That's My Dad.

Justin Timberlake - The 20/20 Experience

Justin Timberlake is one of probably five pop singers that equally satisfies the desperate romantic and sonic perfectionist in me. With his god-like confidence, wearing suits for no reason, he charmingly compares women to spaceships and fruity bubblegum; Justin Timberlake is the king of making me feel like I just hit puberty and I can win over the heart of any woman I desire. Returning from the chart-topping, hit-churning 2006 record FutureSex/LoveSounds,we’re again graced with the presence of an American entertainment renaissance man with the momentously-released, grandly-produced and expectedly ambitious The 20/20 Experience.

Read My Whole Review on Listen Before You Buy

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Bat for Lashes - The Haunted Man

U.K. indie pop queen Natasha Khan returns as Bat for Lashes with an emotionally stunning 3rd LP, “The Haunted Man”: a breath-taking baroque pop record sculpted from some of the most mature, detailed and innovative musicianship and dramatic potency we’ve heard from Khan as well any other poet this year. (8/10) 

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AlunaGeorge - You Know You Like It 

A posh, trippy and intelligible 3-track UK electro-pop/R&B infused EP that keeps its song-writing wits about with rows of lavish, original beats around to keep company. (6/10)

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Top 50 Songs of 2012: #30, Jessie Ware - Running

I’m ready to run, ready to fall, I think I’m ready to lose it all. 

In a year of emerging R&B sophisticates with the Lana Del Rey’s and the Abel Tesfaye’s taking over the independent and mainstream media by storm, it was Jessie Ware who stole my heart and vote for the best new female vocalist in her genre. The UK singer-songwriter come with no frills to deliver immaculately constructed and almost minimalist pop songs with a serious level of mystique that could be matched with a Vogue photo-shoot. Wearing her Janet Jackson and Mary J. Blige influences on her sleeve alongside her modern gloss on old-school R&B production techniques, “Running” is a slick effort in coolly displaying Ware’s fresh style without even packing any punches.

Top 50 Songs of 2012: #32, Fiona Apple - Every Single Night

The rib is the shell and the heart is the yolk and I just made a meal for us both to choke on.

After seven pain-staking years, one of the most eccentric and idiosyncratic female singer-songwriters returns on their 4th LP: “The Idler Wheel is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do”. And on Fiona Apple’s latest work, we’re compelled to believe in Apple’s eternal abilities as a poet and as a remarkable emotional meltdown, ready to slip and crack upon a moment’s notice. On it’s own, “Every Single Night” accentuates nearly every trademark quality of Apple’s lyrical, vocal, pop and instrumental style and plays out like her crown jewel single. It’s like the first stepping stone into the rest of Apple’s erratic, debasing and, otherwise, fucked up repressed love stories she’s been collecting (or concocting) in the last few years on “The Idler Wheel…”. Expect to be equally enchanted and emotionally inflicted.  

Top 50 Songs of 2012: #46, Fun. - Some Nights (Intro.)

Have you listened to me lately? I’ve been fucking crazy!

I make absolutely no apologies for hating Fun’s latest album, “Some Nights”. As a major fan of Fun’s debut indie pop masterpiece “Aim and Ignite” along with their past projects such as The Format and Steel Train, any misstep from the group’s roomy comfort zone would have been wholly unnecessary; after all, it’s not like Queen got up and attempted a psychedelic rock or metal record in the ’70s. As forecasted, Fun’s take on hip-hop and radio-friendly pop gutted the band’s high-strung theatrics and staggeringly heartbreaking lyrics into something entirely watered down. On first listen, however, the opening track “Some Nights (Intro.)” plays as a stunning and gleefully eccentric continuation of Fun’s past work; even if it was the best red herring of the year. 

Jessie Ware - Devotion

Sexy, dreamily mature and pure in sophistication, latest rise-to-fame contemporary R&B singer-songwriter Jessie Ware hits the underground UK pop scene with a satisfying slow-burner debut record, “Devotion”: an alluring work of love more enticing than Janet Jackson, smarter than Lana Del Ray and as emotionally effective as James Blake. (8/10)

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Royal Headache - Royal Headache

Über lo-fi pop meets exciting garage punk rock, did I mention they’re Australian? Meet Royal Headache: the next pleasant surprise for listeners too senstive or sick of Keith Morris or in need of something more soulful and thrashy. (8/10)

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Regina Spektor - What We Saw From the Cheap Seats

