That's My Dad.

Dope Body - Natural History

The walls have been caving in for thrash-metal, punk and post-hardcore fans for a new kind of thrill in recent years, alas, along comes Baltimore quartet Dope Body on their highly compelling new LP (featured on Drag City Records), “Natural History”: where rage meets dance and primal darkness comes hand-in-hand with vivacious, positively-charged fun in truly unorthodox fashion. An introduction to this group comes incomplete without the urgent disclaimer: don’t fucking miss out on this, Dope Body comes easily as one of the most impressive experimental groups this year, on all charts. (9/10)

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Safety Not Guaranteed - 

It may not trump “Little Miss Sunshine” (same producers, similar themes) in terms of quotability or sustenance, but “Safety Not Guaranteed” does well for a charmingly wholesome indie rom-com basking with adamant nostalgia and endearing finesse over past lovers and time travel. (7/10)

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The Walkmen - Heaven 

Let’s face it. The “Bows & Arrows” Walkmen is gone; gone with age. No longer is the cherished indie rock quintet filling up your hearts with picaresque and youthful A-grade post-punk vigor, instead The Walkmen have worked on a greater career act spanning seven albums including their latest 7th: “Heaven”. With each release, The Walkmen allowed themselves to age gracefully through their music and not hold up a forte, growing weaker over time. It’s a rare quality, considering how many rock bands get pressured into sustaining a profitable sound and image or refuse to leave their comfort zone. The Walkmen utilizes a long term band’s worst enemy and took it in as their pet, progressively creating more mature work as the calender pages flip over. “Heaven” alternates gracefully between quietly captivating songs like “We Can’t Be Beat” or “Southern Heart” to glistening gems like “Love is Luck” about charming memories of yesteryears and intricate characters throughout the thirteen tracks. Not only does the album prove as a rewarding and sensitive listen but reminds us of the true capabilities rock bands have within their own conditions. (7/10)

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Sun Kil Moon - Among the Leaves

Those familiar with best kept secret singer/songwriter project Sun Kil Moon know that subtlety is not a game they play. In the past ten years over four albums, relentless emotion and heart-shattering poetry take precedent on their music, never leaving a moment to breathe with the project’s tremendous emotional impact. Therefore, its massively disappointing to hear SKM avert from these aspects that made their appeal and style so unforgettable. Unlike the project’s appreciated discography, their latest album, “Among the Leaves”, deals with new territory at an odd time in the band’s timeline: coming-of-age. While change comes advised to creative folk artists, disaster almost always strikes when artists aim to create material over undeveloped territory. Throughout the entire set of seventeen painfully forgettable tracks, “Among the Leaves” is a sullen bummer: like a dreadfully blotchy diary no one wants to decipher. (6/10) 

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Two Door Cinema Club - Tourist History

“Tourist History” is a snappy pop record that throws a bit of pixie dust at your face to compensate for the fact it’s really simplistic. It’s not something you end up hating Two Door Cinema Club for, I mean, their choruses stick around your brainwaves like leeches and they wear their European presence on their sleeve; instant love for some, right? “Tourist History” falls next to the likes of Foals and Phoenix and make for great indie pop mix-tape material, but aside that notion, “Tourist History” is the ‘flavor of the week’ pop album that you’ll certainly forget about, not matter how infatuated you get. (7/10)

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Santigold - Master of My Make-Believe

Four years ago, Santi White, better known as Santigold, set the bar for pop music for the music industry, especially herself.

Her debut record, “Santogold”, featured not just several of its year’s greatest tracks (“L.E.S. Artistes”, “Shove It”) but shed light on the line between mainstream and indie pop. White fit both molds, using creative freedom associated with indie music and the resources of a mainstream release. Looking back, “Santogold” still holds a place in my heart for making some of the most irresistible pop tunes without having to get weird (i.e. M.I.A., Lady Gaga).

Despite previous efforts, there wasn’t specifically any tension for her latest album: “Master of My Make-Believe”. As far as anybody was concerned, listeners were well aware of her creative standards. Looking her track record, there couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with any of White’s future work. Yet, “Master of My Make-Believe” succumbs to the worst complaint pop music could get: it’s boring.

Astonishingly so, “Master of My Make-Believe” barely rises to the occasion of its agenda and, frankly, lacks any sincere artistic efforts. It’s not that this LP has anything sour or tracks that stick out like sore thumbs, “Master of My Make-Believe” barely throws any hooks or punches that calling it a ‘snore-fest’ wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate. Four years ago, Santigold would walk in your door and kick-start the party into one of the best nights of your summer. Here in 2012 and Santi’s in the corner of the party with a red cup at hand, not particularly interested in socializing.

I can’t even get excited for the lead tracks: “Go!” and “Disparate Youth”. Despite their positive reception, all I’m left doing for three to four minutes is looking for something to impress me with. The weight of this album gets worse as songs begin clumping together; nothing prominent grabbing my attention or inspiring repeated listens. I wouldn’t be as indifferent or saddened had “Master of My Make-Believe” came from a newcomer artist, but this was freaking Santigold. All we’ve received is a lousy excuse of the same ingredients in “Santogold”, minus any trace of inventiveness. Here is an album destined to be bullied into the dusty corners of record stores and ignored during its week of shelf-time at Best Buy.

