Tom Waits – Bad As Me
Tom Waits may pay the mortgage as a musician, but he clearly has the heart of a junkman. With Waits, you get the sense that nothing ever truly gets thrown away—maybe pushed deeper back or buried beneath but never completely discarded or forgotten. On Bad As Me, Waits’ first collection of entirely new material since 2004’s clanging, scraping Real Gone, the once inebriated lounge act turned beatboxing junkman picks through the scrap metal and tire piles of his nearly 40-year career and shows that a shine can be salvaged from even the rustiest pieces. Read the full review on Consequence of Sound
Coldplay – Mylo Xyloto
After a short instrumental intro, Mylo kicks off with “Hurts Like Heaven,” a driving homage to LCD Soundsystem and a nice kick in the formula. (Coldplay’s members are expert formula-repeaters.) But from there, it’s a different recipe, with a series of songs that almost beg for a verse from Jigga. “Paradise” is the biggest, most obvious one, with its saccharine—but somehow acceptable—lyrics (“life goes on, it gets so heavy”) and loping breakbeat. If Martin hasn’t lined somebody up to throw down some rhymes on a remix, he’s missing out on some serious crossover potential. “Princess Of China” serves up a major player, though: Rihanna duets with Martin on a massive bit of pop-ready melancholia that should find a home on about six different radio formats. Read the full review at Chicago Sun Times
Bonnie Prince Billy – Wolfroy Goes To Town
Wolfroy Goes to Town is a hushed, hallowed, humble work; with a reverent air that borders on religious, and a congregation of backing singers —including the glorious warble of Chicago songsmith Angel Olsen— employed like choir to his preachin’. This suits a lyrical motif that is filled with references to the divine.
Early in 2011, the Bonnie “Prince” issued a seven-inch, “There Is No God” b/w “God Is Love,” which at the time seemed like a lark; especially given the giddy, drunk-country ramblin’ of the former jam, which found Oldham caroling “that which puts mouth on cock and vagina” with glee. Here, there’s the same lyrical predisposition —God that is, not genitalia— only delivered with far more gravity and grace.
Just as on Willy O’s first-ever album, the 1993 Palace Brothers LP There is No-One What Will Take Care of You, God is present, in some form, in every song; usually by name, often in spirit; a panoply of perceptions coloring an often-stark set of songs, God rendered various shades of loving, cruel, absent, omnipresent, bearded, feminine. Oldham explores notions of faith and religion, pitting belief in a deity against the way humans force their own narratives, their own agendas, onto some imagined man in the sky. “Good God guides us/Bad God leaves us,” he carols on opener “No Match,” and that mixture of sly humor and solemn profundity holds across the whole album.
As the songs roll out mournful and melancholy, Oldham still can shoehorn in the lyrically bizarre (like: “as boys, we fucked each other/as men, we lie and smile”; or: “fat men smiling, bearded men/with blue eyes shining, light within”), but they don’t play like jokes. The effect is sad, somehow; like back in that old Palace era, when a song called “You Have Cum In Your Hair and Your Dick Is Hanging Out” was so beautiful it could make you cry. Read the full review on AllMusic
Meth, Ghost and Rae – Wu Massacre
It goes without saying that the Wu legacy is (one of) the most storied in all of hip-hop; therefore, the hype escalating since Wu-Massacre was announced earlier in 2009 is well-justified. One may worry that last year’s solo releases from Method Man, Ghostface Killah, and Raekwon would leave the Wu-Tang members low on content. Thankfully this is not the case, and Wu-Massacre does live up to – and possibly surpass – the hype.
The album opens with a bang as the much-revised “Criminology 2.5” (originally set for the Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Pt. 2 tracklist) sees the rappers delivering fiery bars set deep within the underbelly of the New York streets. And they don’t let up. Embodying their hardcore tag, the trio balances braggadocio, noir-ish storytelling, and witty punchlines with ease, while each of the three personas complement one another. Read the Full Review
Erykah Badu – New Amerykah Part 2. Return of the Ankh
New Amerykah Part Two: Return Of The Ankh is more than up to the task, and as many expected, it goes in the opposite direction—inwardly directed where Part One interrogated the world, softer sounding rather than jagged and near-random, more acoustic and less processed. It’s smoother than anything since her 1997 debut, Baduizm, which the gliding funk of “Window Seat” announces right at the top. But Badu still takes risks that pay off: “Out My Mind, Just In Time,” the closer, is a three-part, ten-and-a-half-minute meditation on love and sanity that features wracked piano and bass that goes astoundingly low, and “Incense” is a moody, harp-driven instrumental co-produced by Madlib. And “Fall In Love” rides on a swirling, almost psychedelic Eddie Kendricks loop that connects it to Part One as confidently as much of the rest of the new material stands on its own. Read the Full Review
Bonnie Prince Billy & The Cairo Gang – The Wonder Show of the World
The latest Bonnie “Prince” Billy album elevates The Cairo Gang’s main man, Emmett Kelly, from bit player to key collaborator, making prominent use of the avant-folkie’s voice and guitar as they wind easily around Will Oldham’s. The Wonder Show Of The World relies equally on Oldham’s in-the-moment spontaneity and the kind of ghostly after-the-fact orchestrations that Kelly brings to his own work. The album-opener, “Troublesome Houses,” sets the tone, coming out rhymeless and rhythmless: Its hook is little more than a two-note guitar signature, joined by little wisps of sound, as though friends wandered by, dug what Oldham and Kelly were doing, and were inspired to pick up their own instruments. Read The Full Review
Ghostly International, one of my favorite below the radar labels of the last handful of years has been quietly putting out incredible albums by artists like The School of Seven Bells, Lusine, and Tadd Mullinix. Their artists range is style from slightly left of center indie-rock, to the far corners of minimal electronica and experimental composition, but regardless of what genres GA’s artists are pulling from, they seem to maintain a very high level of quality and that unique Ghostly International character.
