Ten Most Anticipated Albums Of ‘10

While I’m busy preparing a careful summation of 2009’s musical landscape, I thought I’d offer up one more list for you guys. Rather than looking to the past this time, here’s 10 highly anticipated albums slated for release in 2010:

10. Massive Attack- Heliogoland (02.08.10): It’s been nearly 7 years since Massive Attack’s 100th Window and what a long wait it’s been for Heliogoland. While the trip-hop innovators have quietly worked on soundtracks and even dropped a teaser E.P. (2009’s Splitting The Atom E.P.), anticipation for a new LP is at an all time high. Yet rather than retreat into the glitchy keyboards that slowed down 100th Window, the almost tribal “Prayer For Rain” and string laced “Splitting The Atom” hint at a darker sound this time around. Guest vocals from TV On The Radio’s Tunde Adebimpe and Blur’s Damon Albarn add another level of interest beyond the band’s mysterious appeal.

9. Alkaline Trio- This Addiction (02.23.10): After 2008’s overly slick Agony & Irony, Alkaline Trio are reportedly going back to their old punk roots with This Addiction. Signing to Epitaph, recording with Goddamnit! producer Matt Allison, and making Social Distortion comparisons are all great signs, but big-talk is cheap. Still, road-testing cuts like “Dine, Dine My Darling” and “This Addiction” on their most recent tour has excited fans and interested skeptics. The Trio sound lean, caustic, and morose, all the ingredients that made us fall in love with them in the first place.

8. Tally Hall- TBA (Second Quarter 2010): Not much is known about the Tally Hall’s follow up to 2005’s incredible indie debut Marvin's Marvelous Mechanical Museum, but fans of the band are glued to YouTube while they wait. The Michigan 5 piece played a hand full of new songs on their last tour such as The Beatles tinged “Misery Fell” and the folk flavored “Sacred Beast,” before entering the studio this past October. As they work with producer Tony Hoffer (Beck, The Fratellis, The Kooks), it’s safe to expect more whimsical weirdness and genre bending from these color tie clad minstrels.

7. Vampire Weekend- Contra (01.11.10): How does a band follow up a debut album that critics adored and pop culture went nuts over? If you’re Vampire Weekend you write new songs as if the first record never happened. Due out in January, Contra finds the indier-than-thou 4 piece creating some of the most exciting material of their short career. “Cousins” zooms by with a flurry of notes and spastic drumming while “Horchata” is a sweet love song underneath a veneer of thick beats and playful xylophone. Be sure to check out Contra before it becomes “uncool” to like Vampire Weekend.

6. Jack’s Mannequin- TBA (Third Quarter 2010): It’s been a busy few years for Jack’s Mannequin’s front man, Andrew McMahon. Since The Glass Passenger dropped in 2008, McMahons’s been on the road touring as well as promoting his DVD/EP combo, Dear Jack, a gripping documentary about his fight with leukemia. Now that the tours and the recovery are behind him, McMahon has his sights set firmly on the future of piano led tunes. He’s reconvened in Southern California to write his follow-up to The Glass Passenger, hinting that the local has hit him with a strong sense of Something Corporate nostalgia. Be it SoCo memories or Jack’s dreams, you can bet his heart will be on his sleeve in these new musical explorations.

5. Bad Religion- TBA (Fourth Quarter 2010): Bassist Jay Bentley was the one to initially spill the beans, sharing with fans that Bad Religion would be entering the studio this coming April. To take it one step further, guitarist Brett Gurewitz tweeted that fans could expect a new Bad Religion album next fall. However, barring those small snippets, there has been no word as to what the material will sound like. Taking into consideration how tight and well-composed 2007’s New Maps Of Hell was, these 40-year-old punks will have a tall order to fill.

4. The Black Keys- TBA (April 2010): Singer/guitarist Dan Auerbach got his solo record out. Along those same lines, drummer Patrick Carney contributed his talents to his side project The Drummer. Then, both members of The Black Keys invited a host of MCs like Mos Def and Pharaoe Monch to spit rhymes over their thick garage rock on Blackroc. As if that wasn’t enough, both Aurebach and Carney are promising fans a new Black Keys album in April. With their signature grit and frantic work ethic, it’d be surprising to see anything less than spectacular from this duo.

3. My Chemical Romance- TBA (Second Quarter 2010): After the Queen level theatricality of 2006’s The Black Parade, My Chemical Romance have promised a stripped down and gritty rock record this time around. Tapping Brendan O’Brien for the production duties, MCR showcased three new songs at a series of secret shows at the Roxy in Los Angeles, songs that sound about as far removed from the bombastic material on Parade. Instead, the choppy punk swagger of “Hail To The King” and the bluesy punch of “The Drugs” finds My Chemical Romance flirting with 70s bravado and attitude instead of make up and uniforms.

2. The Beastie Boys- The Hot Sauce Committee Pt. 1 (First Quarter 2010): First off, the decision to push back the release of The Hot Sauce Committee Pt. 1 due to MCA’s battle with cancer was a tough decision to make. However, the fact that MCA beat the disease, that the album is finished, and that a Part 2 is on the way, are more than enough reasons to get excited. And if the leaked tracks are any indication of what’s in store for fans, than Hot Sauce is going to blow some serious gaskets. “Lee Majors Come Again” is a fuzzy punk number with aggressive turntables and MCA and Mike D’s signature whine. Elsewhere, “Pop Your Balloon” features big beats and exotic strings as these 40-year-old MCs show the iGeneration what old school hip-hop is all about. Hopefully, Mike D will shower us not only in mp3s, but some ill rhymes.

1. Radiohead- TBA (Rumored 2010): Other than guitarist Ed O’Brien letting it slip that Radiohead were indeed working on music in the studio, nobody knows anything about the group’s eighth LP. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Still, doesn’t it feel better to know that the most innovative and focused band in the digital age is working on SOMETHING?

25 Most Important Albums Of The 00s

With the end of 2009 in firm sight, everyone who’s anyone is coming out with a list of albums that’s supposed to mean something to everyone. As such, here’s my first list for you guys, a list that culls together the most important albums of this decade. While many of my favorites are on here, many are not. I looked for albums that left big marks on the musical and pop culture landscapes, not just solid releases or ones I took to heart. In the end, I settled on 25 albums that I believe people will look back on as defining for the 00’s.

So without further adieu…

25. Thursday- War All The Time (2003)
24. Fall Out Boy- From Under The Cork Tree (2005)
23. TV On The Radio- Dear Science, (2008)
22. A.F.I.- Sing The Sorrow (2003)
21. Beck- Sea Change (2002)
20. Bloc Party -Silent Alarm (2005)
19. Animal Collective- Strawberry Jam (2007)
18. Coldplay- A Rush Of Blood To The Head (2002)
17. Interpol- Turn On The Bright Lights (2002)
16. Nine Inch Nails- Year Zero (2007)
15. Norah Jones- Come Away With Me (2002)
14. Kanye West- The College Dropout (2004)
13. Taking Back Sunday- Tell All Your Friends (2002)
12. Modest Mouse- The Moon & Antarctica (2000)
11. M.I.A.- Kala (2007)

10. Radiohead- In Rainbows (2007): No one will forget how the “pay-what-you-want” mechanism was for Radiohead’s seventh album. The bigger surprise, however, was that the band crafted an album so tight and focused, that the warm and lush songs never got lost in the media hullabaloo. Moreover, In Rainbows showed that high art could go hand-in-hand with innovative e-commerce.

9. Brand New- Deja Entendu (2003): While the Long Island sound had been perfected by other bands, Deja Entendu was held up as a gold standard for the melodic hardcore scene. Yet what made Brand New standout was the effortlessness of their witty song craft, and the sonic sophistication they held when compared to their contemporaries. While other bands mined Lifetime or The Promise Ring, Brand New mined The Smiths, Radiohead, and U2 to create a haunting dreamscape and a watershed album.

8. Sigur Ros- ( ) (2002): While Sigur Ros crept into mainstream consciousness with their previous album, ( ) was the album that made them a household name. Additionally, ( )’s cold and slow moving textures exposed the world to post-rock music in a way that no other artist has been able to do since. It’s safe to say that without ( ), the world would have to look for huge hazy movements and twinkling melodies in a much more structured form.

7. The White Stripes- Elephant (2003): If the public wasn’t sold on the garage rock revival when The White Stripes, The Strokes, The Hives, and The Vines all came on the scene, they were after Elephant. Jack White became a serious artist after Elephant, the world taken with his abusive blues guitar and his penchant for hooks. Continuing the band’s modest trend of reinvigorating American blues and folk, The White Stripes reminded the world that rock music could have unbridled passion after an era of boy band pop. That’s exactly what they did with Elephant.

6. Eminem- The Marshall Mathers LP (2000): At the turn of the century, there was no other rapper more controversial or as angry as Eminem. While the Slim Shady LP showed how American society had created monsters, The Marshall Mathers LP displayed Eminem as a satirical Exhibit A. Over gritty beats and dark themes, The Marshall Mathers LP exposed everything ugly about Middle America as Eminem turned the conservative right’s hatred inwards. While he’s long past the point of relevancy, every rap album afterwards that has maintained an image of street credibility takes its cues from this record.

