Can music be cute? And if so, can it be a good thing? If Anya Marina is any indication, the answer to both questions is yes.
“Just because you don’t believe it/ Doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it,” Neko Case sings on “The Next Time You Say Forever,” one of the many superb tracks on her sixth solo album, Middle Cyclone. Believe this: Case has turned in an album that easily ranks among her best—quite possibly the best of her career.
It’s a tribute to U2’s bond as a band that they manage to sidestep their celebrity status and non-musical public persona, at least when they’re in the studio. On the child-like balladry of “White As Snow,” and virtually all the rest of No Line on the Horizon, these four Irishmen sound as human as the rest of us.
With Here We GoMagic, Luke Temple completes his transformation from everyday singer/songwriter to eccentric bedroom visionary. Trading standard instrumentation for a four-track, a sampler and some found sounds, Temple arranges broad sonic horizons and soft, intimate whispers into a singular aural vision that is hypnotic from the opening notes to the closing silence.
How Wes Anderson picks the sounds for his films is beyond me. But if he’s reading, he may want to lend an ear to Secret Dakota Ring, a side project driven by OK Go guitarist Andy Ross.
Volume Three of New Arrivals features 19 tracks by independent artists who are devoting their music for a great cause: National Eating Disorders Association.
Probably the biggest trap into which a live album can fall is that of sounding too much like a studio album. After all, if it sounds pretty much like the studio cuts with crowd noise in between, what's the point? A live album should inject different energies or arrangements into the songs we already love, not just rehash them. It's an all too common disaster and any band on the verge of it would be wise to use Still Dangerous as a guide toward righteousness (just as much as Lizzy's established classic Live and Dangerous).
Subtle sonic beauty is the core of Speck Mountain’s second LP. At times haunting, at times warm and breezy, there is a dream-like ambiance that permeates the collection. Marie-Claire Balabanian’s soulful vocals are strong without ever over-singing (pop divas should take note). Instead, her vocals, like the swelling organ, well-placed tambourine, and fuzzed guitars, are one of many sounds mixed together to comprise a complete auditory picture. While nothing ever stands out, repeated listens reveal an intricacy to the song-craft. The throbbing baseline of “Angela” would be nothing without the harmonized vocals; the guitar arpeggio at the root of “Shame on the Soul” is complimented perfectly by a minimalist percussion, including reverb-drenched tambourine. Because of the emphasis of ambiance over hooks some of the songs have a hard time distinguishing themselves, but if there ever was a good drone, this is the one.
Don’t be fooled by honeyhoney’s moniker. The debut album from this duo, composed of Suzanne Santo and Ben Jaffe, is anything but saccharine and repetitive. It begins with Santo’s beautiful voice singing slow a cappella, usually an indication of a soulful ballad, before the band jumps in and turns the song (“Black Birds”) into a mid-tempo jazzy tune. It is the first of many pleasant surprises.
This album is a regression for The Secret Machines – and one that is to be expected with the amicable departure of guitarist Ben Curtis, who focuses now on School of Seven Bells.