This album was not my dad. (3/10)

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Shame - 

As a critic, I will encounter a film like Shame and end up drowning myself in thoughts. Directed by Steve McQueen and starring Michael Fassbender, Shame is a textbook example of modern art-house cinema and an unflinching examination on addiction, more determined than any film about its subject matter.

Fassbender and McQueen previously rose to fame with their 2008 gritty masterpiece Hunger; a physically demanding and eternally frightening biopic. The two create a blend of transgressive and audacious art and the well won’t be drying out soon. For the sake of cinema, this duo needs to make a generation of films together; the two creative forces are beyond restraints of human efforts, they are immaculate. 

It’s a little ironic to define, describe or critique Shame; a film that functions through emotion and rarely words. Yes, art-house films almost always follow such an agenda. But the brute artistic force and dexterity McQueen brings with his camera lens steals the words from my tongue and, like Houdini, makes them disappear. Both of his directorial efforts leave me stunned, effected and traumatized for severe amounts of time. 

Sure, we can talk about Fassbender’s performance: his impenetrable forces put as an actor physically and cerebrally. We can bring up the undermined values of Shame: Carey Mulligan’s best career performance, ground-breaking cinematography, visual language and scene structure. We can also point out the unfathomable script the film has been built. 

But instead of technicalities, I want to bring up a question. Why do people drink black coffee? 

You might say, through the pain of the consummation, there is a new state of mind to be explored. Or maybe after a point in life, you get used to the feeling. Or perhaps one gets sick of cream and sugar; needing a kick in the head. 

I say, there is an undefinable zenith humans can reach, but fear. It comes from getting addicted to a force like black coffee. It is this zenith found in Michael Fassbender’s vexation. It’s found through Steve McQueen’s unyielding exploration of the human condition. It’s a zenith known as shame, and this film was the mirror revealing its face to us. 

(10/10)

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The Joy Formidable - The Big Roar

Aside from a close listen and a speck of enthusiasm, there’s nothing that sets U.K. band The Joy Formidable apart from any Britpop or college rock outfit floating about our airwaves lately. But look closer, there’s more than just sophisticated vocabulary in lyrics and arena-sized choruses. Much like an Arcade Fire or an early Oasis, there’s patience required for their album: The Big Roar. With their elements of post-punk and the undeniably rocking female vocals of Ritzy Bryan, The Joy Formidable are one of those aged wine concepts in music. And once you hit the day, they’ll be the only thing you’ll listen to. (7/10)

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Death Grips - The Money Store

Read My Full Review on ‘Listen Before You Buy’

[…] There are three types of people: those who listen to Death Grips, those who don’t and those who are scared shitless by them. Following up from the extremely uncompromising and vicious “Exmilitary”, Death Grips’ latest LP “The Money Store” now tackles the task of exploring their intricate style presented on “Exmilitary”. They’re moving past the brutal straightforward sonic clashes between punk and hip hop, instead offering higher levels of artistic efforts, denser material and intense abstract fury on top of the original formula. Much like an “OK Computer”or a Tom Waits record, “The Money Store” is one of those rare releases that offer an abundance of material, sonically and conceptually, enough to equally baffle and satisfy the mind. […]

(9/10)

Tycho - Dive

It’s an often under-appreciated challenge, but the hardest thing ambient artists have going for them comes in producing detailed, interesting and thematic music. Producer Scott Hansen is always playing with this notion under his project: Tycho. His latest album, “Dive,” follows suit as a successful work of ambient music loaded with bright, hypnotic sonic textures. Like on Shlohmo’s “Bad Vibes,” Tycho pairs subtle interplay between a mix of detailed layers and trance-like melodies. “Dive” is a warm, intimate and often serene work of ambience. (9/10)

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The Cabin in the Woods -

Smart and horror aren’t particularly best friends. As a matter of fact, they seldom meet and when they do, the topic of discussion becomes psychological horror; gore or sheer thrills are never front row. Then there’s “The Cabin in the Woods,” cult figure Joss Whedon’s latest masterpiece. Since the new millennia, conceptual stories in film and video games have tackled on a literal “out-of-the-box” procedure style. The digital age has a new verve which excites this generation’s sharp-minded youngsters: “What’s it like on the other side of this fiction?” Think to franchises like Portal, Assassin’s Creed or Scream, entertainment has started to take a life of it’s own without breaking the fourth wall entirely; the term “meta” comes to mind. Without giving anything away, “The Cabin in the Woods” is the pièce de résistance of this cultivating sub-genre; equals parts of post-modern hilarity, awe-inspiring creativity and lush quantities of gore. It’s hard to dance around the fact that after breaking so many rules of cinema, it’s impossible to not be impressed with “The Cabin in the Woods”; not to mention, an ending that’ll be cited for years to come. (9/10)

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Julia Holter - Ekstasis

Read My Full Review On ‘Listen Before You Buy’

[…] So let’s make sense of Julia Holter: an experimental, no, abstract pop artist from Los Angeles. Her second LP, “Ekstasis,” is a determined little bedroom pop record dying to show its guts and craftsmanship. In a style beaming with impromptu efforts constantly justifying its own sloppiness, Holter earns full marks for her diligent service by putting some structure in a spineless genre. It’s this artistic laziness that drives Holter to challenge the conventions in unconventional pop music. […]

(7/10)

Alabama Shakes - Boys & Girls

As an audiophile, it shames me to think a band like Alabama Shakes will never receive the credit they truly deserve.