5. Yeah Yeah Yeahs- Fever To Tell (2003): Before Karen O was joyfully contemplating where the wild things were; she was busy screaming on this jagged art-punk masterpiece. While Fever To Tell will forever be remembered for the gentle atmospheres of “Maps” the majority of the disc revels in crashing riffs, stutter-stop drums, and O’s signature wail. Her feminist howl reminds listeners that in an age of pre-packaged beauty queens, one could still be empowered with just the right amount of hipster-laden moxie.

4. Death Cab For Cutie- Transatlanticism (2003): While indie pop was breaking through to the mainstream in the early 2000s, Transatlanticism became its flagship record upon release and the album to measure to there on after. It’s easily to see why; Ben Gibbard’s bittersweet poetry and Chris Walla’s clean but immersive guitar work drew listeners in by the thousands. While the group would go on to release bigger albums, Transatlanticism remains the rock that the church of indie pop was built on, paving the way for broken hearted lovers and anyone willing to tune into The OC.

3. Jay-Z- The Blueprint (2001): The Jigga Man might have been hip-hop’s Nostradamus, showing the future of the genre with his aptly titled opus, The Blueprint. The record’s old jazz/soul feel showcased the production talents of Kanye West, a man who single handedly slanted hip-hop’s production style for the decade, and featured Jay-Z’s ruthless rhymes as hip-hop’s top MC. From start to finish, The Blueprint’s back-to-basics approach and modern execution has, pun intended, served as the blueprint for every successful hip-hop record that preceded it in the 00s.

2. Green Day- American Idiot (2004): At a time where the nation’s social climate couldn’t be any more demoralized, Green Day released a punk-rock opera that kicked ass and took names. Critical and radio recognition was overwhelming, and the Bay Area trio had struck a chord in the American psyche, revitalized their career, and expanded their sound with one colossal release. While detractors and naysayers will moan about the eyeliner and merchandising, the songs do the talking, showing the importance of rebelling against the alienation and complacency of the digital age.

1. Radiohead- Kid A (2000): In many ways, Radiohead’s grand electronic experiment is the perfect summation of the 00s, and therefore, the most important record of the decade. It was the first record to truly leak onto the Internet (via Napster), the first record to really expose the mainstream public to dense electronic soundscapes, and the first record to be meticulously crafted with computers. Simply put, Kid A reflected the iGeneration’s zeitgeist in sonic form. Before Kid A rock albums were firmly rock albums with little room experimentation, no leniency granted for evolution or artistic exploration. After Kid A, however, artists could indulge any studio impulse they desired, creating synthesized arrangements to feel as intricate or haphazard as they wished. It’s the epitome of the 00s: The idea of human potential no longer inhibited by technology, but by one’s own ingenuity. All in all, Radiohead’s Kid A is the perfect album to represent the 00s.

Norah Jones- The Fall (****)

It’s always been kind of easy to knock Norah Jones.

While 36 million records worldwide would seem to contradict that, Jones has always seemed to inspire hatred among music purists in spite of her populist appeal. She’s too young. She has many songs written for her. She’s not a true “jazz artist.” The list goes on and on for her detractors, but on her new record The Fall, don’t be surprised if certain purist start bagging on Norah because there’s “not enough Norah Jones sounding piano” on it.

Instead, The Fall finds Jones asserting more control over her songwriting (Writing or co-writing each track here), while gently shifting her pop jazz influences closer to American roots music. While Jones is no stranger to experimentation (The folk influences on Feels Like Home, and the southern jazz touches of Not Too Late come to mind), this is the first time since her debut that Jones seems comfortable with the direction. As a result, The Fall showcases Jones in a variety of moods and emotions, while coming across as a rich and lush dream.

The first single “Chasing Pirates” is a great indication of Jones’ newfound autonomy. Held together with ebbing Wurlitzer, snappy drumming, and Jones’ molasses thick voice, the track balances hooks with a bubbling effervescence. The overall affect is as buoyant as Jones is coy, but provides a certain amount of depth that’s mostly lost in pop music.

However, if there’s one thing The Fall excels in, it’s in drifting atmospheres that envelop the listener. On The Fall, guitars chime, fading in an out with rich reverb and soft distortion. Bass lines like the slinky crawl found on “I Wouldn’t Need You” pull listeners in as Jones weaves tales about love lost. Elsewhere, the smoky barroom stomp of “It’s Gonna Be” is peppered with rough blues guitar and pulsing drums, conjuring images of Bourbon Street dives and long nights.

While Jones surrounds herself with some fine musicians, her choice to hire producer Jacquire King was a gamble that paid off in spades. Known for his work with Tom Waits and Modest Mouse, King’s knob twisting makes The Fall dense without feeling cluttered. His soft, but never murky production suits Jones’ rich voice as she balances her frailty with longing, creating sounds as surreal as her prose.

The Fall might come across as sonically smooth, but it’s Jones’ stories that bear her sharp teeth. More so than ever before, Jones wears her heart on her sleeve in singing about her flaws, her insecurities, and her struggle with relationships. On “Light As A Feather,” Jones croons “While the seasons will undo your soul/Time forgives us and takes control/We separate our things to put us back together…” This sense of decay runs rampant throughout The Fall, and rather than simplifying heartache into an “Us vs Them” war of words, Jones is careful to grant weight to shared intimacy.

Ultimately, Jones’ more mature look on loss keeps her stories fresh without being preachy. The climbing blues of “Stuck” creates an awkward late night rendezvous between two people don't know how to really co-exist with each other. Lines like “I’m sitting here stuck/Plastered to me seat/I think up a reason to leave/When you finally stop speaking…” show Jones is interesting in exploring human frailties as opposed to surface level bursts of frustration. The result makes her storytelling on The Fall as captivating as the music it accompanies, perhaps the rarest feat of all in pop music.

While it’s a bit unusual to have a Norah Jones album that is so light in ivory, it’s refreshing to find Jones daring to experiment with a myriad of sounds as well as her lyrics. Yet what makes The Fall truly shine, seems to be the balance with which Jones pulls these parts together. There is not one thing, one musical slant, one lyrical idea, that overpowers the rest. Instead, The Fall comes across as a fully realized work, one where modest means and honest parables come together seamlessly, and without pretension.

On the jumpy piano of “Man Of The Hour,” Jones softly whispers about the only kind of man that could truly capture her heart: Her dog. She confesses, “You never lie/And you don’t cheat/And you don’t have any baggage/Tied to your four feet...” showing that it’s not perfection or the ideal that she’s searching for, but authenticity. Through her charming honesty, Jones hits on what we’re all searching for: The chance to live with who we truly are, without the push to be labeled as something we’re not.

But don’t worry; plenty of people will hate her for singing honestly as well.

Key Cuts: Chasing Pirates, Light As A Feather, I Wouldn't Need You

Sounds Like: Field Manuel (Chris Walla), The Remainder (Feist), Girls & Boys (Ingrid Michaelson)

Click on the artwork to sample The Fall for yourself!

John Mayer- Battle Studies (**)

Pay close attention to the cover art on John Mayer’s latest album, Battle Studies.

Notice his gray-scaled physique, his purposefully tussled hair, and his wistful stare, the target of which is decidedly out of frame. Soak it in, let John Mayer’s singer-songwriter plight consume you through the sheer force of his gaze.

Perfectly constructed sadness never looked so real.

The problem is that Battle Studies is all style, with only flashes of substance, from a musician that really started to get serious with his last album. 2006’s Continuum was a breath of fresh air for Mayer, who’d been making good but not great music for a few years prior, and put him in the realm of serious music makers. His decision to focus on his arrangements and stretch his sonic palate made for an engaging listen, and won him heaps of praise for people that thought he was just a pop dandy.

Yet instead of continuing that trend, Mayer seems more concerned with appearing sophisticated rather than actually engaging his listeners. On Battle Studies, Mayer takes his jazz/blues soft rock to Prozac-laden proportions, focusing on half-baked atmosphere and ambience rather than storytelling and song craft.

Things get off to a rocky start, the Edge inspired guitar and lush backdrop of “Heartbreak Warfare” offering listeners a massive sonic experience, but a fairly shallow song. Mayer caps it off with a strained solo, one that’s as frustrated as we’re lead to believe he is, but his lyrics that feel painfully trite. Against a symphony of anguish, Mayer amateurishly tackles the universal with no brainer hooks such as, “Once you want it to begin/No one really ever wins/In heartbreak warfare…”

And it’s only track one.

Make no mistake, Battle Studies is an immaculate sounding record. It's bass is warm and thick, it's drums are deep. The rich syrupy solo on “All We Ever Do Is Say Goodbye” and the delicate acoustic melodies on “Do You Know Me” prove that Mayer enlisted some studio muscle, but there’s a tradeoff. There aren’t very many moments where the music feels organic. The digital funk of “Crossroads” flirts with a decent groove, Mayer’s southern rock delivery holding it all together, but it all feels calculated, pieced together to sell John Mayer rather than music John Mayer made.

What the record lacks, and what ultimately made Continuum so captivating, was Mayer’s ability to create intimate portraits while keeping his arrangements lively and evolving. On Battle Studies, Mayer opts to phone in his melodies, allowing songs to meander while their crispness carries them. Considering what an accomplished guitarist he is, it’s a real shame to see that potential go to waste, especially when his solos remind you that you’re on a different song.

