one of his favorite bands (Apples in Stereo), and partway through it hit him that he’d never heard one of the records being discussed. This, of course, was much more normal back in the day than it is now. Maybe a new release came out when you were broke. Maybe you were still so into the previous one that you weren’t ready for the next record. Whatever the reason, it could usually betied back to bad timing.
Speaking of which…
We can’t get too far here without acknowledging the album’s cover. The original artwork was a photo of Boots and Pam standing in front of the WTC as it exploded. It was originally slated for a September 11th release. You can imagine how this went (spoiler: not well at all). Riley’s spent a lot of time and energy explaining that it was a metaphor for tearing down the systems that hold us down, and that music is a powerful weapon to tear down those walls. He also doubled down on it all, mentioning more than once that the censoring of the cover was in response to the political climate and not any sort of empathy or sympathy. Where do you see that as staying true to one’s beliefs or stepping on a rake? I’ll leave it to you. Either way, you can also imagine how often this has fallen on deaf ears.
The cover might’ve been altered—it’s now a close-up shot of a drink on fire (a Molotov cocktail. Get it? (nudge nudge)—the music inside is as white hot as ever. Party Music consists of twelve funky slices of politically conscious body-moving music. Their tracks blend punk, funk, disco, and hip hop into a monster palette for their self-described revolutionary Communist frontman, Boots Riley. No one is safe.
“Those in the crosshairs police (Pork and Beef), the government, ‘Ride the Fence’, and anyone else that falls under the umbrella label of ‘the man’ (most everywhere else). That could be any number of hip hop records, really, but what Riley does well is steer away from just sort of blindly swinging at whoever is pissing him off today. There’s an upbeat vibe to it all, and in any revolution, the key ingredient is hope. Party Music might not be music for a party, but it’s perfect for a party takedown. Maybe even at a party while taking down the party in power. Imagine people singing (and dancing to) the chorus to “The Guillotine” (off 2012’s Sorry to Bother You) at the next No Kings rally!
Poor timing and that cover cursed this record to trivia status. Most “best of” discussions skip over it. They shouldn’t. The original cover art might not stand up, but the message sure does.
Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire- The Swimming Hour
If you’re pressed for time, here’s the TL; DR: A lot of bands go genre hopping in a way that feels like voyeur tourism or slather it in so much irony and cynicism as to overtake the whole thing. There are bands whose entire discography is built on this quicksand!
Andrew Bird doesn’t strike me that way at all. What makes the record stand out is the total absence of that nonsense. It feels curious, playful, and open-hearted in a way that one just didn’t see in 2001 (or today, for that matter). Whatever bands like Bowling for Soup and Alien Ant Farm are, this is the opposite.
Listening along, I keep seeing this vision of a guy who enjoys a bunch of different genres and just wants to try ‘em out in the studio to see what happens. It feels natural instead of gimmicky.
Not every song works for me—or works in general— but I think that should be expected. None of them is poorly done. This isn’t a bunch of demos strung together, or a “sessions” record dressed up and passed off as an album. But most of them do, and that’s enough to make the album strong overall.
For each of these, I tried to put myself in his shoes or at least in a scenario that would influence these tracks. “How Indiscreet” towards the end really captures what I like about it — there’s a lively, restless feel to it that reminds me of crate-digging for old soul records. Anytime I go to my favorite local shop, I spend some time in that corner, and while I was daydreaming at work, thinking about how best to put this review together, I imagined him there doing the same. In the end, I think that “realness” or authenticity is the album’s superpower. Doing a bunch of genres in a row isn’t easy to do, but Swimming Hour pulls it off.
Overall, The Swimming Hour isn’t perfect, but its animation, sincerity, and mix of influences left a great impression. I’ll be back to visit this one.
Bottom Line: Tough call here. Bit are good, if wildly different records. My bracket pick defaulted to name recognition (The Coup), and my vote later this morning will be largely dependent on my mood. Will I be burnt out on corporatist bullshit? Will I be riding high off a night of good sleep and a morning playing with Gizmo? Could go either way!
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a quick look at BRMC’s self-titled debut as it takes on Spiritualized’s Let it Come Down.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club- S/T
Put aside the name, kitschy band name, and the fact that you spend a good amount of time thinking you’re listening to Jesus and Mary Chain; Black Rebel Motorcycle Club rips. 2001 might;ve been an era of potemkin-vkillages-as band, but this wasn;t one of them. Robert Levon Been on bass and vocals, Peter Hayes on guitar and vocals, Nick Jago on drums—they came out swinging with actual songs. In short, they came to play 9, no pun intended. Been is also the son of The Call’s Michael Been, so that’s a nohter notch in the win column.
