Swan Lake / "Enemy Mine"

Questions I Asked Heading Into Enemy Mine and How They Were Answered

1. How would it compare to Beast Moans, which was inconsistent, but worthwhile thanks to impressive zeniths? As much of a fan as a I am of the artists involved in Swan Lake (Carey Mercer, Spencer Krug, and Dan Bejar), the group's debut album was not up to expectations. Signs of life, however, were seen in outstanding tracks such as "All Fires" and "Are You Swimming in Her Pools?" As I prepared to listen to Enemy Mine for the first time, I was cautiously optimistic that the three talented musicians at the core of Swan Lake could build off Beast Moans' highlights while reaching a level of consistency that album never had. Turns out, not so much. After the Carey Mercer opening number "Spanish Gold, 2044" validates the optimism by letting Mercer's compelling and unique vocals carry the song over a plodding beat out of Wolf Parade's down-tempo playbook, things slowly but explicitly slide downhill. By the time the album gets to the convoluted mess that is "Warlock Psychologist" all hopes are diminished. Compared to Beast Moans. Enemy Mine fades sooner, has fewer lasting highlights and impressions, and is frankly quite dismissible.
2. Can Swan Lake ever span the classic album their talents are capable of? With two albums into the books and only three or four tracks worth of great material between the two, Swan Lake appears more and more like a masturbatory side project for all its members. Maybe they don't want to bring out their best material for an album not as closely tied to their musical legacy. It's not like Swan Lake is an outlet for the artists' more experimental fancies. Take any Frog Eyes album and it will take infinitely more risks than both Swan Lake albums combined. So what is Swan Lake? Is it nothing more than a way for Krug, Mercer, and Bejar to crank out more albums (all are renowned for being in three-plus bands as it is) regardless to if the trio is diluting their talents or not? Don't get the wrong impression, the songs on Enemy Mine not named "Spanish Gold, 2044" aren't by any means terrible songs (exception being the aforementioned "Warlock Psychologist"); they just aren't at the level of any of the artists' best - or even notable - songs. Perhaps the trio has a classic in them, but it's going to take a much more substantial effort. I mean, come on. The laughable Bowie impersonating which comprises the last two minutes of "A Hand at Dusk"? I thought I was listening to Flight of the Conchords.
3. Is a group really a "super-group" if no one in the band has even had a gold record? From an artistic standpoint, yes, Swan Lake are capable of being a super-group, even if Frog Eyes and Destroyer aren't exactly household names (unless you're referring to the Kiss album). When attempting to warrant the title based on artistic merit, however, that merit needs to be conveyed on the group's albums, not simply implied due to the triumphs each artist has individually achieved. Generally speaking, that takes more than two great songs per album.
4. But, hey, it's still better than Surfing by Megapuss, right? Yeah, so it has that going for it.

Rating: 5.8

DOOM / "Born Like This"

Daniel Dumile was once not only one of hip-hop's greatest working artists, he was also one of its most prolific. Hell, in a two-year span he dropped three of the most original and striking albums the genre has seen this decade ("Take Me to Your Leader" as King Geedorah, "Madvillainy" as Madvillain, and "Vaudeville Villain" as Viktor Vaughn). Then after 2005's mediocre-by-his-standards "DangerDoom" collaboration with Danger Mouse... nothing. But here he is, four years later, and finally making a return to the studio. The problem is, it just doesn't feel right. "Born Like This" is Dumile all right, with yet another moniker, but at the same time it doesn't sound like the artist I remember. There's something missing besides just the MF.

For one, the production is lousy nearly all across the board. I counted two songs out of seventeen ("Rap Ambush" and "Cellz") with beats that didn't sell DOOM short. Compared to the revelatory production on "Madvillainy" and the nearly as impressive production on "Leader" and the first Viktor Vaughn album, nothing here would even cut it as a B-side. Quite frankly, these beats wouldn't have sounded relevatory in 1989, nevermind 2009.

But, hey, people don't tune into a DOOM album for the production anyway. His main draw is his labyrinthine and ludicrously great rhyme flow. After all, Mos Def said he'd "bet a million dollars on DOOM against Lil Wayne." If we're comparing DOOM circa 2009 to Wayne circa 2008, I think Mos Def would be losing money faster than AIG at this point. I've listened to this album through eight times now. Maybe two or three lines stuck with me, and those were for all the wrong reasons, and all on the same track, "Batty Boyz." The song is the first time DOOM has ever sounded this vicious, but his anger is not directed at other MCs, but rather at homosexuals. Opening with a variety of homophobic sound bites from various sources (I think I even heard a Jeff Dunham puppet in there. What?) it goes on to basically spew hate-speak and bigotry for three minutes straight.

Now, I'm not naive. I realize homophobia and hip-hop have been bedfellows for some time now, and some of the most bashing albums are actually among the genre's best (see: "The Marshall Mathers LP"). But with Eminem it's expected, and it's all part of his persona, like it or leave it. It's never been part of DOOM's repetoire, and the track leaves a confused and slightly bitter feeling with the listener.

What's saddest about "Born Like This" is that "Batty Boyz" is really the only thing I remember about the whole album. While its remaining sixteen tracks aren't bad (well, maybe a couple are), they leave no discernable impression upon the listener. No "America's Most Blunted" or "Never Dead" to be found here. Five years or silence and instead of that long-rumored Ghostface collaboration we get this? Perhaps the man himself spells it out best on "Ballskin": "Don't believe the hyperbole." Generously, this is a poor man's "Supreme Clinetele"; realistically, it's a barely above-average album by an artist who has proven time and again capable of so much more. Hopefully it won't take him another four years to redeem himself for this misfire.

Rating: 6.1

Dead Mellotron / "Ghost Light Constellation" EP

2009 has been a great year for music already. First, Animal Collective's "Merriweather Post Pavilion" proved to be every bit the masterpiece the hype had suggested. Next, Phantom Band released an album ("Checkmate Savage") which appeared poised to challenge "Merriweather" for album of the year up until December. Now this: relative unknown Dead Mellotron's "Ghost Light Constellation" EP, a muscial achievement so crowning as to topple both of the aforementioned albums, and to set its sights upon being not only one of the year's finest albums, but one of the decade's most impressive releases.

The description for this album might as well have read "a lo-fi reimagining of all of Erik Hukriede's favorite rock genres." Throughout its eight tracks, it tackles alternative, ambient, post-rock, shoegaze, and also manages to successfully incorporate elements of noise and electronica. Album opener "Nothing I Ever Imagined" builds itself up from the skeletal blueprints of shoegaze, leaving room for creativity and genre revision. The guitar is brought further to the forefront, amplified to crash over everything like a tidal wave. The vocals are buried in the mix, functioning more as an additional instrument than a means of conveying words. The percussion shoots through the fog of haze like escaping light beams. Everything is illuminated, and it is brilliant.

