Merch
Tim Dawe
Penrod (Collector’s Choice)
Reckoned by liner notary Richie Unterbarger as the most obscure LP to come out of Frank Zappa’s Straight label is here retrieved from the Great Maw of History. This minor 1969 example of Zappa’s congenital what-the-fuckism. Dawe was an obscure Strip folkie who left few traces of existence outside this handsomely-produced set. That a sonic sleuth like Unterbarger can find out almost nothing about Dawe is a good sign the Higher Meanings of smooth-psych dada like “Junkie John” and “No Exit (Café & Gallery)” will go forever uncommented upon by the rock snoboisie, who like a bit of bioporn along with their earhole revelations. Produced by Jerry Yester (late of the Lovin’ Spoonful), who tastefully slathered strings and enough psychedelic touches to keep indie-attuned ears pricked.
–Ron Garmon
Loudon Wainwright
Recovery (Yep Roc)
One of the more eccentric figures in American music, Loudon Wainwright always has a new trick up his sleeve to add to an already massive repertoire. His 19th studio album, Recovery, has the troubadour looking back on his extensive oeuvre and reworking the originally sparse folk material. Produced by Joe Henry, his collaborator on the Knocked Up soundtrack, classics such as “School Days” and “Say That You Love Me” are given a full orchestral sound much akin to that of his son Rufus’s work. (Recovery comes out in mid-August.)
–Carman Tse
Blacklist Union
Breakin Bread With the Devil (Blu Records)
The band’s name is befitting a group of angsty neo-Trotskyite L.A. art-punk rockers. But from Blacklist Union’s rhinestone-encrusted half-stacks sluices forth corroded, impotent hair metal. Ripping pages from playbooks of lucrative homogenists Nickelback and Creed, BU’s hooks all consist of various permutations of the same four power chords, and the band’s lyrical muse favors such fourth-grade notebook-scrawl couplets as “Supersize./Eye on the prize.” BU’s musical territory is simultaneously underwrought, overwhelming and self-aggrandizing – loathsomely elementary with delusions of metallic adequacy. Breakin Bread is a piss-poor attempt at music, and a vapid excuse of an album. Catch it blaring from the speakers at your favorite WWF event. Your second-favorite, too.
–Daniel Stainkamp
Tanz
Delon & Declan (Boxer)
Pursuing in a signature style that blends the principles of minimal tech with the flow and heat of house/electro, Greg Delon and Andre Dalcan have established a solid reputation throughout the Clublands of France and Spain. In their continued pursuit of music that moves, they have successfully produced this cyborg of an LP. Tanz is proof that dance music with minimalist foundations can simultaneously employ tech-y, android structures, yet retain enough warmth and sensual groove to remind us there is, indeed, a ghost in the shell. Other artists have of late pounded the hot, hard, metallic synth sound into the dance-dance bedrock, D&D craft diversely stylized landscapes spread across electro, rave, house and techno. With impeccable pacing that makes it engaging to listen to even off the dance floor, Tanz is a collection of aural geographies equally inhabitable for dancers both human and machine.
–Ramie Becker
Opiate for the Masses
Manifesto (Century Media)
Lint-flavored candy from a buncha Sunset Strip types, this album marks a startling aboveground move for Century Media Records – guess all that death and black metal was all starting to sound the same over there. This one firmly falls into the industrial pop-grunge bin, with singer Ron Underwood growling hummably downbeat choruses fed to him by band mate Jim Kaufman which strive for anthem-itude with modern-day suburbanites. Underwood/Kaufman may be feeling the world’s pain like Reznor, but they’re quite capable of expressing themselves in KROQ-friendly, three-minute bites. Hints of Linkin Park in there, too, which should make Opiate the perfect junk-food soma for teens these next few brutally hot months.
–Joshua Sindell
Published: 06/25/2008
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