“Love Burns” is a slow burn that gets things off to a strong start. Red Eyes and Tears and “Whatever Happened to My Rock n’ Roll (Punk Song) are two more for your playlist. The latter will also have you thinking more about The Stooges than you have in a while. We’ll see where this bracket takes up, but that’s gotta be an early leader for “best opening run of tracks.”
The rest holds up as well. “As Sure as the Sun” has a steady churn that builds into something almost pretty (maybe that’s just me. I was listening at work before sunrise). “Spread Your Love” brings a fat bass line and a nice dose of distortion. As with lots of records, a couple of spots drop off—like the last seconds of “Whatever Happened…” — but these feel intentional, not because of any sloppiness.
I’m probably the wrong person to ask, but the lasting impression of this band is that People slept on them and this record. Maybe the JAMC comps were a distraction, but besides the fuzz and drone, there’s plenty of hooks too.
A lot of these records feel very much of their time. Or worse, like it’s a nostalgia exercise. This doesn’t strike me as one of ‘em. Besides mistakenly thinking it was JAMC, my other overarching takeaway is that this was a goddamn delight, and a record that could easily have been released last week.
Bottom Line:
Spiritualized vs BRMC seems like the most 2001 contest that ever 2001 contested, but here we are. Both are seeded roughly mid-pack (56 vs 73). On my bracket, I went with the higher seed. Seemed reasonable at the time! With the benefit of a couple of new listens for each, I’ll once again vote against myself and ride for BRMC.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Orcutt Shelley Miller and Jesus Lizard’s David Yow get together and do a Captain Beefheart cover reads like the setup to an incredibly niche indie rock joke. I assure you it’s not. And it’s not a joke either. They’ve just dropped a rendition of Captain Beefheart’s “Hot Head.” Physical copies drop next month, but you can listen online now. And you should—especially if you’re a fan of setting your hair on fire.
From Ethan Miller:
On how “Hot Head” came about, OSM bassist Miller explains: “Beefheart is, as Bill would say, definitely one of our big Venn diagram intersections for OSM. Bill had been throwing the ‘Hot Head’ riff into the middle of one of our tunes that had a similar tempo on certain nights on tour. We just kept digging in further and further until it was a full song embedded within another song.”
Miller continues: “David Yow and Steve were old friends, and David just seemed like a perfect fit to bring it home and do Captain’s duties on vocals. David is one of the great through-lines helping to carry the spirit of Beefheart’s musical legacy into and beyond alternative music of the ’90s and 2000s. In my estimation, that explosive blending of sonic complexity and visceral, primitive expression is really at the heart of David and The Jesus Lizard’s power, as it is also at the heart of Orcutt Shelley Miller. Beefheart hand-carved the model for that musical dynamic in marble.”
On the subject of Beefheart, Yow says, “I am extremely grateful for Don Van Vliet and the stuff he made, both the things you look at and the things you listen to, but no more so than OSM. That may or may not be the truth.”
The B-side is a Dylan cover for those who are into that sort of thing.
One of the things that makes records special are the backstories behind them. I don’t mean the songs or albums themselves (though those are often great). I mean *our* stories with them. How we found the record. What was happening in our lives when we first heard them? Maybe it soundtracked an awkward junior high dance. Maybe an album got you through a rough patch or bad breakup. Or it kept you company on roadtrips and roads not traveled. Maybe you made what in hindsight was a horrible decision to take 21 college credits your last year of school, and needed a little oomph to get through it. No? Just me? Okay.
My point is that part of why we love the songs we do goes far beyond notes and a hook. It anchors a specific time and place in our lives.
For example, I can’t hear The Call without being taken right back to central California, where the sun was relentless, and I-5 stretched on into infinity. Electronic reminds me of racing to Tower Records on my bike to get the album the second it came out (tape first, then CD). I was introduced to Joe Jackson by way of my dad’s car radio, and now he evokes memories of record shopping with my son in Minneapolis. Califone came thanks to a friend (also from The Cities) giving me the proverbial “you gotta hear this” speech about an earlier record. Deep Sea Diver? That’s thanks to several of you right here in the community.
