Gonzales Gonzales Uber Alles (Kitty-Yo/Fusion III)
Revival The Longest Dream (independent)
Dirty Three Whatever You Love, You Are (Touch and Go) As with the impressionist cover-art paintings of violinist-nihilist-melancholist Warren Ellis, I feel compelled to retreat to impressionism myself when it comes to appraising the Dirty Three. Surely there is no better music to match and massage the mood of a come-down morning-after than the lulling, plaintive, violin vortices of this Australian rock trio. Just six (instrumental) pieces divide the 48 minutes of this sixth album, their titles as extended as their lengths, with "I Offered it up to the Stars & the Night Sky" winning both categories. Its intro makes like an atonal orch-pit and the last 11 minutes are spent slowly gearing up for the next crash. 7/10 (Chris Yurkiw) With Storm And Stress + Shannon Wright at Cabaret this Tues. April 4
The High Llamas Snowbug (V2/BMG)
New Bomb Turks Nightmare Scenario (Epitaph) New Bomb Turks have always had a hard time packing their high energy live show onto tape, but Nightmare is the closest they've come so far. From the lead-off track "Point to a Point Blank" it's rock 'n' roll fury played at a breakneck speed. Eric Davidson's Jello Biafra/Frankie Venom/David Johanson squealings even get downright catchy on "Automatic Teller" and "Your Beaten Heart," but when they get down and dirty on "Killer's Kiss," they hit paydirt. Imagine if the New York Dolls were hooked on Lucky Lager instead of smack and you get the picture. 8/10 (Johnson Cummins)
Mindless Self Indulgence Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy (Elektra/Warner)
Various On the Floor at the Boutique: Mixed by Fatboy Slim (Astralwerks/Virgin)
Les Jardiniers Cafeteria (Haute Couture)
Fatlip "What's Up Fatlip?"/ "Goldmine" 12" (Delicious Vinyl) I remember talking to Fatlip shortly after the breakup of the Pharcyde, only to find him tired, tragic and depressed. With the release of the first bit of material since he hopped the solo train, I'm sorry to say that not too much has changed. This is not the Fatlip that most of us long to hear, and he gets caught rhyming about his blackness, his manhood and his inability to bag a girl with a big butt. All worthwhile subjects, but backed with miserable production and equally miserable rhymes. I think people always liked the way Fatlip could put himself under a microscope in his verses but this is just pathetic. 5/10 (Scott C)
Looptroop "Ambush in the Night"/"Heed This Warning" 12" (Street Level/Landspeed) Mixing movie samples, some crazy ginsu production skills and the point of view of active graf writers, Looptroop is basically a backpacker's wet dream on a stick. "Ambush in the Night" is a joint for the writers that lyrically flips every aspect of the game, even taking time to wax poetic on some legal issues. "Heed This Warning" features Freestyle of the Arsonists getting open with the strangely similar-sounding members of the Troop. Nicest graf-related rhymes since "Wrong Side of the Tracks" and "End to End Burners." 7.5/10 (Scott C)
Delta 72 000 (Touch and Go)
Jacksoul Sleepless (BMG) Seal. He's the first thing that comes to mind when I listen to Canadian rhythm master Jacksoul. It's not like he's trying to sound like Seal, it's just that he's on the pop/soul/jazz tip that his British equivalent brings home (case in point: lead single "Can't Stop"). If you're into that kind of bent soul, you'll be happy with the healing "Somedays" or the folksy, Latin-tinged "Never Say Goodbye." The Hall & Oates remake "She's Gone" does the original proud. 7.5/10 (Gerard Dee)
Donald Byrd/Pepper Adams The Complete Blue Note Studio Sessions (Mosaic) These two were part of the influx from Detroit that enriched the NYC music scene in the mid-'50s. They worked as co-leaders and this four-disc box set contains all the studio sessions done for the esteemed Blue Note label between '58 and '67--37 choice items with spirited playing from the leaders and people like Sonny Red, Jackie McLean, Charlie Rouse, Wynton Kelly, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock, Doug Watkins, Billy Higgins and Philly Joe. A must for lovers of great combo playing! 10/10 (Len Dobbin)
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Ground zero for this hot Euro-indie album is Montreal. There once was a local guy named Jason Beck, who shuffled off to T.O. for two Warner albums, billing himself as Son and sounding like the progeny of Prince and Elvis (Costello). Now Beck's based in Berlin and playing a new character: a Fila-wearing, fledgling b-boy named Chilly Gonzales who's on a mission to attract as much attention to himself by talking as much shit (about being a "prankster" and "supervillain") as the British music press can eat up. Beck's also playing some new music, still popwise and funky but all hip-hopped up for the millennial chill-out room. Breakbeat ballads. Electro instrumentals. Jazzy Rhodes interludes. Wispy-chick vocals. Even some full-on, slammin' hip pop. You think this guy can come home again? 8.5/10 (Chris Yurkiw)