Predictably enough, Battle Studies is best when Mayer forgets about how glossy he can make his music. The simple acoustic pluck of “Who Says” is a standout gem, a song that feels more inline with his feelings than the grandiose balladeering he’s become fixated with. Against softly brushed percussion, Mayer’s nimble melodies give way to lines like “It's been a long night in New York City/It's been a long time since 22 /I don't remember you looking any better/But then again I don't remember you…” It’s not that Mayer sounds more convincing, it’s that the words have more weight in subject matter, tackling the ambiguity that comes from fractured relationships rather than the heartbroken absolutism that peppers the rest of the album.

Battle Studies finds Mayer preoccupied with either showing how macho he is, or how torn up the ladies have made him. “Assassins” is a heavy-handed parable about encountering his heartbreaking female alter ego, while “Half Of My Heart” would make even Charlie Brown wince awkwardly. In short, John Mayer lashes out because he has a persona he wants to maintain, and it’s this persona that gets him in trouble.

Still, the record has its bright spots. “Crossroads” proves that the ghost of Al Green looms behind Mayer’s fretting fingers while the spinning melodies of “Edge Of Desire” help listeners drift into a delicate dream world. It’s clear that Mayer can write a melody, and write them well, but on Battle Studies he seems to have forgotten how to make them consistently memorable.

But fear not, because John Mayer has provided listeners with something that he feels trumps a solid record any day, his sensitive side. Battle Studies won’t change any notions or leave a lasting impact, but listeners are left with a sad breathy croon and purposefully constructed hair. Ultimately, it's the sound of plastic emotion, and of a gifted player putting his potential on the shelf.

Key Cuts: Who Says, Crossroads, Edge Of Desire

Sounds Like: The worst parts of KOIT radio.

Click on the artwork to sample Battle Studies for yourself!

Say Anything- Say Anything (****)

By a band’s fourth record, certain things are more or less figured out.

The sound has been solidified, eventually earmarking what future listeners will remember them for, and the line-up is usually cemented as the "classic" line-up if it hasn't been already. Think about this: The Beastie Boys released Ill Communication, Korn released Issues, and blink 182 broke into the mainstream with Enema Of The State. Clearly, fourth records are standard bearers and legacy makers, making them extremely important to musical artists.

By the fourth record, fans have an understanding of what a particular band is about, so it’s important for that band to put forth a tremendous effort, or risk fading into obscurity.

Whether or not Max Bemis of Say Anything was conscious of this trend is anyone’s guess. What is clear is that he set out to make a defining record for himself this time around. On Say Anything, Bemis leads his band like a pop-punk general, burning social inequities and salting the Earth with big hooks and big rhythms. Fragile neurosis in step, Bemis and his crew march through 13 larger than life tracks that focus on everything from relationships, to society, to the great big afterlife.

Fans turned off by the shear breadth of the band’s 2006 double album In Defense Of The Genre will find that Bemis has narrowed down his sights this time around. The hooks grab more immediately, and his mixing of sounds continues to uniquely color Say Anything’s music within a stale genre.

The record hits its stride early with the playfully nihilistic “Hate Everyone,” featuring snappy acoustic melodies, chunky guitar lines, and cartoony keyboards. Elsewhere, “Crush’d” flips the Say Anything sound to it’s electronic indulgences, featuring fluttering beats and crisp synthesizers while “She Won’t Follow You” sinks its teeth into melodic walls of distortion. Additionally, Neal Avron’s clean, but not compressed, production keeps a consistent feel throughout the album, even when the songs are stylistically different.

While there are a few bombastic missteps (The carnival interlude on “Mara & Me” comes to mind) Bemis seems to have settled down his musical ADD when it comes to genre splattering. It’s not that Bemis has necessarily turned a blind eye to the musical experimentation of In Defense Of The Genre, it’s that he approaches his songwriting with greater discipline and restraint this time. And after two full discs of pushing the band’s sound to its limits, Bemis has identified and refined what works for the band on Say Anything. While the record doesn’t do anything to win over new fans, Bemis’ singular vision and “evolution without self-consciousness” attitude give the album life and energy.

The album’s standout “Do Better” exemplifies this, taking a pulsing dance beat and covering it with smooth, quirky strings and a twangy guitar solo. Juxtaposed with clever word play like “Life is not a spark in space/An episode of Will & Grace/Controversial yet mundane/Debra’s messing with your brain…” it’s clear that Bemis’ sense of melody allows him some interesting sonic luxuries that accentuate his thoughts.

Bemis' thoughts, however, take this album from simply being a great sounding record into something with a bit more substance. While Bemis has matured from his is first musical outings (Finding a wife and keeping his bi-polar disorder in check) it’s clear that he approaches life with a new sense of perspective this time around.

The second half gem “Cemetery” shows Bemis at his most confessional with lines like “There's a cemetery deep below the sea/There is spaces reserved for fools like me…” Against sparkling acoustic guitars and a grinding, distorted build up, Bemis seems to be taking responsibility for the anguish in his life rather than shifting the blame onto something else as per the genre staple. In the end, he comes to the realization of “Should He asks what got me through?/If He asks me, it was you…” which illustrates Bemis’ new found faith in making human connections.

It is no longer binge and purge writing from Bemis. Instead, cuts like the military drum themed album closer “Ahhh…Men” revels in his new found self-awareness, his comfort in letting that which he doesn’t control, run its course. Bemis sings, “So can I lie in your grave at the edge of the end of the world?/Where I will sit with my love in this fluorescent swirl/Eat us up, break it down to the tiniest cell/In a room with a view and a window to hell…” finding comfort in that all things end, and all things decay, but it’s not to be seen as a failure on his part.

This ultimately creates a record that extends itself organically, while allowing Bemis’ personal growth paint vivid portraits about universal truths.

There are some missteps, “Eloise” goes on for far too long and the chorus on “Death For My Birthday” becomes a bit redundant, but those are small prices to pay for such a consistent record. While listeners will cry out that Bemis has swindled them once again in not rehashing …Is A Real Boy, Say Anything succeeds because Bemis has been able to transfer his matured voice into a greater sonic palate. The result is a record that can stand next to the best of Say Anything’s canon, and in the future, define it.

Key Cuts: Do Better, Cemetery, Ahhh…Men

Sounds Like: Catalyst (A New Found Glory), Interventions & Lullabies (The Format), Pasadena (Ozma)

Click on the artwork to sample Say Anything for yourself!

Weezer- Raditude (***)

Since 2001, one thing has remained constant about Weezer: They’ve pissed off all the critics and fans that fell in love with them in the 90s, and they’ve seemed to take pleasure in doing it.

While bands evolved and lose followers over time, none of them inspire as much hatred and betrayal that Weezer’s ex-fans seem to exhibit. Old followers and rock snobs have collectively disowned Rivers Cuomo, the supposed geek rock equivalent of Anakin Skywalker, accusing him of shifting to the pop music Dark Side with his penchant for hooks and loud guitar. By their standards, The Green Album was too slick, Maladroit was too dull, Make Believe was too poorly written, and The Red Album, for lack of a better way to say it, was just too goofy.

And now, they have Raditude to hate as well.

With 10 tracks, and a fleet of songwriting partners, Weezer’s Raditude effectively ends the hope that Cuomo will ever revisit the mindset that made Pinkerton such a cherished record. Packed to the brim with sugary hooks, punchy rhythms, and squealing guitar, Raditude revels in everything a 13-year-old boy could love about rock music, and everything a 40-year-old man needs to feel young. The result is a record that indulges in ALL of Weezer’s cheesy tendencies, but with half the fun and absence of wit.

On the surface, however, the record is certainly crisp sounding. “I’m Your Daddy” features chugging guitars and thick moog synthesizers, reminding fans that Cars-inspired power-pop never quite goes out of style. Elsewhere, the squealing pseudo metal of “Let It All Hang Out” and the acoustic backed “(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To” inject the disc with plenty of big sing along moments while proving that Weezer is the Bruce Lee of crunchy rhythms.

However, there are some musical detours that bog the disc down, the saccharine quality of such leaving a poor taste in some listeners’ mouths. The Sugar Ray original, but Cuomo penned, “Love Is The Answer” mines a Bollywood aesthetic that feels out of place and inauthentic to really be construed as actual experimentation. Additionally, Cuomo and producer Jermaine Dupri transform the quiet/acoustic Cuomo demo “Can’t Stop Partying” into a bombastic electronic number, with bristling club beats and dance-ready synthesizers.

Oh yeah, and Lil Wayne spits on a verse.

Weezer have always toyed with arrangements, subject matter, and song styles that weren’t native to pop-punk, but this is the first time they fail to be ironic. Raditude’s glaring weakness is its transparency; the disc’s shallowness precludes it from being an astute observation about feel-good culture while relegating it to overwrought, and juvenile, clichés. It’s not that Lil Wayne is on a Weezer record, it’s that listeners can’t take Cuomo’s party anthem about feeling lonely in the club seriously because the music has been constructed too closely to the ideas he rails against.

Additionally, Weezer’s obsession with adolescence is neither clever nor nostalgic. In fact, it comes across as lazy. “Trippin’ Down The Freeway” features an explosive chorus and strong sense of melody, but the lyrics of “I told you that you had put on some weight/You went out with somebody named Kevin Green/You preferred to go to a volleyball game/I told you that you couldn't be more lame…” offer no insight from lost youth love. Much like the Pat Wilson penned clunker, “In The Mall,” it seems like the band is stuck in their Happy Days inspired music video, and cannot move past that when it comes to their subject matter.