And that’s just a few of mine from the list above. As you share what’s been in your heavy rotation, I’d love to hear any backstory or backstories behind them.
This week, Side A is tracks 1-12 (ends with “Leisure”). Side B is tracks 13-27.
It’s overdriven pop vs. minimalist country as Ash takes on Gillian Welch
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Ash – Free All Angels
Coming into Free All Angels, I expected a blast of guitars and that familiar late‑90s angsty….or something like 3 Doors Down. Honestly, I had no idea what I was in for (I know! I know!). What I didn’t expect at all was how bright and melodic this record sounds. Ash lean hard into pop hooks and glossy production, and it suits them nicely. Open “Walking Barefoot” bounces with energy, driven by big choruses and a reckless sense of fun. The band shifts from power‑pop charm to radio-friendly and back again, without losing its edge. The vocals are gritty, but the melodies push the songs toward the sunny side of the road, not garage rock.
What stands out most is how clean the songwriting feels. Every track swings for immediacy; nothing drags or hides behind fuzz. It’s all overdrive, man. Even when the themes turn darker, the delivery keeps the songs moving with a lift in tone. By the time “Shining Light” and “Burn Baby Burn” hit, it feels like Ash translating youthful frustration into something almost joyous.
This album captures a band embracing melody without apology. I don’t know what Ash was chasing with Free All Angels, but they found it in sing‑along choruses and unguarded optimism. It’s brash, catchy, and a bit sentimental. All the things! It reminds me of someone fondly looking back at a summer stay at the beach.
Gillian Welch- Time (the Revelator)
In the run-up to the bracket kicking off, this came up as a record people should check out ahead of time. There’s usually a lot of those, of course — everyone’s fighting their corner and wants their pet picks to be heard. That’s half the fun! But rarely does someone else chime in and say (really, really paraphrasing here) “If you haven’t heard this record, you haven’t heard music.” I know I butchered that, but what was unmistakable was the endorsement. You gotta love it when someone goes to the mat for a record, book, whatever. So, being one of the people who had somehow made it to 50 without ever (knowingly) hearing Welch, I had to see what the fuss was.
Turns out “Gillian Welch” isn’t just Gillian. It’s her and David Rawlings — her musical and life partner. Welch takes the lead on these songs, her voice steady and unhurried, while Rawlings floats around her with a dry, golden guitar tone.
Time (The Revelator) is ten country songs about heartache, and it’s a fantastic thanks to the duo’s next-level songwriting.
A few songs in, and I would’ve bet my house that Welch was from somewhere like West Virginia — one of those places in a holler that looks to Beckley as the “big city.” Imagine my surprise to learn she’s from L.A. That’s a heck of a pastiche. But the authenticity is never in doubt. These are her and Rawlings putting their all into these songs, and it shows. These aren’t my bag, but I get why the poster said what they did. I suspect that by the time we get through all 64 of the first-round matchups, more than a couple of records will have been flung onto the “sounds of its time” heap. This won’t be one of ’em. Time isn’t holding us, time isn’t after us. Turns out, time is a revelator (and a timeless record).
Bottom Line: Both of these are solid outings. I went with Welch primarily on the endorsement I opened this post with and a little name recognition. I have a feeling this one could easily go either way.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Everyone’s favorite murder ballad merchant takes on some British hip hop
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds No More Shall We Part (#49) as it faces off against Roots Manuva’s Run Come Save Me (#80)
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds- No More Shall We Part
I need you to understand that I’ve always regarded Nick Cave as a modern-day vampire. I don’t mean the cartoony Count Chocula caricature; I mean something like Lestat’s musically inclined cooler cousin. The type of guy that is never not wearing top-notch finery and lives in a castle with innumerable candles. None of this is close to accurate, of course. But still, if I ever saw him in, say, shorts and a T-shirt, it would probably short-circuit my mind. We all saw what happened when Danzig was snapped buying kitty litter. I don’t need that fourth wall being shattered again! Wasn’t a duet with Kylie Minogue enough? It’s also worth noting that I happen to love his newsletter, most of which is his pontificating on the world around us wrapped around the kernel of answering fan mail. He’s seen some shit (a given when you’re 377 years old) and has a pretty unique take on the world. All jokes aside, he’s suffered incredible loss, which has certainly colored his world and shaped his view of it. He’s pretty open about his faith, which, if nothing else, seems to be rare in his corner of the music universe.
