Pop 'stache

Since Stereolab have been on an “indefinite hiatus” since 2009, the closest thing their loyal fans are likely to receive from the band’s camp is a record from their nominal lead singer Laetitia Sadier.  But just like her solo debut, 2010’s The Trip, and perhaps even more so, this is not a Stereolab record.  Sure, there are occasional electronic flourishes and injections of their trademark busy, caffeine-addled rhythmic intricacy throughout, but this is clearly Sadier’s show.  The focus is on the French chanteuse’s unaffected but gorgeous mezzo-soprano and with few exceptions, the instrumentation and percussion is minimal to a fault.

Lyrically, Sadier covers quite a few bases.  On her meditation on the “tyranny of money,” “Auscultation to the Nation,” she wonders: “Who are these people, and why on earth do we care about their opinions?”  Dismissing the authority of the banking industry and organizations like the G20, she argues that “we want a real democracy” before the bare-bones track concludes in a cacophony of static.

Unlike its minimalist predecessor, the following song, “There is a Price to Pay for Freedom (and it isn’t Security)  is cloaked in lush strings and anthemic instrumentation, but she continues to make her political perspective clear (or at least attempts to), with lines like:  “follower of conformity that we do identify with a reflection in merchandise.”  OK, so this is not exactly lyrical poetry, but the swelling and rich musical tapestry almost lets her get away with it.

Under “about the record” on her label’s website, Drag City, it says simply:  It’s 2012 — do you know where your government is tonight? Occupy yourselves — and let’s get busy with the music in our minds.”  So it’s clear that Sadier is trying to bridge the collective mindset with individual minds.  Perhaps she’s picking up the gauntlet left to rust by the break-up of anarcho-pop group Chumbawamba.

From the political back to the personal,  “Moi Sans Zach,” (“Me Without Zach”) is sung entirely in French, and despite the fact that the only French I know is “please,” “hello,” “goodbye” and where is the toilet?,” this seems to be a far more personal meditation, spoken over a musical bed borrowed from “The Girl From Ipanema.”  Her conclusion?  Apparently that it’s “complex.”

By contrast, as one might imagine from the title, “Between Earth And Heaven” is far more musically ambitious, although it still mines that Latin American vibe.  Sadier successfully melds the abstract with the specific on this number and the next, “Lightning Bolt.”

On Silencio, a big plus is the dynamic pacing.  Just when the record seems to be nodding off in a somnambulant haze, an invigorating and propulsive track comes up in the running order, like the (comparatively) rocketing “Fragment pour le future de l’homme” (which is sung in English, its title notwithstanding).  In fact, if there’s any criticism to be leveled at this record, it might be that it’s too fragmented.  When listened to in its entirety, it comes across as a hop-scotch of sorts, but that doesn’t mean it’s not an enjoyable exercise.  It’s so scattershot, in fact, that when a track like “Merci de m’avoir donné la vie” is allowed to expand and grow, it’s a welcome mechanism.  It’s also helpful that Sadier alternates songs sung/spoken in her native French with those rendered in English, so as to mix things up a bit.

It’s easy to imagine seeing these songs performed on a small stage in a smoke-filled club in Morocco in some anonymous film noir.

On the concluding track, “Invitation au Silence,” she shares a revelation that came to her in a church in the south of France.  Her spoken word introduction is translated partially as “churches have remarkable acoustics; even silence can swell and be amplified.”  Sadier invites her audience to “sample some silence in this St. Blaise church . . . Listen how resonant with truth silence is.”  With that, the last ninety seconds or so is indeed complete silence, with the occasional ambient noise to be heard in the background.  While given the title, it might seem to be an appropriate introduction to Silencio, in fact it provides the perfect conclusion, and bookends the music with an appropriately meditative coda.  Laetitia Sadier is trafficking in what she defines as truth, and the end result is an enjoyable if highly varied experience.

Laetitia Saedier – Silencio tracklist:

1. “The Rule of the Game”
2. “Find Me the Pulse of the Universe”
3. “Silent Spot”
4. “Auscultation to the Nation”
5. “There Is a Price to Pay for Freedom (and It Isn’t Security)”
6. “Moi Sans Zach”
7. “Between Earth and Heaven”
8. “Lightning Thunderbolt”
9. “Fragment pour le future de l’homme”
10. “Merci de m’avoir donné la vie”
11. “Next Time You See Me”
12. “Invitation au silence”

“I wanted to create worlds that were rosier than mine.” – frankocean.com

Frank Ocean’s debut solo album, channel ORANGE, was officially released on July 17th, 2012. Sexy ebb and flow are guaranteed from Ocean, who at the age of 24 has already written music for Beyoncé, Brandy and John Legend. After joining LA hip hop collective OFWGKTA (Odd Future) in 2009, Ocean began to refine his writing and develop his own career. He independently released the mixtape Nostalgia, ULTRA. in 2011, which saw cult-acclaim and peer recognition by industry giants Kanye West and Jay-Z. channel ORANGE is a much more personal album; if we choose to see his music as a development from craft to artistry, Ocean is shamelessly carving his own R&B style with this release.

