Tujiko Noriko has one of the most intriguingly inviting voices on the planet. Unintentionally adorable and profoundly sincere, Noriko‘s voice may be the answer to all known atrocities. From beginning to end, Blurred In My Mirror goes above and beyond the experimental pop accessibility often grouped with the likes of Björk, baring the soul of an artist coming into her own. With intimate lyrics in both Japanese and English, these songs are universally appealing, regardless of gender or creed. Between the weaving of choppy vocal patterns with sporadic fits of fuzz, this discordant masterpiece may, quite possibly, save our souls.
Songs Of Green Pheasant Songs Of Green Pheasant
If the Mamas and the Papas were collectively incinerated in a fire at their peak and came back to haunt the living, their incarnation would be Duncan Sumpner ‘s Songs Of Green Pheasant. Recorded entirely on a four-track in his lonesome kitchen, this blend of psychedelic folk and ambient pop truly stands outside of the new folk forefront treasured by everyone from hippies to hip-hop heads alike. Duncan‘s layered, dreary vocals resurrect feelings of aging and isolation without a trace of self-indulgence. Utilizing lo-fi drum machines, both electric and acoustic guitars and subtly driving basslines, modernity has never looked brighter.
Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom The Days of Mars
When I think DFA, I think disco balls, sweaty white kids smiling and dancing around and the adolescent heat of summer. Thankfully, The Days of Mars is the atmospheric gem this carefree world needs. These four spacious songs are layered with synth loops so hypnotic, you‘ll find yourself comatose eight minutes into the first track. In the world of Delia Gonzalez and Gavin Russom, every piano key struck over the plush wall of sound is like a precise needle to flesh. Imagine Brian Eno floating in space with some mescaline and a book of mantras. Nod out, space out and embrace the epic.
Various Artist Chloé:I Hate Dancing
Parisian producer/DJ Chloé‘s pedigree is near perfect: affiliations with labels Gomma and Bpitch and releases on Karat and Crack and Speed. Clearly a woman well versed in irony, I Hate Dancing is an orgy of 4/4s and drunken dubby druggy disco with all the usual suspects: Kiki, Tiga, Munk, Superpitcher, DJ T. All quite safe and sound and trés lo-fi, the mix is given a distinctive edge over the competitors with the constant inclusion of each record‘s cracks, pops and hisses. Chloé: I Hate Cleaning My Records.
Jackson and his Computer Band Smash
Existentialist electronic Frenchman Jackson simultaneously does Camus and Rimbaud proud, wasting not one fantastical yoctosecond of precious album space. Crammed with synapse-shattering digitalia like a towering Atkins-unaware cannoli of death-Smash features layer upon impossibly imploding layer of visionary sound-its brilliance physically hurts. Jackson manages the near impossible feat of boasting guest vocalists, yet assimilates their contributions into an bricolaged treatise. Even Mike Ladd‘s not annoying in this context-his pouty, prep-school rap is treated as aural ammunition. Smash introduces Jackson as a formidable talent.
The Drift Noumena
Sporting slow motion, incandescent incantations and miles of majestic instrumental magick, San Francisco‘s The Drift post-rock so hard they think nothing of teasing four minutes of hazy gaze three times over until it becomes a 12-minute epic. Herein lies their triumphant strength: they allow each instrument the space and context to develop and abstract-the longer the songs, the better they are. Battling for conceptual cornerstone are the glimmering guitar of Tarentel‘s Danny Grody and Jeff Jacobs‘ bastard Bitches Brew fusion trumpets and flugelhorns-every other instrumental band should be terrified about now.
One Self Children of Possibility
They might look like diversity poster kids-Russian-born/British-raised DJ Vadim, Brazilian/Chilean (but Swedish-raised) vocalist Yarah Bravo and American rapper Blu Rum 13-but One Self delivers. Vadim brings his considerable skill, as on the solid instrumental “SD2,” which feels an atlas in a musical blender. Blu‘s growled raps over the nervous strings of “Paranoid” convey the mood almost too well. But the standout is Yarah on “Over Expose,” a song about music-world hoochies-the sweetness of her voice contrasts beautifully with lyrics like “tits, ass, all over the TV screen.”Children of Possibility contains a subtle balance of thoughtfulness and playfulness.
The Rebirth This Journey In
From the first mellow tones and luscious vocals, it‘s obvious this album is good shit-even if its range isn‘t the broadest. A combination of funk, soul and jazz, the LA-based septet recalls predecessors like Soul II Soul, Brand New Heavies and Earth Wind & Fire, but avoids slavish imitation. Standouts include “Every Body Say Yeah,” in which Noelle Scaggs‘ warm vocals (urging you to “celebrate if you feel it”) are joined in lush harmony with vocals from other band members, and the danceable, gently Brazilian-inflected “Talking Me Down.” “Stay Away” is a laid-back gem, and the title track is simply addictive. The band members have ridiculously polished resumes, and have worked with names like DJ Babu, Ozomatli and Breakestra-their musicianship is manifest. The layers of groove-smooth bass, deeply warm vocals and blues-laden keyboards- make this an easy journey to join in on.
Ladytron Witching Hour
Ladytron keeps the effects-laden vocals they‘re known for, but their blankly cool sound takes on a (slightly) greater range. Opener “High Rise,” for instance, grinds with reverb-filled rock. “Destroy Everything You Touch,” with the synthetic catchiness that made “Seventeen” such a hit, drives even harder. Not everything works: breakup track “International Dateline” should be far more brutal, but instead feels, well, a lot like everything else. “Amtv” tries to be Devo, but there‘s only room for one Devo. Even with its industrial tilt, this album has plenty of ear candy-it‘s pleasant, if not quite tasty.
Richard Davis Details
It‘s all in the details, they say, and with Richard Davis‘ third full-length, they couldn‘t be more right. At once an intimate and a social affair, from studio to the salon to the dancefloor, this album plays out as both as both the perfect blend of minimal house and a real deal artist album. Deep grooves, yes, but there are lyrics too; and they don‘t suck! The disc goes somewhere between Deep Dish and Swayzak, and even subtly nods to Brian Eno/Bowie‘s “Berlin Trilogy”-how appropriate for an Englishman who has also made Berlin his base of operations.
