BA rolls his lucky hip-hop dice and scores a “Hard Twelve,” flowing with a smooth Harlem lyricism like Case or Cam’ron. Tash from Tha Liks drops a verse on “Chronic Break”- a track drenched in symphonic jazz (think Les McCann). Beat Assailant is winning without even trying hard.
Rhythm King And Her Friends I Am Disco
The first time I heard this feminist trio they were singing about the “boyish closet” dilemma of getting dressed when “everything looks queer today.” Their song “Pants”-a funky curiosity full of breakbeats, samples and wobbly guitar-appeared on the Tsunami-Addiction comp Toxic Girls, and I had been wanting to hear more ever since. More catchy, nervy, eclectic electro is what appears on their full-length debut I Am Disco, which is sung in English, French and Bulgarian. Grappling with queer issues, work issues, body issues and political issues, their content fits the attitude of this dissident disco party.
Ulrich Schnauss A Strangely Isolated Place
Some entries in the ambient genre have wandered close to that dreaded “new age” precipice where one false move lulls the listener to sleep whilst visions of pony-tailed pianists occupy the alpha waves. On his sophomore album, Berlin’s Ulrich Schnauss does tempt meditation with his blissed-out slow builds. But he avoids the plunge by combining iridescent atmospherics with lively beats and the dithering wall of sound first fashioned by My Bloody Valentine; this is actually more reminiscent of peers Slowdive, but with less ache. Schnauss may be isolated, but he’s not asleep-he keeps the ambient landscape fresh by balancing it with uplifting reveries and a rhythmic grip on the senses.
Various Artists Fabricate: Remixes of the Album Worsted Weight
Like the English countryside, bravely persisting year-round through rough winters and cruel summers, bedrooms worldwide continue to mulch out an arsenal of homespun 7″ labels, whose releases are potent morsels of electronified genius on vinyl. Rather than creating yourself a full-time job tracking these stellar releases down, just acquire this phenomenal remix CD, where Charles Atlas’ already inventive post-rock album Worsted Weight is hot-rodded by Magnetophone, Isan, Sybarite, Pram, Tele:Funken, Casino Vs. Japan and more to repeated mind-expanding success.
Mantler Landau
Tomlab has aligned themselves mainly with idiosyncratic sensitive singer/songwriter types in the past. And Casiotone for the Painfully Alone and Patrick Wolf’s obscuring of their voices via distorted synth torrents and electro theatricality, respectively, has only served to plaintive, oozing humanism. On Landaun, Mantler bears his Elton John-loving, A.M. radio-listening, lounge-crooning soul in a comparatively very naked way. He uses just his voice to belt out sing-along choruses that would make Tom Jones blush, while the production suggests a Miami-bass and slow jam-obsessed Drag City Records engineer jumped ship. An acquired taste, certainly.
Gringo Grinder Breakfast Included
Furthering Onitor’s talent for seeking out quality innovators to complicate Kompakt’s clean precision, Gringo Grinder’s debut is a sprawling collection of sexually-charged, electro-tinged techno shuffle. The majority of Breakfast Included consists of bass-belting analog floor-fillers, but the real revelation is the three phenomenal vocal tracks, which make mere masticated mush out of all the bandwagon-jumping synth silliness out there. Yummy, yummy Breakfast.
The Remote Viewer You’re Going to Love Our Defeatist Attitude
This mini-album intends to bowl you over with The Remote Viewer’s new, more mature sound-including the addition of rambling cello cutting through the static-charged hiss of “Listening to Ballad of the Band” or the secretive sounds of Nicola Hodgkinson’s singing on a few tracks. Despite striving more towards seriousness, The Remote Viewer still displays personality, which shines through every little effect they put on each sound. As amplified hums, hisses and clicks meld magically with delicately plucked guitars, rolling basslines and scattershot percussion, their premonition of a title becomes quite true.
Jimi Tenor Beyond the Stars
Jimi Tenor renamed himself after his favorite instrument-the tenor sax-and his love of woodwinds and brass remains after a 10-year career. Just listen. A Finnish native, Tenor toes the line between the sincerity of homage and hipster irony, melding jazz, lounge and some strains of rock and funk. Opener “Barcelona Sunrise” oozes like candy syrup, while “Moon Goddess” brings in strong horns. Sometimes he falters, as with “Sirens of Salo,” whose tweeting birds don’t help the choir vocals much. But then Tenor comes back with the subtly epic, subdued “Gamelavad,” and all is forgiven.
Gregory Isaacs Open the Door
Isaacs helped pioneer the lover’s rock genre, and it’s no surprise that this album-his latest in a discography that’s much longer than this review–has him crooning in more of the R&B-inflected reggae style that was popular in the ’70s and ’80s. Isaacs, whose been performing since his teens in late 1960s Jamaica, gives songs like “She’s Gone,” with its great horns, and “Never Knew Love” the kind of sadness that doesn’t stop you nodding along. Though this isn’t the most innovative reggae album out these days, Isaacs still has a voice that can walk between love and lovelessness with heartbreaking ease.
Mash Out Posse Mash Out Posse
M.O.P. loses none of their aggressiveness here, even though this album steps outside their usual range for a style they’re branding “hood rock.” A hard-edged mix of guitar and rap, it’s the hybrid album Limp Bizkit would never have the balls to make. But it’s a risk for M.O.P., who came together with NYC band Shiner Massive to lay down these remakes of their previous work. Overall this album works, as on “Hilltop Flava,” their muthafucka-laced version of the Beasties’ “No Sleep Til Brooklyn.” But some tracks lose in translation, like “Robbin’ Hoodz,” their new version of “Ante Up.”