Ultimately, Raditude provides a fun listen if an empty one. While it’s all well and good to parade a set of songs that sound like a band enjoying themselves, there is also an issue of really looking at the quality of said songs. Again, the group banishes their best track from this era (The thick, stompy power-pop number “The Prettiest Girl In The Whole Wide World”) to the deluxe edition b-sides, and they fail to exercise any restraint when it comes to their song craft.

In short, the band needs to go back to producer Ric Osseck.

While it’s far from the end of the world, it’s frustrating to see a band just coast on their talents. Raditude is fun in the way 80s hair metal is fun, but never feels as intimate as Weezer’s past catalog. It tragically fails at making listeners think whilst they’re having fun, a hallmark of Weezer’s brightest material. This is partly because of the collaborative song writing process, and the lack of a unified voice, but also because the band seems to be through with painting intimate portraits of their lives.

Gone is the Weezer that toured as metal cover band Goat Punishment, fronted by the Havard student that painted his room all black. Instead, listeners have to accept that this is a Weezer that likes feel-good tunes while hocking Weezer brand Snuggies. While it’s always true that bands evolve and change overtime, it’s fairly uncommon to see a bad relive their teens more than two decades into their career.

Then again, maybe only a band with this much raditude is gutsy enough to try.

Key Cuts: I’m Your Daddy, Let It All Hang Out, The Prettiest Girl In The Whole Wide World (Deluxe Edition only)

Sounds Like: The Cars (The Cars), Hysteria (Def Leppard), Pasadena (Ozma)

Click on the artwork to sample Raditude for yourself!

Tegan & Sara- Sainthood (***½)

In 2007, everybody who was anybody was listening to Tegan & Sara’s The Con. The magazines piled on the accolades while stars like Tom DeLonge raved about the duo’s snappy take on new wave. The Quin sisters were the quintessential indie poster girls in 2007 and with the 2009 drop of Sainthood, it doesn’t seem like they’ll be relinquishing the crown just yet.

Tapping Chris Walla (of Death Cab For Cutie fame) to share production duties, as well as A.F.I.’s Hunter Burgan to help co-write 3 songs, Sainthood finds Tegan & Sara exercising lean melodies against the their monotone delivery and spunky rhythms.

Right off the bat, listeners will find that Tegan & Sara have corrected the major problems that bogged down The Con, namely, that the songs were too crowded. Sainthood is incredibly bass driven, its steady and melodic bounce holding down many of the tracks while Walla keeps the ambient electronics in check. The lead single “Hell” is a great indication of such, featuring Tegan’s rich voice, complimented by dry dance floor beats and fluttering keyboards. While the song’s forceful down strokes are enough to keep heads bobbing, it’s the Quins’ ability to wrap their soulful tongues around twisting metaphors that keeps the audience riveted.

Even if Sainthood isn’t any true step forward for the group, they certainly seemed to have learned how to play to their strengths and eliminate the clutter this time around.

“Arrow” bounces back and forth between cascading overdrive and thumping acoustic guitar, while Sara keeps her nasally register in check. Elsewhere, the album’s stand out “On Directing” throbs along with rich bass work, delicate synthesizers that fade into the ether, and dual vocals that add to the air of spaciousness the Quins seem to be striving for. All together, there is a very organic quality to Sainthood, a spontaneity to the songs that makes them fresher than Tegan & Sara’s previous outing. Perhaps another way to look at it is if The Con opened up the girls’ sonic palate, then Sainthood is an exercise in selectivity.

In many ways, it’s a relief to indulge in such a modest album, especially considering Tegan & Sara’s contemporaries are all trying to out-fox each other in the studio. In that respect, Sainthood never tries to be something it isn’t, opting for restraint rather than indulgence. Yet just because it’s a lean record, doesn’t mean it’s bare bones and sterile. “The Cure” sports some weighty heft with a solid, warm groove and shimmering guitar work. Tegan’s breathy croon of, “All I dreamed up/All that seemed like luck/Seems silly to you now/All I said to you/All I did for you/Seems so silly to me now…” suits the mood perfectly, the atmosphere channeling melancholy rather than rage.

This is also another step up for the girls, for while they’re lyrics have always seemed to revolve around relationships and coming of age, Sainthood feels like a broader perspective than past albums. There are inklings of maturity found all over in the album’s crevices as the Quins explore what it means to hold up relationships and adoration to unreasonable proportions. On the twinkling electronics of “Night Watch,” Sara confesses, “I've got grounds for recourse/Your lungs fill with discourse/You separate from my body/You need consistence from somebody…” The track deftly illustrates a feeling of loss all too common within the group’s subject matter, but Sainthood seems to push for a world-weary perspective rather than a bitter one. This, ultimately, makes the duos lyrics their strongest since 2004’s So Jealous, and makes Sainthood a worthy addition to their canon.

Yet while Tegan & Sara have overcome some of their usual pitfalls, they don’t evade them all. The group still cannot close out an album properly, the second half losing a considerable amount of steam and energy as it meanders along. The stutter-stop pep from “The Ocean” is the sole track that keeps it from flat lining, which is odd considering the first half’s dedication to focus. Part of the problem relies in the band’s sound, their robotic vocals tend to blend together after a while, but some more dynamic songs could have really picked up the disc’s close. As a result, the band just misses out on creating a great record, and merely makes a good one.

Make no mistake though; Sainthood is one hell of a record, expertly balancing Tegan & Sara’s wit with intimate charm. The irony, however, will stem from the fact that most critics will hold them up as indie saints because of this record, the very behavior they write against. Then again, maybe that frustrating level of dissonance will provide more fuel for their follow up.

Key Cuts: Hell, On Directing, The Cure

Sounds Like: Digital Ash In A Digital Urn (Bright Eyes), Take Offs & Landings (Rilo Kiley), The Con (Tegan & Sara)

Click on the artwork to sample some of Sainthood for yourself!

Live: Andrew McMahon @ Swedish American Music Hall (10/25)

At 22 years of age, I’m by no means an old man. I do, however, start to feel like I’ve been around for a while. I pay bills, maintain schedules, and I have to be responsible on a daily basis. As such, I’m finally starting to realize that there are patches of my life where I had to grow up, and I know what it means to grow up with something special, especially when it comes to music.

I’m not talking about simply remembering that hot single you were into as a freshman, radio hits come and go. I’m talking about growing up and learning about life with the records that mean the most to you. Because for me, that’s what Sunday night was about as I saw Andrew McMahon play an intimate acoustic show for an audience that hung on every word.

I went with my friend Steven, perhaps the biggest Andrew McMahon fan I know. He’s seen Something Corporate a few times, Jack’s Mannequin as well, but this was as exciting for him as it was for me due to the small space. Steven, like myself, grew up with McMahon whispering confessional thoughts and big ideas that resonated beyond the hooks they were written with. So naturally, we did our best to keep our excitement in check.

Anytime you see someone that has that kind of affect on you, it’s a big deal.

Additionally, it’s a sentiment the two of us shared with him during the pre-show meet and greet. Security ushered in about 30 of us, Steven and myself included, and we watched McMahon and his right hand guitarist Bobby Raw treat us to a sound check of “Crashin’.” McMahon then took the time to shake everyone’s hand, sign personal mementos, take pictures, and trade stories.

The whole experience was something of a dream, the fans polite and respectful while McMahon never showed the ego typical of most rock stars. Instead, he seemed upbeat, chipper, and gracious. When it came time to meet him, I told him that I’d really love it if he could sing my copy of Something Corporate’s Leaving Through The Window, since it was the album that made me fall in love with his music.

I also told him I wouldn’t be that jerk in the audience screaming for him to play “Konstantine.”

He laughed, his smile still large under the layers of beard that hung to his face, but he took it in stride. He told Steven and I a story about how one audience member in New York made his demands far too vocal and they had to remove him from the venue. McMahon seemed to appreciate the passion and the want to hear such a song, but also found it frustrating when trying to put on a show.

“I guess my reputation precedes me,” he grinned.

He went onto say that he was thankful I connected to his music, that while maybe he’s not in the same place anymore as when he wrote Leaving Through The Window, he’s proud of the snapshot it took of his life. He seemed to still hold a special place for it in his past, even though most fans rudely cry out for only that material when he performs live.

“Don’t worry though,” he said, “We’ll play some old stuff tonight.”

The three of us took a picture, wide smiles and excited looks all around, and that was that. I remember just mulling it all over in my head, the opportunity to meet the man I’d listened to so many times in high school with my jankey disc man. It was out of this world and something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

The show eventually got under way, McMahon treating fans to stripped down versions of about 20 songs that covered his time in Something Corporate and Jack’s Mannequin, as well as some choice covers. Yet what really made McMahon’s set stand out, was the clear passion he plays with. Starting the evening with “Hammers & Strings (A Lullaby),” McMahon’s tiny frame swayed with the keys he tickled, his voice as immersive as his piano work.

It’s easy to see that McMahon cares a great deal about the things he creates. Having his songs stripped to their bare essentials, audiences can tell he pays attention to how his songs are constructed, the tiny details hidden in their dramatic rises and falls. McMahon has a way of writing that reaches for the moon but feels fragile and delicate. Thematically, his material always seems to portray portraits of people searching for something larger than themselves, people in search of near life experiences during moments of quiet reflection.

