MUSIC

section by: Jeb Delia


INFINITE ARMS

Band of Horses

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Given the somewhat lackluster new album delivered by the BoDeans recently, it’s nice to have these good fellas offering up those rootsy harmonies and chiming guitars. Ben Bridwell goes the by-now-almost-obligatory “musical collective” route (he’s the only one who actually appears on every track here), but all the players are so in tune with each other that something like the lead single, “Laredo,” feels as tough and together as if they’d been gigging the song for years, while the harmonies on “Blue Beard” are so tight you’d think they’d let Fleet Foxes into the studio. Me, I’d have trimmed the payroll and cut down on some of the backing tracks, but a diffusion of focus is kind of the point of some of the songs. And if Bridwell sometimes sounds like another leftover hippie, at least he’s got the good sense to be worried by that (“On My Way Back Home”).


 

BROTHERS

The Black Keys

 

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Two albums into the full-band experiment, I’d say that enlarging the group is diminishing the sound. Where before your imagination would fill in the spaces that Auerbach and Carney left for your ears, now they’re being literally filled, and not always in the most complementary ways—I mean, maybe you imagined cheesy harpsichord fills and backup singers cooing “oooh-aaah” on their earlier albums, but I never did (and that whistling on “Tighten Up” actually makes me a little nervous). The songs are still good—“Ten Cent Pistol” has a nice soul groove, and “Sinister Kid” is a wildly catchy statement of purpose (“That’s me, that’s me—the boy with the broken halo”), and the various studio tricks and guest players work better than they did last time. I suppose you can’t just stay in one place for your entire career. But these days, The Black Keys are a pretty good rock and roll band; they used to be something odder and less easily defined.

 

LOVE & ITS OPPOSITE

Tracey Thorn

 

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Marriage and kids seemed like a good enough reason for Thorn to step away from the music scene; the terrors of “middle age” (mind you, she’s younger than Madonna) seem to have been compelling enough to prompt her return. This album’s even starker and bleaker than 2007’s Out of the Woods, and the lyrics can be an unflinching mirror (“Can you guess my age in this light?” she asks in the appropriately depressing “Singles Bar”). But, then, who better to ask such questions than a pop star whose sensual, worldly younger self is preserved forever on CD’s and iPods all over the world, and who has to see that contrast all the time. And the album’s title is apt: the opposite of “love” is certainly not “hate,” but the kind of bland indifference to emotion that Thorn’s voice can convey at its coolest. Great cover: Thorn and Jens Lekman on Lee Hazelwood’s “Come On Home To Me.”

 

LIVE ON THE SUNSET STRIP

Otis Redding and His Orchestra

 

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I’d call this, not Exile On Main Street, the week’s most important re-release… except, incredibly, most of this stuff hasn’t been released before: three complete live sets, on two CD’s, of the greatest soul singer of his day ripping apart the Whiskey A Go Go at the height of his power in 1966, in sharp, clear sound. I’m generally not a fan of the “kitchen sink” approach to this sort of musicology (exercising a bit of critical judgement is what editors are supposed to get paid for), but in this case, I’ll excuse it: if they had stuck to just the most obvious selections from the Redding catalog, I’d never have these versions of “A Hard Day’s Night” or “Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag.” And so what if there’s five versions of “Satisfaction” on here—it’s not like I wouldn’t listen to him sing the song five times over.

 

OTHER NOTABLE 5/18 MUSIC RELEASES

 

 

LCD Soundsystem, This Is Happening. OK, it’s probably my worst impulses showing through, but the song from this album I can’t get out of my head is “Drunk Girls.” The smooth groove of “You Wanted a Hit” damn well gets the job done, too.

 

Janelle Monáe, The ArchAndroid. Pretentious sci-fi bullshit? Maybe. But trust me—Bowie would have killed to make Diamond Dogs sound this funky.

 

The Rolling Stones, Exile on Main Street. The previously unreleased material isn’t all that revelatory, but they did bring back fucking Mick Taylor for overdubs, so that’s good right there. My favorite part of the package: instead of a documentary on the making of the original album, it comes with a trailer for the documentary that you can buy next month. These guys didn’t become tax exiles for nothing.

 

Crooked Still, Some Strange Country. Here’s the hook: smooth, pure folkie vocals laid on top of some of the most frenetic bluegrass playing around.

 

Nas and Damian Marley, Distant Relatives. In the marriage of dub and hip-hop, I’m guessing the reception will be amazing.

 

Mindi Abair, In Hi-Fi Stereo. There’s plenty of young women out there learning to play E-Z Listening “jazz lite” on guitar or piano, but it’s the sax players that get the push (see: Candy Dulfer, Katja Rieckermann, etc.). I suspect it’s because the Marketing department likes the idea of hotties who lick their lips, then put something hard in their mouth and blow. Better this than Kenny G, anyway.

 

Susan Cowsill, Lighthouse. Yes, THAT Susan Cowsill.

 

Mary Gauthier, The Foundling. Is genuine tragedy more compelling than tragedy imagined? The case would be made stronger by more compelling music than is on offer here.