GA just released a great list compiling their favorites of the decade for no other reason than just to share what they like – and well, you know how much we like a good list. And this is one of the best. I mean, any best of list that contains Bonnie Prince Billy, Farben, Tim Hecker and Broadcast on the same page is basically a contender for best list ever.
Winston Churchill called it “The Black Dog”, that lurking black cloud of discontent and despair. We’ve all felt it at one point another. Just as music can compliment our positive experiences, it can also keep us company during our less enjoyable ones. This week, we asked Pure Pop staffers, what do you listen to when you want to end it all?
m. Breiner — If I’m just thinking about the end point, I’ll always listen to the Marshall Jefferson 12″ mix of the Pet Shop Boys‘ Being Boring to pull me back. But when it’s really time to pass the exhaust pipe, Chicago 3-32, the Boss’s Born in the USA, or anything from the Oasis oeuvre will do the trick. Good bye cruel world..
Amy — I can’t say I’ve ever wanted to “end it all”, but when I’m feeling a little down all I want to hear is a deep whiskey- soaked voice full of sadness and sorrow to console me and make me realize that I am not alone. Not that I can’t listen to Tom Waits in any mood… but on those darker days Franks Wild Years really hits the spot. The track Innocent When You Dream is always the turning point of my mood; depressing yet hopeful. The album ends with a deeply beautiful song, Cold Cold Ground, allowing the perfect amount of time to wallow in despair before re-entering my usually happy world.
Tanner – Gosh where to start, I mean at this point in my life i’ve got an album or two for ever shade, gradient and texture of despair. Are we talking, Gothy Romantic despair (Disintegration, Treasure)? Or maybe Nihilistic philosophical despair (I see a Darkness, Silent Shout, anything ever by Current 93)? Drifting, amorphous senses of emptiness? (Mirages, Desiderii Marginis’ Seven Sorrows, Northhaunt’s Horizons) What about actual, real world, “I lost something tangible never to get it back” despair? I guess, if i need to pair it down though, my real place of despair lies mainly in that real world emotional, everyday realm – And for that I go to Bonnie Prince Billy’s “Master and Everyone” – Not the flat out most empty, despairing, brutal album ever, or even of his career, but the world he’s working in on this album is like a cold empty room that was only just recently occupied, warm, and safe. It’s those day to day moments, when the wound is still fresh that the despair is most acutely felt.
Herb — I’m generally a fan of sad music but when I’m completely at the mercy of the demons of discontent, Chris Bell’s I am the Cosmos usually finds its way onto my record player. The album is soaked in yearning, regret and blistering anguish. It’s that much more of a crushing listen when one considers the album in the context of the late Bell’s career; he recorded the album over the better part of a decade while working for his family’s restaurant. He died tragically at the age of twenty-seven. The album wouldn’t be released for another fifteen years. *shudder* Still, the album’s excellence always pulls me back from the void.
Brandon — Although I’m barely self-aware enough to consider ending it all, when I’m feeling blue I repeatedly listen to “Barbarella” by Scott Weiland. Like anyone with a heart, I am deeply moved by Mr. Weiland’s personal and professional life. This taut, stoic number really captures the valleys of this miraculous poet’s experience. “Don’t know just who I am / don’t know about the lamb / I’m the meat of the feast”. Well said, Scott. Well said.
Matt — Asking me what I listen to when I feel like ending it all is sort of like asking a Smurf what it listens to while punching Gargamel’s cat in the balls. That is to say, it don’t happen much. To be honest, I think all that “I’m-so-sad” music is pretty garbage. If you feel like ending it all, you should exercise or get a girlfriend, right? On the other hand, if there was a zombie apocalypse and they were breaking into my fortification and I didn’t want to let them feast on my brains I’d probably play Weird Al’s “Dare to be Stupid” while I took care of myself. Respect.
