Spiritualized Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space (Dedicated/Arista/BMG)
Here's a not-too-jarring fact: Spiritualized's latest was written in 12 days and mixed in two years. So frontman Jason Pierce, alternately known as J. Spaceman, the former lead of Spaceman 3 who once made an album aptly tilted Taking Drugs to Make Music to Take Drugs to, is right when he calls the multi-layered Ladies and Gentlemen... "aural sculpture."
Wooden Stars Mardi Gras (Sappy) Off the top of my head, I'd tag these Ottawans as the house band for a Prozac party at Santa's workshop. As inscrutable as their idiosyncrasies are, Wooden Stars never lose the listener, giving the quirks and quandaries an eloquent and non-threatening flow, banjos, trumpets and all. Backwater pop for the pleasantly paranoid, perhaps? 8.5/10 (Rupert Bottenberg) at Jailhouse on Friday, July 25 with Broken Girl, Lonnie James and Peter Parker Roni Size/Reprazent New Forms (Talkin' Loud/Mercury) With all of the slobber and type the Bristol drum & bass sound has gotten since Size, Krust, DJ Die and Suv's first Reprazent effort, you'd think they would have changed something. But no--this Reprazent sounds like the last, which is great if a bit common at this point. Size is still at his best when working with rappers. His organic/cubist breaks (not too swooshy, not too sparse) and bits of live instruments is mental on jump-up jam "Railing," and Massive Attack-ish (sorry, Bristol connection) on the tippity-toe backroom creeper "New Forms." Nice weirdo syncopation all round. 8/10 (Mireille Silcott)
New Zealand may be this planet's most reliable source of solid, thoughtful guitar pop. The Mutton Birds offer the same warm, fuzzy comfort one associates with Americans such as Galaxie 500, but up the stakes by instilling in each song a unique and memorable personality. The bonus closing track: a quietly tripped-out cover of Blue Öyster Cult's "Don't Fear the Reaper," seals the deal. 8/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)
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This is a real piece of work. But don't worry much about the high-nostriled avant-garbage blowing in: these surround-sound songs are as much shagadelic Madchester as they are modernist-on-Mars (with a gospel choir). If a jazzer went to baggy-land with a timpano and some wood-paneled synths and snorted a freezer bag of PCP at the Imax, I suppose this is what it would sound like. Far out, but close to the pub. 9/10 (Mireille Silcott)
The Mutton Birds Envy of Angels (EMI)