The brilliance carries over through each of the remaining tracks. "I Woke Up" is aptly titled, an ambient guitar piece swirling sonically as the sound gets bigger and nearer, like leaving a dream to rejoin reality. "I Hate the Way Things Are" opens with a dance/electronica beat before a menacing guitar enters in and obliterates the conscious, before slowly returning to melody. It's the musical direction Fuck Buttons should have taken post-"Sweet Love for Planet Earth" had they wanted to remain ahead of the curve. "Heart Flutter" operates as a form of break for the listener, all minimal drum machine and keyboard arrangments with little in the way of variation. By itself, it is not an overly impressive track, but it fits perfectly into the context of the album as a whole.

"Dress Rehearsal" signals a return to the rock side of the EP, and is the most straightforward rock track on the album. It is also one of the few times the vocals are both audible and distinguishable, although even here they remain down in the mix. The song ends with a guitar solo which abruptly ceases as "Saltwater (Beach House)" begins. As the sounds of waves crashing across the shore set the exposition, guitar, keyboard, and drums fade in and out while distorted vocals further set the mood. Simply put, it is one the finest ambient rock tracks I've heard in the last five years. The album closes with the two longest songs, "Untitled" and the title track. "Untitled" is an amalgamation of post-rock and ambient, and manages to exemplify both genres simultaneously in only a four-minute run time. "Ghost Light Constellation" ends the disc on a high note, although at this point it's more like a peak sticking up from a very elevated plateau. Reminiscent of Tangerine Dream's electronica masterstroke, "Phaedra," the song rides extended keyboard notes while percussion kicks away to keep the pace. As the percussion gives away, the songs bleeds away slowly, before both it and the album end.

"Ghost Light Constellation" combines a plethora of disparate elements with such fluidity in a way unseen since "Kid A." Cohesive, masterful, and unique, it is a new artist not only making a name for himself, but challenging all of his contemporaries to reach the same zenith he has. It might be awhile before the challenge is accepted. This album is just that incredible.

Rating: 9.7

Kanye West / "808s & Heartbreak"

Let me just get it out of the way right now, I'm giving this album a 10.0. For better and worse, it's the quintessential Kanye West album. It's Kanye West telling everyone and everything that isn't Kanye West to fuck off, including rap music and Kanye West's fans. Kanye West doesn't care about any of that shit. Kanye West only loves Kanye West. Kanye West knows Kanye West is invincible. Kanye West can premiere Kanye West's latest video on "The Ellen DeGeneres Show." It doesn't matter. There's no knocking Kanye West. Kanye West can make an entire album using autotuner, and expect Kanye West's fans to pay money to own it. Kanye West knows that putting the name Kanye West on Kanye West's latest album guarantees the album will sell 500,000 copies (minimum) its first week. It doesn't matter that it's an over-produced, boring, pile of shit which gets old before the first listen is even through. It's the "Metal Machine Music" of autotuners.

Sure, it could be qualified as a hip-hop album. After all, Young Jeezy shits out an awful verse on the annoying-beyond-belief "Amazing", and Lil Wayne almost sort of raps (terribly) on "See You in My Nightmares." Kanye West fans will wonder why Kanye West doesn't rap on the entire album. Kanye West will say something about how Kanye West is "expanding the very meaning of hip-hop, and forever changing the nature of the music for the better" or some bullshit. The truth is Kanye West is content to do whatever Kanye West wants to do, and will continue to do whatever Kanye West wants to do as long as Kanye West is making money, and then Kanye West will speak out against every review which dares question the artistic merit of "808s & Heartbreak" and question the integrity of the Grammy Awards (as if they had any to begin with) when the album fails to win every major category. The thing is, at first I thought it was all just a big gimmick on the part of Kanye West. Kanye West's ego couldn't possibly be that inflated, right? I was wrong.

I think Kanye West actually believes this is a classic masterpiece of an album, a 10.0 album. Kanye West will stand up for and defend this album against anyone and everyone. Kanye West will hear the criticism, sure, and Kanye West will address it as Kanye West always does. The thing is though, it won't really bother Kanye West. Kanye West will know at the end of the day that Kanye West is still the greatest musical composer since Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Kanye West won't let the fans' disgust at this horrid album unruffle Kanye West. George Bush doesn't care about black people, and Kanye West doesn't care about Kanye West's fans. "808s & Heartbreak" is the archetype Kanye West album for precisely that reason. It's not made for you, the fans. It's made for Kanye West, and you know Kanye West loves it and thinks it's flawless.

Rating: 10.0

(Kanye West loves the score I gave Kanye West, but did complain that I didn't use Kanye West's name enough.)

The Streets / "Everything is Borrowed"

(sigh) I didn't even want to review this album...

Let me just get it out now: "Everything is Borrowed" is a terrible album. That the album will be his penultimate brings about mixed emotions. On one hand, Skinner has shown in the past to be a talented, and in many ways groundbreaking, artist whose work will be missed. However, on the other hand, with the trajectory mapped out by the development (or lack thereof) from "A Grand Don't Come for Free" to "The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living" to this suggests it's tragically for the best if he just fades out. It's a sad and surprising story that someone who arrived with as much to say on his debut as Skinner, someone who reached even further with his craft on his sophomore album, and looked as though he were ready to be a major musical voice for years to come, would fade out with such a dim light.

Make no mistakes, whereas "Hardest Way" was upsetting in its stagnation and its failure to meet either of its preceding albums, "Everything is Borrowed" leaves the listener stoic. It suggests Skinner is out of ideas, or good ones anyway. Instead of angry, the listener simply sighs in the realization that The Streets is not only failing to meet expectations, but that Skinner has eliminated any reasonable reason for expectations to even exist entering album number five.

There's nothing interesting on this album. It doesn't fail under the weight of its own ambitions. It has no ambitions. I don't even know what he was aiming to accomplish. "Original Pirate Material" sought to translate the life of a regular Londoner into hip-hop with a twist, making the mundane into something of great interest. "A Grand Don't Come for Free" remains Skinner's masterpiece, a soap opera set to music which has lost none of its dramatic flair or intrigue in the four-plus years since its release. Even the mediocre-at-best "Hardest Way" attempted to translate the life-as-art approach of "Original Pirate Material" to Skinner's current life of luxury, but failed due to a lack of creativity and a lack of connection to the listener.

"Everything is Borrowed" is Skinner making an album. Period. His verses, which were always even more of a selling point than his production, are lousy. One listen to "Heaven for the Weather" tells you all you need to know. Skinner has no flow, his lyrics aren't creative, and the song is about as captivating as watching Carnie Wilson's gastric bypass surgery online. His production occasionally shines through ("The Sherry Ends", "Alleged Legends"), but not until the album is nearly over, by which time I was only continuing to listen so I could write this review.