William Orbit Pieces in a Modern Style (Warner)
Here's a pair that ply synthesized classical music--the first being a rather arrogant go by Orbit, the producer behind the last ones from Madonna and Blur. Orbit's crammed-together compositions by Cage, Beethoven, Gorecki and others, and here and there pulls it off. The Satie and the Vivaldi numbers engage, but the rest collapses into so much homogenous synth-mush, reducing noble, timeless works of art to themes for a TV movie about cancer or something. Then there's Revival, or rather Quebecer Sorin Pavelesco. The Revival tag fits, given Pavelesco's affection for not only Chopin and such but also Vangelis, Jarre and Tan-Dream. While overly sentimental at times, Revival's well-thought melodies, mysterious minor keys and unusual tones make for a good listen. The scales tip to Pavalesco here, not only for originality but also for that elusive quality called "feeling"--noticeably absent from Orbit's disc. Orbit 5/10, Revival 7.5/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)
You know that thing where you don't know how much you value something 'til it's gone? Well, what's the opposite? I always loved the little random bits of analog cartoon noise that highest Llama Sean O'Hagan slathered into the empty spaces of his band's music--Brian Wilson-ized bubblebath architecture and fine-tuned, flavourful fluff--gelling the bond between them and cohorts Stereolab. But now that he's reeled back on that stuff, returning to the headspace of the first couple of albums, it's clear that all that excess trimming mostly just distracted and confused. Outcome: the most digestible Llamas disc to date. 8/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)
Hey, any CD with cover art from Tank Girl's Jamie Hewlett is good by me. M.S.I. do hyperkinetic techno-metal with influences going from James Brown to Charlie Chaplin, Chuck D to George Carlin. Vocalist and (sick-ass!) programmer Little Johnny Urine screams like Korn's Jonathan Davis (who, by the way, they're touring with), sings like Marilyn Manson, and raps like he's on speed. Try keeping up with psycho drum & bass beats and heaps o' samples, chained to raging guitar riffs, thumpin' bass and the odd live drum bits. Bang your head to the likes of "Cocaine and Toupees," "Masterbate" and "I Hate Jimmy Page." How they pull this stuff off live is a mystery. 8.5/10 (Lateef Martin)
By now we're all familiar with Fatboy Slim's good-for-whatever grabbag approach to the big beat sound, over which he reigns with iron fist and rubber wrist. Here's a patchwork breakdown of what Mr. Cook was cooking with behind the decks of the Big Beat Boutique, the Brighton club night whence cometh the term. Chaotic, even multilateral stylistic shifts scramble from hip hop to surf, from techno to disco to soul à go-go, the singular motivation being the reconciliation of the boom and the bap. At the wrong time/wrong volume this is just starchy migraine fuel, true 'nuff. Otherwise, though, it's an economy-sized serving of "git stupid," with all the empty calories you want. 8/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)
What ye sow, so shall ye reap, and local trio les Jardiniers have cultivated a dozen dope dance-traxx, a sassy sonic salad bar. Cafeteria opens on a pair of deliberately silly numbers, showcasing the kitsch vs. robotix thumb-wrestling prevalent throughout the disc. By track three, though, things level out into shiny house jams, wit intact, constantly off on some sly goof. Although never serious, the tunes (and tuneful they are) are smoother than the head of Love Boat's Gavin McLoed, and it all climaxes with the brilliant "Stereopole." Mm-hmm... oh, yeah. 8.5/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)
Beck's smash hit Midnight Vultures may find him rediscovering Prince records while strewing art rock bleeps and blips overtop, but the thing just reeks of a bit too much irony. On the other hand, Delta 72's OOO is a soul record made with all the love and respect these Phillies could muster for Booker T, JBs, Sly, Rare Earth and the prerequisite indie nod to Exile on Main Street. The production by Neil Haggerty and Jennifer Herema of Royal Trux seems like a marriage made in heaven; mini moogs battling it out with Hammond B3s and a very serious rhythm section. Beck should do himself a favour--stop mucking around with Purple Rain and give Delta 72 a spin instead. 8.5/10 (Johnson Cummins)