In addition to his disciplined playing and song craft, McMahon also resonates as a skilled storyteller. This is perhaps his most endearing quality, evident in the vivid situations he sets in songs such as “Bruised” or “21 & Invincible.” The venue’s intimate setting allowed for a closeness, not only to him, but to the characters he’d talk about. Whether it was in the gentle serene comfort found in “As You Sleep” or the small inklings of hope gleaned from “Swim,” McMahon puts his heart on his sleeve to create these songs, a quality that makes him truly special.

While the evening held many high points, perhaps the highest was when McMahon trotted out a little known Something Corporate song that was rarely played live when it came out. Found on the Audioboxer E.P., “Walking By” was easily the biggest surprise of the night that held the audience in complete silence. Normally a string-laden ballad, the song took on a slow and tender pace in the middle of Swedish American Music Hall, one that matched the frailty of McMahon’s timber as he sang, “Why do you look when you've already found it?/What did you find that would leave you/Walking by?”

It was an evening of breathtaking moments, fun stories exchanged, and some jerk that DID scream for “Konstantine.” It was, however, an evening that felt special not just because of sentimentality, but because it gave a small glimpse to the creator of these songs.

After the show, Steven and I waited once more to see McMahon as he greeted the faithful outside the venue. We expressed how much we loved the show and that “Walking By” was a big highlight for us personally. He smiled, perhaps glad that there were people that thought about songs that weren’t singles, but it almost felt like he got something back from us enjoying a song that clearly bared a great deal of his soul.

Maybe in some way he experienced something close to what we did that night, understanding the affect he’s had on people with the songs he’s made. If that’s the case, I’m glad Steven and I could have shared that with him as he shared his songs with us.

20-Something Bloggers Blog Swap

Blogger's note: This entry's been authored by Amy over at One Size Fits All. She's a talented writer and a wonderful lady, so do me the favor and check out her musings because her blog is a fresh and fascinating thing. I'd consider it a personal favor if you did. Thanks!

In my real life, I’m primarily into contemporary folk music – think a lot of women with unshaved armpits with their acoustic guitars – with some classic rock and ‘80s pop thrown in for good measure. In my car, the volume’s always up, and, so long as it’s not snowing, the window down. In my car, we have dance parties.

For the last five months, I’ve been investing more time in Top 40 music, as part of my mainstream blog project (where you’ll find Mike rocking his socks off today). So it was under that lens that, about three weeks ago, I stumbled onto Whitney Houston’s latest single, “Million Dollar Bill.”

As I said in my own blog, “Million Dollar Bill” is like being transported back to 1992. (Luckily for me, fashion already made that announcement last year, and I am well stocked in leggings and oversized shirts for this adventure.) But for the woman text messaging random things in the corner of the video, and the fact that you’ve since gone through puberty, you would have no idea that any time has passed at all since Whitney’s diva noted days of The Bodyguard.

Which leads me to what happened after I posted that blog entry.

Have you suffered through this phenomenon where you’ve carted around MP3s that you downloaded when it used to take actual time to illegally download your music, but you were so excited that you were no longer taping things off the radio on your boombox that you didn’t actually care how long it took, and then all of a sudden you don’t seem to have them anymore? After listening to “Million Dollar Bill,” it came to my attention that my only remaining Whitney MP3s were “When You Believe,” the duet she did with Mariah Carey for The Prince of Egypt and “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

So, iTunes gift card in hand, I downloaded songs that would have made my pre-puberty self proud. Oh, yes, I’m talking “I Will Always Love You,” “Greatest Love of All,” “Exhale (Shoop Shoop).” Remember those dance parties in my car? Well we had a particularly nice week weather wise last week that found me window down, driving up the crowded main street of my Pittsburgh neighborhood, absolutely belting out “I Wanna Dance with Somebody.” Tuesday morning, I passed two of my friends, my hand grasping the air outside to the urgency of “Didn’t We Almost Have It All”; I have not yet heard if I had my music loud enough for them to actually hear as I drove by. I hope so.

By why this flashback? Why the Whitney, the Mariah, the Boyz II Men (not kidding, not at all)? While I made it through middle school relatively unscathed, I can categorically say I’ve never once harbored the wish to repeat even one of those days. Many things in life are layered, nuanced experiences worth examining; middle school is not one of those things. And yet I can’t take my iPod in another direction. It’s been a couple weeks since Dar Williams has had any airtime in my car, and I don’t think I’ve gone that long without listening to her in the past eight years.

And soon, it will be Christmas time. (Christmas music, in my life, does not start until Black Friday.) And, at Christmas, Whitney and Mariah have always reigned supreme. Maybe by the New Year, I’ll understand this need to fall into the bottomless notes of these women, the soulful rhythms of those men, and maybe the phase will have passed altogether. But, for now, it’s nice to know “Count on Me” has not been lost to the dust of my hard drive.

Karen O & The Kids- Where The Wild Things Are Soundtrack (***½)

Maurice Sendak has left a mark on nearly 5 decades of kids and parents alike with his charming children’s book, Where The Wild Things Are. Meticulously crafted with care and love, Where The Wild Things Are represents the best kind of children’s story, one carefully made to be entertaining, as well as present subconscious lessons about life and friendship.

So it’s no surprise that the likes of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Deerhunter, The Dead Weather, Liars, and The Raconteurs were all called in to supplement Spike Jonze’s much labored, live-action adaptation. Whimsically credited to Karen O & The Kids, the Where The Wild Things Are Soundtrack is a rare album that retains enough rambunctious energy for kids, but appeals to a higher musical sophistication.

Forget Kidz Bop, this is the album to drive the kids to daycare with.

Beginning with the wistful humming and delicate acoustic guitar of “Igloo” to the splashy drums and gang harmonies of “Sailing Home” the Where The Wild Things Are Soundtrack balances a fine line between jangly folk-pop and music box laden ballads. Listeners will immediately gravitate to rollicking bombast of “All Is Love,” with its shuffling beat, child backed gang vocals, and subtle piano, but disc is full of rewarding gems.

The biggest draw to the material, however, has to be Karen O’s song writing.

While the album is void of the jagged anger and sexual frustration that marks the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ material, O seems to have found a way to express her thoughts without constructing them like Hallmark jingles. Instead, cuts like the dreamy “Hideaway” find O connecting to listeners with lines like, “Right away, gonna take me from my man/By the way, no they’ll never understand/We’ll have a bit of fun/Watching everyone/Pass us by…” Sweet but never saccharine, O juggles baring her soul with grabby hooks as the spacious ballad is awash with twinkling keyboards, humming acoustics, and brushed cymbals.

Elsewhere, O lends her rich voice to a sparse cover of Daniel Johnson’s “Worried Shoes.” As a low and rich piano provides the song’s spine, other instruments creep in with a gentle tenderness that mirrors O’s frailty. Jaunt xylophone rounds out the track nicely, but what makes it work is the atmosphere O conjures from these simple sounds fitting together like puzzle pieces.

The elegance is in its simplicity, much like Sendak’s beloved novel.

While the album isn’t overrun by balladry, they certainly provide the disc’s emotional core. Still, there is plenty of fun to be had throughout the album’s 40 minute running time. “Capsize” reveals in big shout outs and handclaps, while the percussive stomp of “Rumpus” recalls the joy that comes from children at play. Through a crescendo of hoots and hollers, the track is a perfect feel good moment, one that reveals in the innocence of youth and the unbridled fun that stems from that freedom. If listeners have to ask where the wild things are at, look no further.

Yet for all the sparkling highs, there is a fair share of misses, a reasonable casualty when you’re dealing with a child-like aesthetic.

For one thing, the disc is terribly front-loaded, the most engaging arrangements and poignant atmospheres taking place within the first 7 tracks. Additionally, while the child backing vocals help mold the feel of the music, O and producer Carter Burwell get sloppy with them on the back 7 tracks. “Animal” is a scatter shot, untamed number that could have been shaped into something much less forgettable with a little discipline. Additionally, “Heads Up” feels a bit too campfire eager to have any real staying power, and the repeated musical motifs in “Building All Is Love” undermine the album’s freshness.

It just goes to show you that after all the running around and playing, people get tired.

Complaints aside, however, the Where The Wild Things Are Soundtrack succeeds in a variety of ways. Easily accessible while remaining substantive, it offers a great sonic palate for the film as well as remaining strong as a group of songs. Though rough around the edges, it seems that Karen O & The Kids have been able to put their sonic stamp on Sendak’s work in the same manner Jonze put his visual stamp on it. Where The Wild Things Are Soundtrack feels like a convergence of great ideas, ideas that are just as fun to experience to as they are to dissect.

In this way, the soundtrack perfectly captures the feeling of the film and the feeling of Sendak’s classic: Truths can be gleaned from simple stories, fragile melodies, and the wildest of rumpuses. While this seems like a no-brainer, it took Karen O and a bunch of kids to make that clear.

Key Cuts: All Is Love, Rumpus, Hideaway

Sounds Like: Your first day of Kindergarten.

Click on the artwork to sample some of Where The Wild Things Are Soundtrack for yourself!

Paramore- brand new eyes (**½)

Every once in while, there needs to be a band like Paramore.