People grow up and mature. You can't expect artists to stay in the mold they began in. Skinner isn't the same kid making beats on his laptop and rapping about smoking pot and trying to land women while turning it all into a social commentary of sorts, just like Conor Oberst isn't the same emo kid screaming his insecurities. But just like Bright Eyes became decreasingly interesting since "Fevers and Mirrors" before bottoming out with last year's neutered alt-country strummer "Cassadaga", The Streets no longer desires to make music like he used to. That's fine, I suppose. I just no longer desire to listen to his music.

Rating: 2.0

Chad VanGaalen / "Soft Airplane"

I'd be lying if I told you I was entirely sold on Chad VanGaalen entering the year 2008. Sure, his debut album, "Infiniheart" was a reasonably impressive lo-fi recorded singer-songwriter album and his most recent album (and second overall), "Skelliconnection", earned some nice buzz and a Polaris Prize nomination. However, the change from "Infiniheart" to "Skelliconnection" did not hint that VanGaalen has ready to make the jump to being a premiere artist. His latest offering, "Soft Airplane", finally sees VanGaalen taking advantage of SubPop's technology and releasing an album that captures and solidifies all of his talents.

Opening with the bizarre but nonetheless interesting Devandra Banhart sound-alike "Willow Tree", VanGaalen finally hits his stride with "Bones of Man" and never looks back. "Bones of Man" begins with VanGaalen's voice accompanying a simple guitar line before adding harmonizing vocals, xylophones, and a myriad of odds and ends. Too many chefs may spoil a stew according to the old adage, but VanGaalen knows the perfect portioning. As the song parlays from refrain to one instrumental solo to the next before fading into static, there are no doubts to VanGaalen's talents as a composer, lyricist, or performer. "Cries of the Dead" combines cryptic lyrics ("I can hear the cries of the dead, muffled by the ground, but still loud enough to make it out") and an upbeat pop beat into a song that would be humorously ironic if it weren't so fucking good

His influences are vast and scattered. "Bare Feet on Wet Griptape" sounds like the Talking Heads, both vocally and sonically. "Poisonous Hands" hints at Grandaddy, with its space-age vocals and distant guitar. Hell, "TMNT" (which, yes, does stand for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) is a dance-rock track in the vein of LCD Soundsystem with a (no joke) harmonica solo! In the same way Beck used to do during his creative zenith, VanGaalen takes a disparate elements, slams them together, and creates a coexistence where one would seem unlikely or even near impossible. It's undeniably captivating music. From beginning to end, "Soft Airplane" explores new sonic possibilities, mesmerizes the listener with its beauty and creativity, and never becomes static or redundant.

In fact, the second half of the album might be even better than the disc's exemplary first half. "Molten Light" embraces VanGaalen's lo-fi roots magnificently and the effects combined with the chorus of "she'll find you and she'll kill you!" gives the song an eerie, hypnotic aura. "Old Man + The Sea" drowns VanGaalen's vocals in effects and instruments, only allowing it to approach the forefront as the song changes fronts and sonics during the refrain. "City of Electric Light" somehow manages to sound like Destroyer, Smog, and the Microphones simultaneously, and is every bit as good as those impressive influences. "Rabid Bits of Time" opens "you've been dead for years, but you never knew" before becoming a slow, quiet, melancholic burner of a track. "No one knows where we go when we're dead or when we're dreaming" sings VanGaalen as the song broods with the percussion of tambourines before more and more instruments slowly enter and exit the picture like characters in a play, each delivering one poignant line and exiting the stage. It gives way to a grumble and effects which sound like a train passing over rails. Closer "Frozen Energon" sounds like nothing else on the album, an ambient noise track with blips and static filling the remaining space. The album opens with a hum, and closes in an eruption of noise. In between, it is no less than one of the most original and exciting albums I've heard all year.

Rating: 9.1

TV on the Radio / "Dear Science"

This is how you get popular without selling out. TV on the Radio have followed an ideal timeline for a band to achieve mainstream success without changing their sound to meet Top 40 standards. Arriving fully-formed and loaded with the incredible "Young Liars" EP in 2003, they were hit-and-miss (fortunately the former more than the latter) on their debut full-length "Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes" before fulfilling their early promise with 2006's excellent "Return to Cookie Mountain". Now comes "Dear Science", which takes the astronomical expectations forged by the success of "Cookie Mountain" and strides past them without breaking a sweat. TV on the Radio have crafted a career-defining masterpiece, while sounding as effortless as they ever have on record.

Opener "Halfway Home" swells with the energy of a dormant volcano awaiting eruption. Lead singer Tunde Adebimpe's falsetto floats across waves of muffled feedback and Dave Sitek's programmed drums guide the song on a linear path toward the inevitable eruption at the 4:30 mark. It's an even better opener than the near-perfect "I Was a Lover" from "Cookie Mountain" and establishes both the pop-oriented nature of the record as well as the quality of the tracks. Whereas "Cookie Mountain" was an album of expanding the boundaries of alternative music and creating beauty from the dark chasms of Sitek's production, "Dear Science" sees the band reaching that perfect mixture of pop music's popular sensibilities and the expansion-seeking experimentation of independent music, the way artists like David Bowie used to do. In fact, "Crying" sounds like vintage post-Berlin Bowie, with it's radio-ready beat and smooth yet expressive vocals. Lead single "Dancing Choose" begins with Adebimpe making use of a rap / spoken-verse delivery. Carried more by energy than composition, the song nonetheless succeeds, even if it's not quite the single "Wolf Like Me" was in 2006.

The album's torrid pace slows for yet another stand-out track in "Stork and Owl", before kicking back up to dance music speed with "Golden Age". "There's a golden age, comin' round, comin' round, comin' round!" sings Adebimpe with hope as the strings and drums and synthesizer give the song its intoxicating allure and make it impossible to deny. "Family Tree" is the album's slowest track, and while not as immediate as the tracks preceding it, it nonetheless remains beautiful, both lyrically and sonically. "We're laying in the shadow of your family tree, your haunted heart and me... There's a hundred hearts soar free, pumping blood to the roots of evil to keep it young" sings Adebimpe, his lyrics enigmatic yet poignant, made all the more visceral through the harp and woodwinds which lead the song. If there's any low point on this album, it's "Red Dress". An anti-war song, beginning "a-hey Jackboot! Fuck your war! I'm fat and in love and no bombs are fallin’ on me for sure." The vocals are just as ludicrous as the lyrics read, and the song never really finds its footing.

However, this lack of footing is only a misstep, not a full-out fall. The album reasserts itself with the slowly-building and irresistably poppy "Shout Me Out", which goes from bubblegum to guitar rock without missing a beat. The guitar solo which comprises the song's second half is easily the best guitar work the band has ever shown. "DLZ" is the late highlight of the album, propelled by the darkest mood on the album, recalling the best songs of "Cookie Mountain" and "Young Liars". Adebimpe makes more from a refrain of "la la la's" than should be possible, and the song starts off supremely well and only continues to get better and better as it progresses. Simply put, it's a perfect track.