The current state of mainstream culture pays attention exclusively to artists who fetishize the past only to the extent where the masses can appreciate them. Primary example: Mumford & Sons are a band who get lauded for bringing back an Americana sound to a digital generation; when, in fact, their sound is merely a superficial interpretation. Artists influenced from nostalgia are adored due to current generation’s notion of what the yesteryear sounded like. Only a snapshot memory or a stereotype come to their minds. I bet in many youngsters’ narrow field of vision, blues music was just some African-American on a Les Paul crooning about a failed romance or the Mississippi River or some crazy shit like such.

This is what makes Alabama Shakes shine brighter. Like Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, Alabama Shakes comes off more spiritually invested in their genre; unlike the run-of-the-mill indie groups who receive attention merely because they sound like the ’60s or something. With a spirit and vigor thats hard to find, Alabama Shakes’ blues-garage-rock-gone-soul debut LP, “Boys & Girls,” is unquestionably the most soulful, gutsiest album of 2012.

For “Boys & Girls”, boldness comes from its simplicity. Alabama Shakes doesn’t pack their punches with dynamic instruments, compositions or musicianship. All these components serve as a canvas for the Mona Lisa to be painted. Brittany Howard is that Mona Lisa. Two parts Ella Fitz and one part James Brown, lead singer Brittany Howard is the Mona Lisa that everyone pays their tickets for. “Boys & Girls,” in its entirety, serves as a showcase for Howard’s powerhouse ability as a singer. With every track, you’re helplessly captivated by Howard’s immediate emotional delivery. Whether its the minimalist gospel-esque gem, “Hold On,” or the vindictive ‘get down on your knees and beg the lord for mercy’ post break-up song “Heartbreaker,” Alabama Shakes feel so simple on paper, but they’re far from it.

Howard’s rollicking vocal performance speaks out against the modern image of the perfect voice. Brittany Howard is not Adele, nor could she be your next American Idol; she’s better. Howard carries her scars as trophies, vocally and emotionally speaking. Her voice is the equivalent to a vintage, decades-old guitar with a gorgeously aged tone; her vocal idiosyncrasies are embraced and used to carve out her own renditions. And because of this, anything Howard will ever put out like this will be more detailed and exciting than any other vocalist who aims for the industry standard. Both on and off the mic, Howard’s individualist spirit is a inspirational force that cannot be argued against; regardless of your thoughts about their sound.

Like the cultural service Aretha Franklin provided her generation, “Boys & Girls” is the type of album that fills your soul up with goodness. She will overwhelm you, ignite waves of goosebumps and rise eyebrows all around. One can’t say it more assuredly: Alabama Shakes is a true winner.

This album was my dad. (10/10)

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Lambchop - Mr. M

Good tension in music comes from a calculated set-up. St. Vincent’s 2011 LP “Strange Mercy” was a bipolar masterpiece; it understood how to take ugly and beautiful and sync it up for dramatic results. Through all the madness, it found something very poetic. Lambchop’s “Mr. M” falls right through the potholes in the creating process of musical tension. The album offers mouth-watering, angelic productions but pairs it up with startlingly out of place vocals by Kurt Wagner. The opening track “If Not I’ll Die,” in itself, begins masterfully with a picaresque string and mild-mannered drum accompaniment and then you hear a 54-year-old alt-country singer oddly deliver the lyric “Don’t know what the fuck they talk about.” Listening to this album brings the same uncomfortable feeling of walking in shoes several sizes smaller than yours. Despite its passive-aggressive deliberations, “Mr. M” results as an unorthodox experience that baffles the mind trying to find the beauty in this confusion. (5/10)

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THEESatisfaction - awE naturalE

Like Shabazz Palaces was to hip-hop, THEESatisfaction is an experimental R&B group that offers the same verve and innovation to their genre. Hell, the two groups have more ties together than you’d think. THEESatisfaction featured on Shabazz’s 2011 LP “Black Up” and Shabazz is found on this album too. So think of “awE naturalE” as a sequel to “Black Up” in a slightly different genre, a different set of tools and respective intentions.  a restrained, undeniably peppy and devious serving of neo-soul. From the killer jam, “Queens,” to the brooding “Enchantruss,” if there isn’t a moment on “awE naturalE” that makes you ache for more progressive to happen with R&B, you probably skipped over it. (8/10)

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