This is because fans love female fronted pop-rock. Heavy on hooks and riot grrl chic, Paramore is the 2000s version of No Doubt, all the way down to the bright hair of their female lead singer. While the two bands might be on different ends of the musical spectrum, the one thing that’s certain is that audiences are always gung-ho about the image. It’s appealing to a broad variety of fans; girls think Gwen Stefani and Hayley Williams “get them” while boys just want to get on them. Additionally, both bands sported breakout albums that defined their scenes (Tragic Kingdom and Riot!), and both culled a massive fan base with extensive touring.

Eventually, however, the freshness of the image wears off and audiences must judge these bands based on their artistic merit. While the populist consensus is that No Doubt have cemented their legacy with Rock Steady, the same honor cannot be bestowed just yet for Paramore and their new album, brand new eyes.

Teaming up with veteran producer Rob Cavallo (Who helmed Green Day’s American Idiot), Paramore march through 12 slick songs that come off conservative from a band known for their energy.

While brand new eyes makes for easy listening, it’s frustrating to see Paramore go through sonic growing pains that are normally reserved for a sophomore slump. The quintet’s main problem is that they are too afraid to really take a leap artistically, so their sound resides uncomfortably in the middle of giving fans what they expect, and pushing their sound just far enough to make sure people know this isn’t Riot!: Part Deux.

However, things begin promising as the band is off and running with “Careful,” a track that explodes with Zack Farro’s scattershot drumming, Taylor York’s chunky rhythms, Josh Farro’s thick lead work, and Williams’ commanding voice. The song finds Paramore doing what they do best, combining head bobbing rhythms with stop-on-dime precision and crashing riffs. Jeremy Davis does a great job of holding the arrangement down with his driving bass as the song breaks allow Farro the ability showcase his rich-delay enhanced guitar.

Yet for every breath of fresh air like “Careful,” there are the songs on brand new eyes that really lack staying power and bog down the album’s middle. “Feeling Sorry’s” thumping rhythm goes nowhere fast, with a tired chorus that feels a little phoned in. “Looking Up” follows suit, implementing the same stuttering riffs that bands like Lit and Sum 41 played out to perfection years ago. Lead single “Ignorance” brings some interesting glam grooves and riffs to the table, but the chorus structure will feel like the lost verse of “Misery Business” for most die-hards. In short, Paramore know what they do very well, and it acts like a crutch sometimes.

The other problem with brand new eyes is that most of these tracks are stuck in mid-tempo, never really choosing to fully embrace the potential for speedy melodies or acoustic leanings.

When Paramore does picks a side, the results are the most engaging on the album. “Misguided Ghosts” is a tender and folky acoustic ballad that displays Williams’ voice as bare and vulnerable. York and Farro’s guitar work sparkles in the space, and the sparse arrangement puts the focus back on song craft rather than predictable build-ups. “Playing God” displays an interesting synthesis of the two sides, but would have benefited from a bigger build up during the bridge. Against riffs that ebb and flow along Williams’ rising and falling backing vocals, Paramore illustrate they have the chops to explore new sonic territory, but seem too afraid to embrace it fully.

Still, the brightest part of the album is Williams. Her vocal command is extraordinary, adding spunky perspective and just the right amount of heartache to be taken somewhat seriously. On the expansive album closer “All I Wanted,” Williams shows her impressive register with the ascending repetition of, “All I wanted was YOOOOOOOOOU!” The band supports her well over thunderous drums and massive power-pop influenced riffs. Overall, the track reminds fans that Paramore were a once band with a huge sound, a band that seems to have shrunk it down for brand new eyes.

Sadly, Paramore play things close to the vest on brand new eyes, and the result will appease their shallow fan base while leaving listeners that are interested in progression, a bit letdown. What made Riot! exciting was the band’s willingness to flirt with new wave, vocal lines that felt spontaneous and guitar lines that went from tiny to huge at the drop of the hat. Those elements feel anemic on brand new eyes. While the band channel them on cuts like “Turn It Off” and “Brick By Boring Brick” it’s with half the enthusiasm, half the fun.

Ultimately, Paramore need to decide if they want to appeal to teeny-boppers or open themselves up to real growth. No Doubt was able to balance both, pushing a more electronic flavor forward with Rock Steady while keeping the hooky elements for their fans. Paramore need to find an avenue to explore and stick to it, instead of squandering their potential, leaving the sonically curious wanted more.

Key Cuts: Careful, Misguided Ghosts, All I Wanted

Sounds Like: From Under The Cork Tree (Fall Out Boy), Bleed American (Jimmy Eat World), Weezer (The Green Album) (Weezer)

Click on the artwork to sample some of brand new eyes for yourself!

AFI- Crash Love (**)

“Crash Love” can mean many different things.

If you’re Davey Havok, AFI’s lead singer, you’ll swear that Crash Love is your band’s strongest release yet, a gripping lamentation on celebrity iconography and fleeting experiences. In fact, Havok has even gone on record saying, “The record is really more about how the great attraction to inappropriately shared intimacies, carefully constructed personas, and the loss of a sense of self can affect an entire world…” He also assures listeners that it’s also a step forward in the band’s evolution, stripping back the dense electronics of 2006’s Decemberundergound in favor of more immediate rock sounds.

Sweeping social commentary from the guy that echoed Winona Rider in saying his whole life was one, big, dark room just 3 albums ago.

Yet if you’re part of the legions of AFI faithfuls that will seek out the record, you’ll find that Havok (Along with guitarist Jade Puget, bassist Hunter Burgan, and drummer Adam Carson) have provided fans with something different. Instead, you’ll find that AFI have crashed a gold covered plane filled with their childhood musical influences into the towers of everything AFI once stood for in terms of originality.

Crash Love is an exhausting record. This is not because the sounds and themes are difficult to dissect, but because AFI sound so complacent throughout the disc’s 12 tracks. It’s downright frustrating listening to a band, that’s evolved so purposefully over their last two albums, make something so slick, by-the-numbers and conservative here. Where the band used to surprise listeners with explosive choruses, anthematic sing-a-longs, and tense musical moments, Crash Love offers up slickly produced stadium rock that would rather channel The Smiths and Bowie instead of Nine Inch Nails and Danzig.

“Torch Song” does a good job of misleading listeners off the bat. Amidst thunderous drums, warm bass, and twisting lead work, AFI treat listeners to an expansive opener that recalls the call-and-response of their younger years. Against Puget’s staccato riffs, Havok croons, “I’d tear out my soul/For/You my dear…” While light on the gloom and heavy on gang vocals, “Torch Song” acts as the album’s brightest moment.

Sadly, the album’s biggest problem comes down to the fact that AFI sound too much like their influences. “Veronica Sawyer Smokes” comes across as a Morrissey throw away, and “It Was Mine” is all power-pop-meets-Queen with disastrous results. What used to make AFI unique was their ability to synthesize their influences and splatter them across a hardcore punk frame.

Now, the band seems bored with trying to be innovative and is stuck simply imitating.

Gone is the sweeping dark grandeur of Sing The Sorrow and the cold/electronic ambiance of Decemberunderground. Instead, Crash Love revels in guitars that chime rather than crunch, and arrangements that never take off in addition to feeling out of character. “Too Shy To Scream,” is a chunky glam number with a swing shuffle, a song who’s uptempo hooks feel out of place against the supposed “edgy” lyrics of “I'd die/If you only met my eyes/Before you pass by/Will you pause to break my heart?” While the band has explored song arrangements foreign to punk in the past, it has never come across as forced and has haphazard as it does on Crash Love.

But perhaps the most disconcerting part about the record is how lazy Havok’s writing has become. As AFI has evolved, he became an expert exploring the darkest recesses of the human soul. While he always wrote highly melodic hooks and choruses, Havok was careful not to let cheese creep into his troubled prose.

On Crash Love, however, Havok embraces every clichéd writing trick in the book. “Darling, I Want To Destroy You” features trite lines such as, “I must confess/I am over dressed/Not impressed/Are you not impressed? /Darling I want to…” On “I Am Trying Very Hard To Be Here,” Havok leads his band in calling out, “FLASH FLASH CAR CRASH/We’re not fixtures/QUICK NOW QUICK/Take our pictures!” It’s heartbreaking, and over digitally muted guitars and sterile drumming, AFI come across less as artists and more as gimmicks.

Yet despite the sour taste long time fans might feel with Crash Love, the album does have some shining moments. “End Transmission” creates a chilling atmosphere with Puget’s syrupy guitar lines and Burgan’s moody bass. The album’s single, “Medicate,” injects some life into the album’s second half with a blistering solo while “Cold Hands” features some aggressive grooves. While none of the tracks maintain the listener's attention for their whole running time, AFI do flash occasional moments of brilliance within the album's running time.

However, it’s all too little too late. AFI always prided themselves in their ruthless experimentation because it was earnest and authentic, but Crash Love comes across as neither. Instead, AFI have created an album that does not play to their strengths, but an album that captures a once fearless band as a shadow of their former selves.

Celebrity has taken a toll on this band, and ironically, in whining about movie stars and car crashes it seems that AFI has become the very thing they attempted to dissect. It’s with this that perhaps another meaning can be gleaned from “Crash Love:” The moment where one’s desires converge into a large mess that no longer resembles what you once felt attached to.