"Lover's Day" closes the album on a high note, all anthemic rock and no pretense. The band brings out a marching band worth of instruments, holding nothing back. It's an apt summary of the album. TV on the Radio continue to expand their sound, all while making it increasingly user-friendly. I can't imagine that "Dear Science" will fail to add to their fan-base and the fervor which surrounds their album releases. I'd say it would be a hard album to top, but with the level of talent and execution on display, there really is no limit to what this band can do.

Rating: 9.0

A Series of Quick Reviews

The Review is back with three new reviews...

Mount Eerie / "Black Wooden Ceiling Opening": "What's in a name?" asked Juliet in the second act of Shakespeare's famous play. "Would Phil Elvrum's music by any other name not sound as sweet?" asked Erik as he prepared to listen to the newest release by the former Microphones genius under his Mount Eerie moniker. The answer is not as clear-cut as one would imagine. "BWCO" is undoubtedly an Elvrum work, but it never grabs the listener the way that the best Microphones albums did. Whereas with albums such as "The Glow, Pt. 2" or "Mount Eerie", Elvrum would build to his crescendos gracefully and subtly, making their impact all the more substantial, on "BWCO" he seems lackadaisical in his approach. For example, on album centerpiece "In Moonlight", Elvrum begins with an interesting anecdote of walking down a road and seeing what he thinks to be a car, before realizing "there was no car; it was me revealed in moonlight." Then Elvrum decides "what the hell, I might as well just throw a giant guitar jam in" and jerks the listener out of the story. This process of lazily and randomly placing pieces which should act as culminations might seem brave and artistic at first, but over and entire album of repeating the process (albeit only a 6 track EP) it nullifies the effect of these zeniths and leaves the listener to wonder whatever happened to Mr. Elvrum between 2003 (when "Mount Eerie" was released) and now that caused him to lose his grasp on song composition, especially when largely the lyrics are still so strong. Sure, it's a good album, but it so easily could've been great, especially for someone with the obvious talent of Phil Elvrum.
Rating: 7.5

Kingdom Shore / "... And All the Dogs to Shark": You know how someone will play an album for you, and should you dare to not find it revelatory you will be told "you just don't get it"? Well, I just don't get Kingdom Shore. Kingdom Shore, the brain-child of Mark Molnar, consists of four violins all playing separate parts at the same time. The best way to describe the sound is to take Jonny Greenwood's "There Will Be Blood" score at its most dissonant, take whatever means of rhythm still exist, remove them entirely, and then throw another violin or two into the mix each playing with no sense of timing or melody (hear a sample here). The entire thing is borderline unlistenable, and considering the average track runs well over nine minutes, only a fan of the most far-fetched avant-garde music would find this compelling. If Greenwood's "There Will Be Blood" score soundtracked a man selling his soul for oil and power, then "... And All the Dogs to Shark" is the sound of the hell he was forced to suffer in the after-life.
Rating: 0.6

Shearwater / "Rook": Shearwater could be considered a side-project of Okkervil River in the way the Silver Jews were once seen as a Pavement side-project: the two bands share members, one is better-known than the other, and the two bands sound fundamentally different. Just in the way the Silver Jews' "American Water" propelled them to being argued to be just as good as late-era Pavement, "Rook" will arouse debate that Shearwater may have surpassed Okkervil River in quality. The album is relatively slow-paced, and is carried on the strength of frontman Jonathan Meiburg's vocals, and what a voice he has! His gorgeous tenor is able to carry minimal arrangments, or accompany his band beautifully. While the band occasionally loses focus (the second half of "On the Death of the Waters", the too-fanciful "Lost Boys"), when they hit they knock it out of the park. The penultimate track, "Snow Leopard", is the current leader in the race for song of the year. Beginning with a piano line reminiscent of Radiohead's classic "The Pyramid Song", Meiburg coos "let the moon do its work on your body" and lets the mood encapsulate the listener before crying out "waa!" and letting the guitar and drum enter the picture. As the song turns its intensity up, Meiburg matches it and the rest of the song becomes a thrilling game of "let's see you top this!" between Meiburg and his accompaniment. To call it beautiful is to use lazy terms for a song that demands so much more. It's a majestic composition that leaves me no doubt that someday Shearwater could craft some of the finest music in the coming years. This is Shearwater's coming out party, and you don't want to miss it.
Rating: 8.5

Beck / "Modern Guilt"

As years and albums pass, I suspect "Guero" marked the end of Beck's importance and inventiveness. On that album, Beck more or less followed the mold of the best songs in his catalogue and then slapped a new label on it (see: "E-Pro" versus "Devil's Haircut"). He followed it up by remixing his rehashes as the entirely unnecessary "Guerolito". After that came "The Information", which despite moments of inspiration, was still Beck's worst album to date. His descent continues with "Modern Guilt", which manages to bring together two unlikely pairings: Beck Hansen and boredom.

On "Modern Guilt", producer Danger Mouse continues on his roll of making exciting artists sound tedious, following his efforts with The Black Keys' "Attack and Release" and Gnarls Barkley's ill-fated "The Odd Couple". The album has no idea what it's shooting for, which worked for "Odelay", but instead of shooting in all directions at once as that masterpiece did, Danger Mouse and Beck take time to aim and still misfire before trying to find momentum in a different sonic area. "Gamma Ray" aims for the irresistible pop of "Odelay" and "Midnite Vultures", but is neither interesting enough to draw the listener in nor catchy enough to warrant repeated listens. "Youthless" rides a robotic beat as a pseudo-dance number in the vein of "Hell Yes", but becomes redundant. "Replica" is a sloppily-executed song where the duo of Danger Mouse and Beck attempt to throw enough disparate elements together until it turns out to be something extraordinary. While some of the pieces are interesting, when mixed together the bright individual colors come out grey.

While "Modern Guilt" may be defined by its shortcomings, there are still successes to speak of. "Soul of a Man" stomps in with a distinct guitar chord and thick drums as Beck asks "what makes the soul, the soul of a man?" It's certainly not the best song Beck's ever recorded, but it's far from boring. However, if even his brightest moments on current discs pale in comparison to what lies in his past, it raises the question of the relevancy of Beck's current work. His past albums either nourished the ADD-inflicted consumer culture of today by creating musical and lyrical splatterings across an ever-changing canvas of genres ("Mellow Gold", "Odelay", "Midnite Vultures"), showcased Beck's underappreciated gifts as a songwriter and his folk roots ("Sea Change"), or both ("Mutations"). "Modern Guilt" is indecisive in what it wants to be, and ultimately becomes little more than 'Beck's 10th Album'. I'll do with it what I did with "The Information": listen to it for a handful of weeks, delete it from my Zune to make room for something new, and only recall it when 'Beck's 11th Album' comes out and I need something to compare that album to which it won't be dwarfed by.

If you'll excuse me, I've got to listen to "Odelay" again now and sigh.

