Rip $20 in half and as long as you piece the bill back together with tape it‘s still legal tender. You could even rip two $20 bills and mix and match the ends without losing the value. 13+God is like those $20s. Featuring the Bay Area‘s sing-song cerebralists themselves and Munich‘s hushed, bubbling Notwist-both valued producers in their own right-13+God is a half-dozen musicians that, when combined, mix and match into something equally valuable in sum to either set‘s parts. Bandying vocal duties between tracks, Anticon MCs themselves and the Notwist place nasal neurosis over tracks that breathe with plaintive pulse drifts and list with chunky beats. 13+God is money in the bank.
Marsen Jules Herbstlaub
It seems all too simple. Everybody loves a fucking orchestra. So throw one together with some samples and even the electro kids go home happy. But upon each revealing layer of soaring emotion, each successive second of sound, the depth of compositional brilliance possessed by Marsen Jules complicates this simpleminded foolishness. An ambient album that mixes samples of a symphony rehearsal in with his own instruments, Herbstlaub (“Autumn Leaves”), evolves as an homage to the radical redefining of sound, how we hear it, and who in fact is responsible for its origin.
Silicone Scally Dark Matters
Universally regarded as a trailblazing master practitioner of all things electro, Silicone Scally‘s Dark Matters starts off in routinely familiar territory for Mr. Carl Finlow, featuring taut percussion and swirling synths troweled atop cyclically evolving percussion. As the false sense of security sets in, side B of this two-platter LP harbors an intense realization: these are dark matters indeed. With an increased utilization of growling nu-skool bass, albeit in a distinctly Finlow-ian way, sides C and D of this double-vinyl soundtrack a sensual world of dystopian electro-soul, the stunning center point of this being “Clone Alone.” Through eight tracks of stealth dancefloor destroyers, Finlow again brandishes his mastery.
F.S. Blumm Zweite Meer
Oh, musical gods, how we thank you for your wise divine intervention in ceasing the unending flow of AM rock/smooth operator/low stake releases from Berlin kingpins Morr Music and instead bringing back a return engagement from Mr. Blumm. Refreshingly home-spun, his ragtag bricolage of blown and bowed sounds played by friends, including a inspired vocal turn from David Grubbs, displays a wholly winning dedication to a simplicity of sound and musical magic. More please.
Various Artists Kitsuné X
Cluttered with Darwinian references, Galapagos Islands hidden down the inside CD spine, and a finch on the cover, are we meant to read this as the natural selection of electroclash, now safely commodified into the mainstream as “electropop”? Perhaps, as many of the artists represented here owe much to the short-lived fashion-music movement of yore. Joakim, Volga Select, Simian Mobile Disco, Hot Chip, and Dieter Schmidt transcend historical moments with slickly produced ingenuity, but others belong in the time capsule fluorescently labeled 2000.
Various Artists Klubb Jazz 6
These jazz-soaked house tracks are insistent without being frenetic, music you can pace yourself to all night. Belezamusica‘s cover of the Ron Ayers classic “Running Away” does justice to the original, while the bassline on “Everywhere” from Fat Jon the Ample Soul Physician is thick and tasty. But it‘s “In the Morning” from Jafrosax, featuring Philly vocalist Vikter Duplaix, which shines brightest. Against guitar, horn, and pianos, Duplaix‘s intense voice convinces you that it‘s not only good for him to be alive, but for you as well.
Various Artists Son Cubano NYC: Cuban Roots New York Spices 1972-82
The 12 tracks here were recorded when New York salsa was at a creative high point, from 1972-82. The result is an album full of strong horns and emotional Spanish vocals sure to draw comparison to the Buena Vista Social Club. But despite the horn players‘ chops (like trumpeter Chocolate‘s turn on “Chocolate En C7” and “Trumpet et Montuno”) and the consistently excellent vocals, the album‘s real star is the percussion-these Afro-Latin rhythms are so insistent that even when Lita Branda sings about losing her love, you still want to dance to her heartbreak.
Charanga Cakewalk Loteria De La Cumbia Lounge
Michael Ramos has played with his share of pop-friendly musicians (including Paul Simon and John Mellencamp), so it‘s unsurprising that his debut solo album, though an original mix of traditional and modern, Mexican and urban, playful and sincere, at least leans toward pop. Based on cumbia-a Colombian folk-music style-Ramos‘ results are new nonetheless, as on the kitschy “Carmela” and standout “Charanga Cakewalk,” which excellently blends Spanish guitar, accordion, and piano with synths. Less desperately passionate than the tango, heavier than the airy joy of bossa, the album still brings the substance to satisfy.
Nostalgia 77 The Garden
It may be redundant to say that Nostalgia 77 (Ben Lamdin) offers up Afrocentric jazz, but listen to the crying reed spurts and the tribal percussion of The Garden and you‘ll be reminded of Pharoah Sanders‘ “Nubian space jazz.” And even though this stuff is edited on a desktop, the musicians assembled for this release (an impressive crew who double as the Quantic Soul Orchestra) could fill up a chess meet. With spiritual confidence, horns stretch out through the constrictions of beats and measures on this Garden. Nostalgia 77 longs for ‘67, the height of free jazz.
Various Artists Disco Dimensions
With a backbeat that can shatter the glass of any steamy DJ booth, and Latin percussion action that will wanna make you push push in the bush like it‘s 1979, Disco Dimensions is a sex hungry slut of a disc that‘s as suitable for Al Pacino‘s undercover homo in Cruising as it is for fans of LCD Soundsystem in Brooklyn. Drawing from different eras of punk-funk, punk-disco, disco-funk, and no wave it‘s as if the Bronx, Spanish Harlem, and Munich all came down to the Mudd Club and Danceteria. Chicken Lips starts if off with some hot synth bass, Ray Mang‘s vocoder has that Troutman zing (I mean zap), and Greenskeepers tease you with naughty house-funk, but it‘s Putsch‘s yellow fever (“Asian Girls”) that provides the real electro-sleaze.