From that perspective, at least the album is appropriately titled.

Key Cuts: Torch Song, End Transmission, Medicate

Sounds Like: Wish (The Cure), The Golden Age Of Grotesque (Marilyn Manson), Strangeways Here We Come (The Smiths)

Click on the artwork to sample some of Crash Love for yourself!

5 Shot Reviews

Try as I might, I couldn’t keep up with ALL the releases that have come out this month. I did, however, have things to say about the ones that fell through the cracks, so I thought I’d share quick thoughts on some of these large name albums.

The Black Dahlia Murder- Deflorate (****)

In the realm of extreme metal, no one continues to put forth albums that are as accessible while remaining vicious like The Black Dahlia Murder does. Most bands sacrifice the music or the muscle in this genre, but Deflorate does neither. Sure, a noticeable slickness has crept into their production, but Deflorate still presents 30 minutes of sweeping guitar solos, manic riffs, and endless drumming. As usual, Trevor Strnad’s schizophrenic vocals balance between grating shriek and deathly growl and band continues to stop and start on a dime. While they subscribe to the “if –it-ain’t-broke-don’t-fix-it” mentality, it seems to be suiting them just fine.

Key Cuts: Black Valor, Christ Deformed, I Will Return

Imogen Heap- Ellipse (**)

The largest problem with Ellipse is that Imogen Heap has dropped her hyper-layered style of electronica and opted for sparser songs. This would have worked if she could have kept the album’s energy up, but banking on spacious keyboards and her unconventional voice don’t really make the record compelling. “Swoon” gets the closest in recapturing Imogen Heap’s loopy melodies, but even that crawls at a snail’s pace. Though there’s nothing offensive on Ellipse, there’s also nothing that will really stick out at listeners. Fans used to be surprised with a clever sample or a thick beat that made her songs come alive; however, Ellipse struggles to maintain a musical pulse.

Key Cuts: First Train Home, Swoon, Between Sheets

Jay-Z- The Blueprint 3 (****)
Jay-Z has struggled since coming back from retirement. Kingdom Come was abysmal, and American Gangster was too high in concept and not in execution. The Blueprint 3, on the other hand, displays Hova doing what he does best, surrounding himself with a talented production team and hungry guest stars as he talks about life on top. Lyrically, he seems to be very aware of the legacy he’s crafting for himself and that comes up quite a few times in tracks like “Empire Of The Sun” and “Forever Young.” However, the record really shines because of how Kanye West and No I.D.’s blend of synthpop and soul dominates the album’s production. The music seamlessly bridges old and new flavors, playing out like a greatest hits parade to compliment Jay-Z’s hip-hop reign. While it’s sad to see “Jockin’ Jay-Z” absent from the final cut, no one will be jockin’ the Jigga Man after a record like this.

Key Cuts: Run This Town, Empire Of The Sun, Forever Young

Pearl Jam- Backspacer (**)

Perhaps it’s hardest to see 90s music stars age, but it’s a fact of life that eventually catches up to everyone and Pearl Jam is no exception. Rekindling their relationship with producer Brendan O’Brien, Backspacer is the sound of a band painfully trying to recapture lost youth. It’s curious considering how their 2006 self-titled effort felt like a more authentic stab at the band’s roots, but it’s clear Pearl Jam sounds tired. “The Fixer” is a fine introductory single with its bouncing rhythms and Eddie Vedder’s hooky “Yeah, Yeah Yeahs…” but the buck stops there. The production strips away the band’s natural grit even if it spaces out the rhythm section well. Oddly, it’s the acoustic folk-tinged moments that resonate most. “Just Breathe” showcases Vedder as a world-weary traveler, and feels more honest than any of the louder numbers. If slowing down is a sign of age, maybe th

e band should consider leaving the amps at home from now on.

Key Cuts: The Fixer, Just Breathe, Supersonic

Muse- The Resistance (***)

Anticipations run high when people tout you as Queen for Gen Y, and it was only a matter of time before Muse slipped up a bit. The Resistance while being a solid album is simply a good album from a band we’re accustomed to getting GREAT albums from. While the skittering electronics of “Undisclosed Desires” and the Freddy Mercury swagger of “United States Of Eurasia (+Collateral Damage)” provide the album’s meat and potatoes, Muse have made a record that is light on riffs this time around. As a result, the songs don’t explode like they normally would from these Brits, and it shows. The three-part “Exogenesis” symphony is a nice listen with pulsing beats, sweeping strings, and mammoth sounding guitar, but it’s rather subdued in tone when it should go for the throat. Ultimately, The Resistance is a record that will easily grow on fans but it’s far from the stratosphere this band is capable of reaching.

Key Cuts: Uprising, Undisclosed Desires, United States Of Eurasia (+Collateral Damage)

Brand New- Daisy (*****)

Let’s get something clear: Brand New is dead.

Daisy is evidence of that.

This album isn’t a charmingly witty take on pop-punk. It’s also not a hyper verbose and dreamy homage to the Smiths and Built To Spill. There is no God here for the Devil to fight, and at times fans might not even know if Brand New (as they know them) are here.

This is Daisy, and it will eat your babies.

After another long extended absence, the Long Island 5 piece returns with a record that is all fire and brimstone, full of noisy riffs, gut wrenching screams, and dense atmospheres. While vocalist/guitarist Jesse Lacey has taken a backseat to guitarist Vinnie Accardi’s writing for this record, it’s clear that the band worked as a solid unit with a very focused mindset to craft this 40-minute monster.

Beginning with an old timey phonograph and 30s inspired jazz singer, “Vices” quickly gives way to manic chaos and dissonant riffs. Instruments slam into each other with caustic fury and Garrett Tierney’s bass holding the song steady. Lacey’s raspy screams and Brian Lane’s spacious drumming beat on the eardrums. Brand New have always enjoyed a level of energy in their work, but on “Vices” and on the rest of Daisy, they’re never felt so visceral.

This can be attributed to two very specific things: A) Brand New’s sudden fascination with the blues and B) Their urge to play far more groove oriented music. From Accardi’s searing lead work on “Bought A Bride” to the seductive verses in “Sink” Brand New have flavored their riffs with a blues overtone that adds to Daisy’s old feel. Listeners will find that despite being produced in 2009, the old sermon snippets and vinyl pops make the record feel like something you’d find in an attic. This sudden southern flair has added an interesting dimension to their sound, one that compliments Daisy’s raw feel while adding something new to Brand New’s sonic palate.

And when it comes to groove, Brand New have some seriously hypnotic ones. The album’s title track stomps and grinds along aside mournful gang vocals and spidery guitar lines. Elsewhere, the album’s closer “Noro” wheezes and lurches its way down into the bowels of hell with Tierney’s over fuzzed bass and Accardi’s twangy lead work. The band carries over the same of foreboding that they had on The Devil & God Are Raging Inside Me, but the songs on Daisy are looser, more claustrophobic, and a lot messier.

Yet it’s the lyrics that really grip listeners, both for their unflinching honesty and tragic frustration.

While many die-hard fans will complain about their directness, Daisy seems to be fixated around the afterlife, the evil that permeates the human condition, and the dangers of religious evangelism. On the smoldering “Gasoline” Lacey screams, “So there's a sickness and it's goin' round/But no one's got a vaccine/And they can drown in holy water/But I think it's time we all come clean…”

Suffice to say, Brand New aren’t a band to mince words, and the binge and purge writing is big part of Daisy’s allure.

While it’s unclear who wrote which songs (All lyrics credited to Accardi/Lacey) what IS clear is how these men in there 30s still feel lost, forlorn, and uncomfortable about where they are in the lives. “Bought A Bride” tackles the unnerving truths of settling down for the sake of direction, “Should've been a soldier/I could've fought and died/There's no revolution/So I bought a bride…” while “Daisy” paints a larger more existential quandary as Lacey chants, “Well if you take all these things and bury the past/And pray that they turn to seeds and roots and then grass/It'll be alright/It's alright/It'd be easier that way…” Brand New’s imagery tends to revolve a great deal around nature this time around; a push towards something more basic or even human, and the results hold a more somber sense of melancholy than past albums.

In any event, both men are preoccupied with how social institutions are fleeting, and that there is a moral/spiritual decay we should be conscious of. On the album’s crowning achievement “You Stole,” Lacey gently whispers over delicate and dreamy guitar lines, “So if I'm a liar/And you're a thief/At least we both know where the other one sleeps/So let's end this tonight…” While the rest of the track rumbles forward with crashing riffs, Lacey’s voice adds a sense of majesty to the white noise confusion and gentle atmospheres.

And what it ultimately comes down to is how well Brand New’s songwriting is maturing with their age. The short answer? Like fine wine.

Daisy isn’t always messy and dissonant, the off-timed jazzy twinkling of “Bed” offering atmosphere and haunting visuals, but make no mistake that it is a record that requires multiple listens because of how raw it is.

Yet at the same time it’s subversive, a record will get under people’s skin while they unpack it and spend time with it. Daisy is a rare record because while most bands can easily do a stylistic overhaul, not many maintain the same sense of voice and honesty as Brand New has. In their interviews and on record, Brand New are a band that refuses to cater to what’s expected of them, and as a result, they are able to carry forward sonically while maturing with that special world perspective that makes them so unique.

So perhaps it’s best that the Brand New, as world knows them, is dead. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have been able to forge forward and make a record like Daisy.