Rating: 4.6

Sigur Rós / "Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust"

Sigur Rós are still the only band on my humble site to receive a 10.0 review. Their debut, I wrote, was "an album that is comprised of songs in name only. These aren't 'songs', they're epiphanies and moments of self-realization. A reminder of all that is glorious in this world." Given such lofty praise (and I was hardly alone in my adoration of "Ágætis Byrjun"), it was a nearly impossible act to follow. Their next two studio albums, "( )" and "Takk..." were in a similar vein to "Ágætis Byrjun" in that they were composed of beautiful, slowly unveiling miniature symphonies carried by the vocals of lead singer Jónsi Birgisson. While fine albums in their own right, it was an impossible task to make an album similar to "Ágætis Byrjun" that would be of superior quality and artistic merit. The band's latest album, "Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust", which translates to "With a Buzz in Our Ears We Play Endlessly" in English, sees the band attempting new goals and strategies musically. Instead of attempting to impress the listener, as their previous albums sought to largely successfully, the band is instead simply making music which expresses the variety of emotions which it (and life) provokes.

From the beginning seconds of opening track "Gobbledigook", it is clear that this is a vastly different record than anything else in the Sigur Rós discography. The song stomps along merrily at a speed which is jarring relative to the band's past work. It doesn't build toward anything, content to simply exist as a brief, beautiful pop song. It will surprise those familiar with the band upon first listen, but becomes as vital of a work as nearly anything in their catalogue. The exuberance and joy of "Gobbledigook" carries into "Inní Mér Syngur Vitleysingur". Again, the song is much quicker and less expansive than the band's usual output, but is still an immediate and engrossing listen. "Góðan Daginn", on the other hand, sees the band playing more in the vein of "Takk...". Jónsi Birgisson floats his vocals effortlessly along the keys, guitar, and string of the band as the backing vocals seem to power him along. It's much more attuned to the senses than the beginning of the album, as so many of their finest songs are. While not neccessarily impressive compared to the finest moments of "Ágætis Byrjun", it fits beautifully in the context of the album.

"Við Spilum Endalaust" returns to the ecstasy of the earlier moments. At this point in the album, I'm surprised to find it to be a pop album, which is far from what the band sounded like when they first hit America in 2000 and 2001. That tide changes again with the 9-minute opus of "Festival", which is as much opera as pop. Birgisson may have sounded more otherwordly before, but never has he had a vocal performance like that displayed on the first half of this track. To call it simply beautiful is to do it injustice. In the second half, the percussion and guitars return and the song builds to a crescendo as vocals swirl faintly in the mix like distant seraphs. It's everything a Sigur Rós song is supposed to be, and for the first time on the album the band has crafted a lovely piece which sounds like listener expectations.

"Suð Í Eyrum" is another lovely moment, feeling simplistic despite containing a vast array of disparate elements. This is further evidence of the band's stunning ability to meld many individual sounds into a unified melody. It breezes along placidly, and like a brief but pleasant chill on a summer day, is gone. "Ára Bátur" marks the second time the band tops the 8-minute runtime. It continues as little more than Birgisson singing over minimal arrangements until about the 7-minute mark, when a choir and strings take over, lifting the song to new heights. It's exhilirating the first time, but the long length doesn't reward multiple listens. "Illgresi" is an acoustic piece which never takes off in the way many of the band's numbers do. It's hardly exhausting or boring at only four minutes, but is a bit of a disappointment overall. The slow pace and largely minimalist nature of the album's second half continue with "Fljótavík" and "Straumnes" which never amount to the glorious highs of the band's best work, although the final 45 seconds of the former makes a worthwhile attempt.

However, any disappointment in the second half is cured by the final track, "All Alright". When I heard pre-release that the song would be the band's first in English, I was a bit anxious. After all, part of the wonder of Sigur Rós is their songs (whether in Hopelandic or Icelandic) rely more on touching emotions than evoking them shallowly through words. However, "All Alright" is transcendent. The fragility and quiver of Birgisson's vocals gives the song a haunting aura, and it is a genuinely chilling and touching finale, regardless of language.

"Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust" might not be the 10.0 decade-defining classic of "Ágætis Byrjun", but it conveys the intelligence and self-awareness of the band. They've made history already. They're not out to speak the language of angels this time around; they're out to convey the happiness, sorrow, anguish, and hope of the human condition, as represented by the change in cover art from the fetal angel of "Ágætis Byrjun" to the naked, revealed people which grace the cover of this album. It's not perfect, but neither is humanity. Imperfections don't impede art from being breathtaking.

Rating: 8.7

Girl Talk / "Feed the Animals"

(Erik attempts a review of a mash-up album with a mash-up review...)

I never know what to say about mash-up records. You can say that Girl Talk was the pioneer of the mash up that helped bring them to a wider audience. Unlike mash-up makers in it to figure out the lamest way to combine two song titles, justify their existence with cheap mp3 blog Diggs, or wind up in a Cobrasnake shot with some Olsen twin look-a-like, Gillis just really likes stuffing tons of his favorite FM moments into bursts of Top 40 overload. But the album is more than just a gimmick: Gillis makes some samples sound like brand-new music with a more complicated message: "The whole basis of the music is that people have these emotional attachments to these songs. Being able to manipulate that is a really easy way to connect with people." What does this mean for "Feed the Animals" though? Feed the Animals is a good record. Though it’s broken up into 14 tracks, it functions best (and as Girl Talk intends) as a single 53-minute mash-up. There are no contradictions here; it’s just like scanning across several radio stations simultaneously, while everything magically synchs up. The real fun of Feed the Animals is the act of recognition, so I won’t say much more, except this—Lil Mama’s “Lip Gloss” over the riff from Metallica’s “One?” The best part? It's available free and/or cheaply at your own discretion. $0 gets you 320kbps MP3s, $5 gets you high quality FLAC files, and $10 gets you a physical copy of the CD. Damn!

In short...

Feed the Animals = NICER DICER!!

Damn, indeed.

Rating: 8.2

Coldplay / "Viva La Vida"

I've made no secret of my disdain for Coldplay's previous album, the polarizing "X & Y". However, with pre-release news that their new album would be of a more experimental nature (without the heavy synthesizers that sank "X & Y" for me) and produced by the one of music's most brilliant minds (Brian Eno), morale was high. After all, I enjoyed "Parachutes" and found "A Rush of Blood to the Head" to be a near-masterpiece. As Meat Loaf famously put it, "two out of three ain't bad". However, when I finally heard the finished product of "Viva La Vida" my reaction was that Coldplay has made their most impressive album, but it lacked the compelling heart-tugging anthems which helped their best work to be more than the sum of its parts. There are songs to love, sure, but nothing to fall in love with.