I say all of this so you, A) have an idea how my brain works, and B) have an idea of the lens through which I hear everything Cave (and/or the Bad Seeds) have done.
So! About this record: No More Shall We Part is full of the devotion, guilt, prayer, and private bargaining one might expect. It comes across as a record written with a quill pen by candlelight while rain lashed the windows. It comes across as a record penned by someone coming to grips with what his innermost thoughts are trying to tell him. Say what you will about our murder ballad merchant; he’s consistent.
One of the things I find most off-putting about evangelicals is their tendency to describe everything in absolute terms. Conversely, one of Cave’s most endearing traits is his refusal to do so. At the risk of sounding like the laziest bot you’ve ever heard of, I kept coming back to that push-pull while listening to the record. This was also the first record he made after going clean, and once you know that, you can’t unhear it (not derogatory). I suppose some of you might be wondering which, if any, tracks to listen to, and to that I say Hallelujah, God Is in the House, and Fifteen Feet of Pure White Snow are all good picks.
No More Shall We Part is ornate, theatrical without being over the top, and weathered by the weight of experience but not self-pitying. In other words, a Nick Cave record. It’s also not my bag at all. In other words, a Nick Cave record. More power to everyone that loves his work, but I’ll stick to the newsletter and call it good. And would it kill him to do a nice little pop number with Kylie Minogue next time?
Roots Manuva- Run Come Save Me
Oh hey! A British rapper rapping about British things. Fun! Didn’t we already do this with Tricky and (maybe) Prodigy? Having an intro track called No Strings that’s nothing but strings didn’t help. Irony is fine in limited doses. A whole-ass song? That’s an overdose. No matter. I was sure I wasn’t gonna like this record but decided to push through anyway (the things I do in the name of “research”!). What I really wanted was something with what we used to call a “jeep beat”—in other words, something that sounded hella good as the bass proceeded to take apart your trunk, rivet by rivet. This vein of underground rap is fine, but again, not something I’m super into. I’ve got a couple of faves (i.e., Jurassic 5), and that’s enough for me. It took a few tracks, but when Join the Dots hit full speed, I found myself thinking it sounded like… Jurassic 5. Not terrible! Ital Visions was more of the same, and I’ll take all of that you’ve got.
It’s not fair to compare British and American hip-hop. There’s more ragga and dub influence oozing into the mix. Different beats, too (I wonder if there’s a British Jeep Beat equivalent?). If there is, this ain’t it. Their sounds are solid, the production is good, there are the aforementioned couple of standout tracks, and I’m willing to bet that with a few more listens, some appreciation would come. But this was never going to be something you heard comin’ from around the way.
Bottom Line: If you forced me to pick only one of these to listen to forever, my first response would be to ask why you’re so mad at me. My second (after much consternation) would be to go with Nick Cave; if I were stuck in prison or a dungeon, I would probably want something with some clarity, and No More Shall We Part would be the better of the two at delivering it. Bracket-wise, the dilemma’s easier- I’m sure the hipster contingent will show up/show out for Roots manuva, but I’m banking on Cave’s name recognition to carry the day.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Friday was one of those release days that was like hitting the jackpot. Seriously, it was one of the best in recent memory. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s also always kinda rad about seeing new work drop from bands that have been part of one’s life for decades. And this week, Afghan Whigs, the New Pornographers, and Guided by Voices did just that.
I marked the occasion by doing the only thing I could: I went record shopping. As usual, the list I made ahead of time proved pointless. I found one record I really wanted, a few I didn’t know I needed, and was again reminded to listen to Lungfish more often. It can be weird holding brand new material from a band in one hand and finding another in the bargain bin- Brill Bruisers and Gentlemen were both priced to move, so in the bag they went. I also found Little Feat’s Feats Don’t Fail Me Now, which has piqued my curiosity since seeing Keith R. Higgons’ recent post about it. And of course, I had to pick up a mystery bag. What’s in this one? Who knows! I haven’t opened it yet.
I also want to point out the track from our friend Joel Daniel here. He performs under the name Tinvis, and “Anna”—and the new record– are fantastic. Another reminder that this community is chock full of talent. We’re lucky that way. Shoutout to Kiley Larsen and Mama Mañana Records for helping get it out into the world.
This week, Side A is tracks 1-13 (ends with “Runs to Blue”). Side B is 14-29.
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