Key Cuts: Bed, You Stole, Bought A Bride

Sounds Like: Thickfreakness (The Black Keys), Loveless (My Bloody Valentine), In Utero (Nirvana)

Click on the artwork to sample some of Daisy for yourself!

My $0.02: Billy Corgan's Smashing Experiment

Billy Corgan seems to be trying to lead The Smashing Pumpkins' legacy into stranger and weirder places these days. Whether it's turning a blind eye with the abdication of Jimmy Chamberlain, hiring a new 19 year old drummer, or telling his fans they suck, Corgan has been adamant that The Smashing Pumpkins are HIS band now, and he'll do whatever he damn well pleases. As such, yesterday's announcement about the release of a new Smashing Pumpkins album is just as strange.

Teargarden By Kaleidyscope will be a 44 song concept album about Corgan's tarot fascinations, released online and through limited edition E.P.s. Additionally, once all 44 songs are released, Corgan has promised fans a box set that culls together everything in one concise package.

Oh, and did I mention that the online downloads are free?

Let me repeat: Billy Corgan is NOT charging money for theses songs.

It's a dicey move, one that's grand enough for the Great Pumpkin and his humble little band, but can a project of this magnitude really sustain itself? It's hard enough to maintain a good double album full of quality material and rarely is a trilogy even attempted. 44 songs is a TON of music, and Corgan's promise of "the original psychedelic roots of The Smashing Pumpkins: atmospheric, melodic, heavy, and pretty" might not be enough to win over those who soured on Zeitgeist.

Here are some things to consider:

The Good:
-As an avid fan of Siamese Dream, Corgan's promise of the original Pumpkins sound does intrigue me. I'm not short-sided enough to believe this album is going to sound like a time capsule from 1993, but a bit more shoegaze and a little less metal could add some life to Corgan's recent output.
-Corgan has effectively diminished the effect music piracy can have on an album and is reaching out to Generation iTunes. His release of songs one at a time, for free, in a digital capacity, makes the release more difficult to really disperse for pirates. In fact, it asserts his artistic autonomy while presenting his distribution method as the best way to get the material. The added bonus of E.P.s and box sets are ideal for collectors and faithful fans. Is it the beginning of the musical revolution we so desperately need?
-Unlike some bands (I'm looking at you Bloc Party) that offer an incomplete album online, the Teargarden By Kaleidyscope project is the whole enchilada. Bravo, Billy.

The Bad:
-Will this seriously impact how we listen to records? Corgan is releasing these songs one at a time over the coming months, so unless fans hold out until all the material is out, they won't be experiencing the material as one complete work. This troubles me, especially because I'm a firm believer in "the album" as an art form.
-How will he maintain interest? While everyone is buzzing about it now, receiving updates via Facebook or Twitter will become monotonous for every song release. This is going to be a big challenge for him.
-What fidelity can fans expect with these initial releases? Will we have to wait a year before we experience these songs at 320 kbps? For audiophiles, this is really frustrating.

Ultimately, we'll have to wait to see the full success/failure of Corgan's newest ego trip. Yet if the songs are good, none of this might matter one single (pun intended) bit.

Live: blink 182 @ Sleep Train Amphitheatre/Shoreline Amphitheatre

It’s important to remember when you fell in love.

There’s only one first time for it and it leaves one hell of an impression. Nothing in the world is quite like those small little tingling moments when your head feels light and your heart beats too fast. You swoon, and your mind takes a snapshot of how your body feels. It’s pretty incredible.

So one can imagine how it feels to feel that again, and I need to thank blink 182 for that.

While nostalgia has been running high on blink 182’s summer reunion tour, the band puts on a show that can almost justify the $40 t-shirts they sell. Supported by Chester French, Taking Back Sunday, and Weezer, blink 182 has assembled a ticket that’s interested in tapping into something deeper than just past reputations.

They want you to feel them like a force of nature (Or call girl), and that’s exactly what they accomplish.

The wet, rainy evening began with the rather bland Chester French, offering up half-hearted dance punk for the crowded masses. It left audiences hungry for the real large guns as Andrew "D.A." Wallach and Maxwell Drummey’s material simply failed to leave an impact. They dabble in big sing-a-long choruses and funky synthesizers, but lose the audience when they start singing about “laying pipe.”

Yet it made sense having them on the tour: They are a band desperately attempting to achieve great things through modest means. It’s a label that blink 182 heard all throughout their early days. In a fun way, it seemed like blink’s decision to include them was a nod to their younger years, perhaps hoping to grant Chester French with the same hope that their musical heroes gave them.

Still, there is no substitution for good music and the night’s performances only got better.

Taking Back Sunday ripped through a concise set that ignored a great deal of their old material, but proved they still have a great knack for working a crowd. Adam Lazzara still slithers like Gen Y’s Mick Jagger, and new guitarist Matt Fazzi seemed incredibly comfortable singing dual vocals on classics like “Cute Without The ‘E’ (Cut From The Team).” While the stutter stop energy and rusty riffs of “Sink Into Me” kept audiences on their toes, it was cuts from 2006’s Louder Now that truly made the set. “Liar (It Takes One To Know One)” hit the audience hard, Mark O’Conell’s deft cymbal work and Eddie Reye’s punchy guitar paving the way for Lazzara’s all-too-snide vocals. The band ending up closing with “MakeDamnSure,” the stadium echoing Lazzara’s romantic throes syllable for syllable.

While it’s clear that Taking Back Sunday has lost a great performer with the departure of Fred Mascherino, they provided a show that was tight, precise, and no-nonsense. Which was great, because Weezer brought the first wave of nonsense.

Led by vocalist/guitarist Rivers Cuomo (the 12-year-old trapped in a 39-year-old body), Weezer put forth a show that was high in shenanigans and power-pop. While the band’s matching jumpsuits and ukulele smashing antics kept fans laughing, it was the music that kept them entertained. Playing close to half the songs on 1994’s Weezer (The Blue Album) the band reminded fans that they still have a knack for being the coolest uncool guys ever. “Undone (The Sweater Song)” still crunches with all the fuzz and dorky self-loathing that made it huge more than a decade ago, while “Pork & Beans” chugs along with its thick melodies and awkward wit. Elsewhere, “Say It Ain’t So’s” flashy guitar solo let Weezer pretend they were stadium gods, while their new single “If You’re Wondering If I Want You To (I Want You To)” reminds fans that they can still write charming love songs.

Still it’s Weezer’s imperfections and their consistent pursuit of rock grandeur that continue to charm. While they’re sonic palate has expanded a bit (Brian Bell playing keyboards on “Perfect Situation,” Pat Wilson occasionally picking up a guitar and shredding on “Hash Pipe”), it’s Weezer’s ability to shoot for the power-pop moon and fall slightly short that pushes people to see their live set. They’ve never been a sophisticated band, but their talent stems from hitting hard with hooks, sweet melodies and clumsy situations. It’s endearing, in a “kids-playing-superheroes-with-a-towel-for-a-cape” type of fashion.

In short, Weezer understand why people love them and they love to give the people what they want. Love is not based in perfection it’s based in balance, a balance of fun and meaning.

blink 182 understood that too.

As the black curtain dropped to the opening pick slide of “Dumpweed,” the San Diego trio put together a 2 hour set full of the things that their fans fell in love with. There was machine-like precision of Travis Barker’s drumming, Mark Hoppus’ wistful singing and bouncing bass, and Tom DeLonge’s messy guitar and 12th grade mindset. Yet the most compelling part of the show was how much fun the trio seemed to be having just playing together, revisiting through their back catalog and their biggest singles.

Sure, DeLonge’s voice can’t always hit the notes he could a decade ago, and the band would occasionally fall out of step with one another, but the passion they had for their songs was front and center. Cuts such as the snotty “Anthem Pt. 2” and wildly dissonant “Stockholm Syndrome” were punctuated with added fervor from their studio counterparts. Additionally, the band treated fans to extended instrumental sections on ballads like the Tim Burton-esque “I Miss You” and “Down.” Rain kept the audience cold and shivering, but there was hardly a mouth that wasn’t screaming alongside Hoppus or DeLonge’s lyrics.

It was all love, pure and simple.

However, the real fascinating part about the show was how well blink’s discography seemed to gel. A thick and chunky rendition of “What’s My Age Again?” seemed right at home next to the abrasive thump of “Violence.” “Carousel” wasn’t its thinly recorded self, it was a furious 3 chord assault that felt comfortable next to the swirling bass work and dreamy guitar playing of “Always.” Supplementing their goofy charisma with passionate playing, blink 182 were able to present audiences with a consistent summation of their past and present without feeling like a tribute to themselves. In fact, it was clear that it came from a place of love, right down to DeLonge’s t-shirt.

Standing there as the house lights came up, it was evident that the evening had been all about love (Even if the merch booth was about cash). Seeing Hoppus and DeLonge crack sex jokes and embrace on stage within a matter of minutes could have only happened if they really believed in what they were doing as a band. 2009’s blink 182 wants to play these songs as an extension of who they are, and seeing them live reminds listeners why they bought their albums in the first place.

It’s love, the ability to revisit something and have it move you like it did so many years ago. It means taking something into yourself, warts and all, because you see some of the truest truths in it.

It’s love, and blink 182 gets it.