The album begins with Eno's assistance very evident. "Life in Technicolor" is a nearly-instrumental number which seamlessly blends Eno's best pop work of the 1970's with Coldplay's fist-pumping crowd-pleasers. It ends on a crescendo of sorts, before "Cemeteries of London" begins. The sound is again fuller, the execution flawless, and the lyrics ("there are ghost-towns in the ocean... I see God come in my garden") shrouded in mystique with a gothic nature. Simply put, it's excellent. Through the fog cast over by "Cemeteries of London", the organ notes forming the base of "Lost!" shine through like a beacon as Chris Martin offers up an example of the arena-sized sing-along anthems which have become Coldplay's signature as their sound and following have expanded. While never gripping, it's delivered efficiently and compacts as much energy as a Coldplay song can in under 4-minutes.

"42" begins slowly, but effectively, as Martin's vocals are strengthened in an audio illusion of sorts by the strings accompanying him. Halfway through, however, the songs shifts fronts to a straightforward rocker with the memorable hook "you thought you might be a ghost. You didn't get to heaven, but you made it close". The guitar, combined with a subdued jazz piano in the background, lead a nice if not a bit forgettable outro into the near-seven minute "Lovers in Japan". The track is split into two parts, the first a stomp which will sound familiar to anyone who's listened to U2 (although it's not a rip-off, like 2005's "Talk" was to Kraftwerk's "Computer Love"). The piano takes the lead in an upbeat fashion above the muffled roar of guitar. It may not sound entirely original, but it sure is easy to listen to. The second movement sees the guitar taking a further step back as it is replaced by another piano. It could be called the "sensitive" part following the "rock" part. It could also be called the "dull" part following the "exhilirating" part.

Rock makes a return on "Yes". The song features the smoothest guitar playing on the record. Again, the song consists of two movements. The first is the "heavier" movement (although this is Coldplay, not Zeppelin, we're talking about) whereas the second is basically a glorified guitar piece with indiscernable vocals and drums. Overall, the song is another great listen and segues well into the lead single and title track. "Viva La Vida" is the kind of song that gets stuck in your head, but you don't mind a wink. The strings are lush and melodic, the lyrics political and somewhat personal without being blunt, and Martin's vocals (as well as the group's backing vocals) pristine. "Violet Hill" is a solid, though not-quite-brilliant guitar track, with Martin's best lyrical work on the album. "I don't want to be a soldier who the captain of some sinking ship would stow, far below", he sings, reflecting either losing love or losing faith in leadership depending on your interpretation of the song.

"Strawberry Swing" is the kind of pleasant, whimsical, and disregardable song that works at filling up a tracklist without detracting from the overall quality of the album, but will be little more than a nice after-thought when reflecting on the album. Closer "Death and All His Friends" is the third song on the album to top the six-minute mark. Despite the tenebrific title, the song actually functions as a fairly upbeat sing-along number, or in other words Coldplay being Coldplay. It segues into the same rich melody which began the album, only with expanded sound and Martin's vocals singing about the end. Comparisons to the penultimate track on "Abbey Road" are easily justified. As one critic noted, it "is sort of a Brian Eno take on 'The End.'" Too true.

With "Viva La Vida", any conflicting opinions of the music were not from listener-to-listener as they were with "X & Y", but rather within myself. It's impossible to deny its merits: the production is absolutely flawless, perhaps the best I've heard on a record all year; the album is without a weak link; the politics of the album are handled with a reasonable amount of subtlety. However, without the emotional pull of their most compelling works, such as "Warning Sign" and "The Scientist", I felt as though it were only a beautiful vase. Great to look at, but nothing inside. It is an incredibly and impeccably well-decorated vase though.

Rating: 7.9

Lil Wayne / "Tha Carter III"

Where to begin with "Tha Carter III"? Thanks to a plethora of stellar mixtapes since Lil Wayne's last studio album (2005's "Tha Carter II"), more than a handful of inspiring guest spots, and more internet buzz than perhaps any hip-hop album ever, it was easily the most anticipated album of the year (and last year, as well). After selling approximately one million copies in its first week alone, receiving praise from all kinds of critics, and dominating music discussion across the web, it has become more of an event than an album. What's interesting is the album is surprisingly predictable. Your view of Weezy F. Baby isn't likely to change significantly after this album. If you came in thinking he was (as he claims) "the best rapper alive", there's enough white-hot couplets to fill a review and back up your claim. If you entered thinking he was overrated, all the hype tied with the album combined with its inconsistent nature will do little to sway you. If you think he's shit, you're just bitter and there's no talking to you anyway. As for me, the album is far better than "Tha Carter II" and while it does very little we haven't heard from Wayne before, it's still his best album to date, although it's still erratic and not without its dull moments.

Working with a flurry of producers (The Alchemist, Shondrae "Mr. Bangladesh" Crawford, Cool and Dre, Andrews "Drew" Correa, David Banner, Darius "Deezle" Harrison, D. Smith, Infamous, Jim Jonsin, Kanye West, Maestro, Play-N-Skillz, Rodnae, Robin Thicke, Swizz Beatz, StreetRunner) Lil Wayne flows with great fluidity across a variety of beats and sounds. His talent, as always, is unquestionable. His gift of thinking up the most creative and witty similes is seen throughout the album. On "Mr. Carter" (featuring Jay-Z), the album's second track and early highlight, Wayne shows up Sean Carter himself by stringing together lines like "I got summer hatin' on me cause I’m hotter than the sun. Got Spring hatin' on me cause I never sprung. Winter hatin' on me cause I’m colder than y’all, but I will never I will never I will never fall." Unfortunately, each time he hits his stride, he runs into either dull production ("Comfortable") or else kicks into auto-pilot ("A Milli").

However, the highs manage to outweigh the lows significantly. "Phone Hom'" with its space-age beat suiting perfectly Lil Wayne's raps about being "a martian", claiming "they don't make 'em like me no more. In fact, they never made 'em like me before". It's arguably the best track on the album. "Mrs. Officer" is both humorous and an effective slow jam, thanks to a great guest spot by Bobby Valentino. "Shoot Me Down" has a beat (produced by Kanye West) which could work in either a Sergio Leone film or the next Eminem movie. "My picture should be in the dictionary next to the definition of 'definition'" raps Wayne. As he builds more drama and emotion in his vocals throughout the performance, you believe him. He even brings out his guitar, and while he's no Eddie Hazel, he's also better than I would have guessed. The inescapable "Lollipop" is either the jam of the year or a waste of space, depending on your point of view. I hate auto-tuners, so naturally I'm not sold on the song, although the beat is extremely club-ready. Finale "Dontgetit" opens with a sample of Nina Simone's 1964 classic "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" before Wayne takes off with it and raps over a simple-but-effective beat. The album closes with the beat repeating as Wayne discusses his thoughts on politics, racial discrimination, drug enforcement, and sex offenders, among other things. It's an excellent (albeit long at nearly ten minutes) and logical close to the album, one which gives the listener further insight into the twisted and brilliant mind of Lil Wayne.