Come at last a return to quirky form for beloved indie piano-ballad queen Regina Spektor, “What We Saw From the Cheap Seats” brings the glistening, uncanny poetry and beguiling emotional musings known on classic Spektor records like “Soviet Kitsch” and “Begin to Hope”. But after a decade of being the youthful charmer in the anti-folk scene, age tends to take a toll on an artist’s bank of ideas and song-writing skill. The opening three songs (“Small Town Moon”, “Oh Marcello” and “Don’t Leave Me”) recall her nearly forgotten trademark ability to make eclectic and unorthodox pop tunes. Even tracks like “Firewood” and “Jessica” are undeniably captivating and relaxing ballads with solemn charm and illustrative lyrics. The other half of the album and a handful of her bizarre sonic experiments and arrangements result unsuccessfully. Much of what makes this an incomplete record come from lack of innovation. Even on more proper moments like tracks “How” and “The Party”, Spektor poorly treats her compositions with nearly forced and gimmicky emotion, leaving the songs to be inevitably pigeon-holed as uninspired rubbish. It’s hard to appreciate “What We Saw From the Cheap Seats” as a whole; even for its inconsistencies, Spektor’s musical abilities lack her youthful finesse and high-ranged song-writing chops. (6/10)

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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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Norah Jones - Little Broken Hearts

It kind of sucks that Norah Jones consistently remains overshadowed by the success of her 2002 Grammy-winning debut jazz masterpiece: “Come Away With Me.” Hard to think but a whole decade has past and Norah has come out four albums, each of which successfully collected dust on the shelves of every Starbucks and Barnes & Noble nationwide. This is not to say Norah, post-2002, took a nosedive and started making atrocious music; it’s just that she seemed to be the only person who thought moving away from jazz was remotely a good idea. Since then, she’s quietly transcended into a more down-tempo pop style that lacked any repeat value and served as a textbook example of sub-par art.

Alas, let bygones be bygones, it’s 2012 and she’s here with her 5th album: “Little Broken Hearts,” a full-fledged singer-songwriter based pop album that makes no apologies about it’s identity. Produced by the marvelous Danger Mouse and heavily echoing the style of their previous collaboration on the album “Rome,” it’s clear Norah’s given her blandish efforts a much needed kick in the head. “Little Broken Hearts” is not “Come Away From Me” however; far from it really. This is a mild, dark and bitter record that requires your attention for it’s charm to come near. Each track comes packed with a catchy, honey-sweet hook, retro-pop sounds and a new element or texture to Norah’s voice; features that win you over, shooing away clouds of past negative proclivities about Norah. ”Little Broken Hearts” might not leave much of a heavy impression like Norah’s previous three albums, but it’s nice to see her fully realized in her new directions; call it a glimmer of hope in a former legend. (7/10)

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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)

Pepe Deluxe - Queen of the Wave

While it suffers of having the repeat value of an episode of a shitty soap opera, Pepe Deluxe’s Queen of the Wave earns full marks as a bombastic psychedelic baroque pop opera gone absolutely fucking nuts. If melismatic, esoteric or eclectic music is your style; put away those prog-rock records and meet your new best friend. (9/10)

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Bruce Springsteen - Wrecking Ball

At age 62, Bruce Springsteen is back with another installment of his high-voltage American spirit on his 17th album: Wrecking Ball. And while Springsteen’s efforts, both as a musician and storyteller, come off stronger than ever, Wrecking Ball remains feeling just like the label says: another installment. As per usual, Springsteen soars with his brave, political arena-sized rock jams. His quieter moments on the album shine a brighter light on his gorgeous song-writing methods and unforgettable spirit of nostalgia. And he proudly embraces all traditional American music influences, from country to hip-hop, and wears them like an array of badges on a Boys Scout uniform. Springsteen’s pride and messages are bolder than ever, yet a taint of the all-too-similar ‘meat and potatoes’ formula in this otherwise socially austere record leaves much to be desired. (6/10)

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Young Magic - Melt

You remember that moment. The headphones are in, expectations are unknown. Then it begins. It’s the instance you meet your new favorite band. A single moment in time that deserves to be romanticized. Sonic gems can invoke some of the most satisfying sensations.

There’s something about Young Magic: a dreamy experimental electronic gone heavily psychedelic group from Brooklyn. Think if a hipper, more tropical Animal Collective, Yeasayer and a more straight-forward Flying Lotus joined forces. Their debut release, Melt, serves as a quality entrée to what Young Magic’s audio vision sounds like: a smart, boogie-worthy cultural chill-wave party where you’re always the guest of honor.

Young Magic’s Melt is one of those albums in the endless score of experimental music that deserves to be mused over. It has the potential to be your new best friend, if you’re all about that psychedelic lifestyle, and quite possibly, your new favorite band.

This album was my dad. (8/10)

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