While it may be the best hip-hop album thus far this year, and certainly the biggest event in hip-hop (or popular music, period) that 2008 will offer, I still think the best is yet to come from Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr. While he might claim (on "Mr. Carter") "next time you mention Pac, Biggie or Jay-Z, don't forget Weezy Baby", this album is far from the overall consistency and quality of "All Eyez on Me", "Ready to Die", and "Reasonable Doubt" respectively. However, it's well within the realm of reason to think he can make an album every bit as compelling as those genre-defining works, and "Tha Carter III" only adds more leverage to his case.

Rating: 8.2

A Series of Quick Reviews

Too many albums, too little time. Situation calls for another "Series of Quick Reviews".

The Dodos / "Visiter":
"Visiter", the Dodos' second album, might be the most easily recommended album so far this year. It might not be album of the year material, but I'd find it hard to believe any fan of rock or pop music would fail to enjoy it. The album is largely drum-driven, and the guitars go from acoustic to electric even within the same song with ease. The musical creativity on "Jodi" alone is more than I've see on entire albums this year (cough-Weezer-cough). The lyrics are straight-forward but work well within the context of their songs. This is clearly a band with a great deal of talent, who is just beginning to tap into it. Sure, not every track is a winner, but the high moments ("Fools" and "Winter", among others) cancel out skippable songs such as "It's That Time Again". You'll want to get "Visiter" now, so as The Dodos popularity swells you can proudly boast you were there early. I can't guarantee you'll like or love this album, but I can guarantee if you don't that you and I have vastly different tastes in music.
Rating: 8.3

Silver Jews / "Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea":
It's been three years since we heard from Dave Berman and the Silver Jews, the band best known for on-again, off-again member Stephen Malkmus and their 9.9-Pitchfork-rated LP "American Water". On "Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea", which arrives in stores June 17th, the band hasn't changed much since 2005's "Tanglewood Numbers" (although this time out Stephen Malkmus is absent), but unfortunately the changes which have occurred have left the band worse off. The most noticeable change is the frequent use of Berman's wife Cassie as a background singer. Her contributions are noticeable, but not in a good way since surprisingly her voice doesn't work well with Berman's gruff baritone. Berman's lyrics are his usual fare of witty Americana and storytelling, but musically the album never really takes off. I actually found myself yawning about halfway though it. Berman can write lyrics, no question, but I still think without Stephen Malkmus to provide the punch and guitar which made "Starlite Walker" and "American Water" so enjoyable he's not nearly as much fun to listen to as he is to read.
Rating: 6.5

Elbow / "The Seldom Seen Kid":
Here's an album that caught me off-guard. I'd never thought Elbow would really develop into much, seeing as none of their first three albums were particularly strong. However, having read glowing reviews of their fourth full-length, "The Seldom Seen Kid", I thought I would give them another listen. Obviously, I'm glad I did. From the opening crashes of "Starlings" this is much more than just another British indie-rock affair. The songs all move slowly, but the compositions are solid and guided gently, but surely, along by lead singer Guy Garvey's vocals. While the band may not be doing anything too radical with their compositions, they're certainly more original than most, and have improved greatly beyond just following the mold laid out by other British artists such as Coldplay and Travis. In between highlights such as "Mirrorball" and "Loneliness of a Tower Crane Driver", the songs are largely strong enough to avoid lag and not only put Elbow back in critical favor, but also make this arguably the best rock release to come out of the United Kingdom so far this year.
Rating: 8.0

Weezer / "Weezer" (The Red Album)

I sat down with Weezer's lead singer and songwriter, Rivers Cuomo, to talk about the group's latest self-titled release.

Erik: Thanks for taking the time to talk to me today. I realize you're very busy promoting the new album.

Rivers: Excuse my manners if I make a scene. (3)

Erik: Uh, okay, no problem. Why would that even be an issue? You seem like a well-mannered guy.

Rivers: 'Cause I'm such a fool. Talk smack and I'm gonna shut you up. (1,2)

Erik: Well, in that case, we'll start this interview in a non-confrontational manner. What do you think of the new album? Are you and the band pleased with how it turned out?

Rivers: Everyone likes to dance to a happy song. If you don't like it, you can shove it. (2,3)

Erik: (mutters) You may want to ignore my rating then.

Rivers: You wanted arts and crafts? How's this for arts and crafts? (lunges forward, eventually restrained) (1)

...

Erik: Look, I get it. You're pissed because "Make Believe" was horrible, so to counteract it you've sought to release an album with the goal of making yourselves look like cool bad-asses.

Rivers: You hate for the kids to think you've lost your cool. (3)

Erik: You may feel that way, but you didn't make your name or your mark by being "cool". Your debut album was the antithesis of the "cool" rock star album. I mean, hell, you say in "Garage" that you have a poster of Peter Criss in your garage. It doesn't get much less cool than that, but people loved it. I mean, let's be honest, Rivers. Lyrics suggesting you "stab the corpses [of roadkill] and lick the knives like we're evil forces" don't sound anywhere close to convincing coming from the guy who looks "just like Buddy Holly".

Rivers: Sorry, but we just missed. Not a single damn thing was true. (7)

Erik: Exactly! And that's why this album is so, well, atrocious. Plus, did you really think a line like "I will protect you, never disrespect you; but if you need love then I'll be here to sex you" would ever have any place in any song on any album? It's like you guys aren't even trying.

Rivers: I got the money and I got the fame! I'm the tops, I'm the king! (2)

Erik: No, you're just the leader of a band who doesn't realize how meaningless they've become. I mean, hell, you guys made "Pinkerton"! What happened? Since that stroke of genius, you waited five years, released two lackluster albums, and then dropped two steaming piles of shit and expected your fans to not notice the smell. Aren't you at least a little ashamed or disappointed in yourself?

Rivers: How do oceans connected by a straw get something through? (9)

Erik: (sigh) It was nice talking to you, Rivers. See you at the county fair in six years.

Rivers: Peace, shalom, peace, shalom, peace, peace, peace, shalom, peace, shalom, peace, peace. (10)

Rating: 1.5

(1) "Troublemaker"
(2) "The Greatest Man that Ever Lived"
(3) "Pork and Beans"
(7) "Thought I Knew"
(9) "Automatic"
(10) "The Angel and the One"

Wolf Parade / "At Mount Zoomer"

On April 9th, as Wolf Parade's sophomore album "At Mount Zoomer" neared completion, label Sub Pop stated the album "might be this generation's 'Marquee Moon'", referencing Television's legendary 1977 debut. After this rush of Wolf Parade's own debut, 2005's "Apologies to the Queen Mary", it almost seemed possible. The string of songs from "Shine a Light" to "I Believe in Anything" is as compelling a series of tracks as anything released this decade. However, because it was an album of mammoth peaks with low plateaus dividing them, it did leave room for improvement. With "At Mount Zoomer", Wolf Parade has found a solution to the inconsistencies, but the none of the songs on the record reach the zenith of the best tracks from "Apologies". Needless to say, it's a good album, but "Marquee Moon" it is not.

"Soldier's Grin" opens the record with energy and plenty of guitar. Like Wolf Parade's previous work, the lyrics are seemingly direct, but abstract enough to leave plenty of room for interpretation. "What you know can only mean one thing," sings Krug in the song's refrain, "rooted to the place you spring from." As the song concludes, early-highlight "Call it a Ritual" marches in, lead by heavy drums and flourishes of guitar. The song appears to be an esoteric anti-war song, possibly about the Iraq, as it begins "into the dessert you will go" before stating "they will swing swing their swords for show while you turn your flower petals so slow." The songs remain solid as the album moves to "Language City" which is more upbeat and poppy than either of the two songs preceding it. The song builds to the kind of crescendo seen on the best "Apologies" tracks as Krug repeats "we are not at home!" before ending with a crash.

"Bang Your Drum" is yet another highlight, as Krug sounds as enthused as ever inviting the listener to "follow me, oh follow me" and "take a dive" as the song glides along gently. It builds slightly and gradually as Krug asks "will you burn your bridges down?" Along with Wolf Parade co-leader Dan Boeckner, Krug forms a nice vocal harmony of la la la's before asking "how can you turn away?" as the song comes to a close. "California Dreamer" sound less like the Beach Boys and more like the theme to a 1970's detective drama, with a subdued mysterious drum, guitar, and synthesizer beat before exploding with the first refrain of "and I think I might have heard it on the radio, but the radio waves were like snow." The song maintains this momentum all the way through the song's 6-minute run time, including the album's first guitar solo.

After the good but not great "The Grey Estates", a staccato guitar line opens "Fine Young Cannibals" (not to be mistaken for the douchebags who recorded "She Drives Me Crazy"). As another guitar enters and exits in spurts before taking over for a solo, the Television comparisons seem much more fitting. The penultimate track, "An Animal in Your Care", is a warped romantic ballad. "Time after time, you will forgive me, like an animal in your care," opens Krug before continuing, "you will outlive me and take the bow back you put in my hair." The lyrics are the strongest on the album, as Krug tells his love "when I die... [you can] sing the songs your lover taught you, when you were too young to know that this was what they were for." The song segues into the 10-minute-plus finale "Kissing the Beehive". If "Fine Young Cannibals" was reminiscent of Television, "Kissing the Beehive" is retrospective of the song "Marquee Moon" itself (in fact, the two songs are only one second apart in run time). If Wolf Parade seemed content on this album to hold back from letting loose as they did so often on "Apologies to the Queen Mary", "Kissing the Beehive" sees the band abandoning this tendency to sculpt a beauty of a closer.

"At Mount Zoomer" may not be quite at the level of the group's debut, but that doesn't make it any less impressive of an album. The group has successfully avoided the 'sophomore slump' while crafting an album without a single lesser track. Besides, this just means I can still await the group releasing the near-flawless masterpiece I know they have in them. In the mean time, this album is good enough to last the wait.

Rating: 8.4

My Morning Jacket / "Evil Urges"

In the Rolling Stone review of "Evil Urges", My Morning Jacket's fifth album, Will Hermes likens the album to "Kid A" and "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" as a dramatic artistic departure for the band. This, by the way, is insane. First of all, both of those records are among the best albums released the entire decade and were breakthroughs sonically and culturally. "Evil Urges", on the other hand, while occasionally sounding like nothing else in the band's cannon is also not as good as any of the band's previous albums (which, if you've been keeping track of, have all been spectacular).

When I got my copy of "Evil Urges" on May 29th, it was easily my most anticipated album of the year, even ahead of Wolf Parade and well ahead of the increasingly-boring Coldplay* and Weezer. This fervor was only further assisted by the fact that the first single and opening track, "Evil Urges", was outstanding. Beginning with the dominant Prince-like falsetto lead singer Jim James first displayed on "Wordless Chorus" from 2005's masterpiece "Z", it rocks with sexuality and energy before breaking down into the band's signature Southern guitar-rock. But after that is when things go downhill. "Touch Me I'm Going to Scream (Part One)" appears to build to a crescendo, but besides a puzzling bagpipe entrance it never happens. The band hits rock bottom on the next track. "Highly Suspicious" might be the worst song the band has ever put to studio album. Beginning with a falsetto as on the title track, James tries to sound sexy and confident while singing some bullshit about "peanut-butter pudding surprise" while a chant of "highly suspicious! highly suspicious at you!" continues in the background. The band awkwardly segues into a mediocre guitar solo and the song comes to a long-awaited close.

Just when I feared I might be dealing with a "Some Loud Thunder" kind of flop, the band returns to form with "I'm Amazed". The song is an absolute gem with the kind of Southern rock and thunder that made 2003's "It Still Moves" a classic. The momentum built by "I'm Amazed" slows some with "Thank You Too", which sounds like Eagles-lite with hackneyed romantic lyrics and refrain vocal harmonies. It's not a bad song, just an extremely forgettable one. "Sec Walking" is the same story as "Thank You Too", although the James' vocal performance is much better than the average one exhibited on "Thank You Too". "Two Halves" is a slight return to form, and while inducing far fewer yawns than the previous two tracks, is nothing special in itself. The next track "Librarian" chronicles James' attempting to woo a librarian out of her prude shell. Combining a soft acoustic guitar with a touch of strings, it rings personal and tender despite the hard-to-be-taken-seriously topic of the song. "Look At You" sounds like their earliest work harkening back to 2001's "At Dawn", which is definitely a good thing. The acoustic guitar and vocals intertwine beautifully. The lyrics more or less sum up the relaxing placidity of the song: "such a glowing example of peace and glory".

"Aluminum Park" and "Remnants" mark a return to the fist-pumping rock of the opening track and are the most captivating tracks on the album since "I'm Amazed". "Smoking From Shooting" is another very solid Southern rock number and features some of the best use of vocal harmonies displayed on the album, as well as a great guitar solo. It fades into "Touch Me I'm Going to Scream (Part Two)", which sounds very little like the first part. Unveiling itself slowly before hitting with a much quicker pace than part one, the guitar bubbles just underneath the surface as the vocals carry the song past the eight minute mark. Unfortunately, the similarity that it shares with part one is that no real crescendo ever takes place and elevates the song to its maximum potential. The closing "track" is "Good Intentions" which consists of nothing more than a crowd cheering for five seconds before James say "okay, cool" and the album ends. In an album that often confounds, it seems a natural conclusion.

"Evil Urges" is simply a frustrating album. It has too many bad tracks to be considered that good, but too many moments which showcase the band at their peak to be written off. However, in the wake of four consecutive incredible studio efforts and an equally thrilling two-disc live album ("Okonokos") it's hard to see it as anything but a disappointment. So, yes, it's a disappointing album, but one of the few which come recommended.

Rating: 7.2

*if only because I hated "X & Y"