Every track on the album spruces a different feel. “Thinkin Bout You” introduces a smooth and crisp beat with Ocean’s slow and pretty falsetto voice. It echos the minimal R&B tones that How to Dress Well and The Weeknd introduced to our post-90′s generation. Subdued synth and bass with interludes of snare develop into a consistent hip hop sound, but Ocean still enjoys singing more than he does rapping. Listen to another ballad “Bad Religion” as he addresses a belief system that doesn’t support homosexuality, or “a bad religion”: ”This unrequited love to me, it’s nothing but a one man cult, and cyanide in my styrofoam cup, I could never make him love me, never make him love me.” His songs are flaring with visuals and stories, his lyrics often flow with chills like poetry.

Finally hearing from Passion Pit this year comes as a relief, as the wait from 2009’s Manners had us growing impatient.

With that being said, a follow-up to Manners was highly anticipated, whatever it could bring. New content was exciting, and it held up quite nicely under the microscope of critics’ expectations. Though obviously not flawless, Gossamer is a hit record. The energy from both albums leading up to it clearly propelled the right energy to move forward in the right direction.

As the saying goes, “if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.” This is what the band stuck with entirely in the process of their new album. The way Chunk Of Change and Manners jived with a certain demographic, whether broad or precise, and this was not to be messed with. Gossamer’s concept was Passion Pit’s only way of challenging themselves, since no landscape could’ve been drawn twice in the same way. Some evolution and precision is encouraged, too.

Exhibit A, here, is lead song “Take a Walk.” Its heavy, pulsating beat and happy-go-lucky synth hook bring together indie gold and pop indulgence, drive its likeability factor through the roof and create a very inviting energy for the start of an album. Even the words contain real wisdom, talking of a broader perspective that challenges narrow-mindedness. It’s both fun and inspiring, which is a difficult combination to master.

What gets lost in the middle is, well, the stuff in the middle. Certain songs stick out while others fall in the cracks and don’t get noticed. The strong stay closest to memory but the less pronounced are overlooked. “Cry Like A Ghost” is somewhat soulful meanwhile imaginative. Classic Passion Pit is brought to life in “It’s Not My Fault, I’m Happy” with chanting and harmonized vocals. These are great, but other unmentionables are left to dust.

Gossamer, though conceptually on point, trades the plentiful odd high-pitched noises heard in previous “Sleepyhead” for a more melodic tone. Though the makeup of each song is still incredibly individualistic and true to the band’s sound, the band took advantage of their growth as songwriters and placed more focus in the content, leaving behind part of the general awe that draws outsiders to their music.

It’s really cool to listen to the broken down point of view of the band, too, where this “Constant Conversations” chooses to whisper instead of holler, finding harmonies in the background to accompany the melancholy bliss. For seemingly the first time, Passion Pit found beauty in their breakdown. It sounded unbelievable, knowing that their hit song “Sleepyhead” was nearly yelling when played at a normal volume. And who said a mastering of this slower sound wasn’t possible?

With each conglomerate that makes up a single song, there are traces of a plethora of genres within each electro-pop disco track we hear. Slower “Constant Conversations” borrows from a R&B beat with more soulful sounds carrying the background while more hard-rocking songs give way to alternative influences. Never knowing what will come next is part of the appeal for a real fan of this band, and Gossamer never lets up in revealing a surprise at the round of a corner.

 Passion Pit – Gossamer tracklist:

1. “Take a Walk”
2. “I’ll Be Alright”
3. “Carried Away”
4. “Constant Conversations”
5. “Mirrored Sea”
6. “Cry Like a Ghost”
7. “On My Way”
8. “Hideaway”
9. “Two Veils to Hide My Face”
10. “Love Is Greed”
11. “It’s Not My Fault, I’m Happy”
12. “Where We Belong”

Stagnation (noun): 1.) The state or condition of stagnating, or having stopped, as by ceasing to run or flow. 2.) a foulness or staleness, as one emanating from a standing pool of water. 3.) a failure to develop, progress or advance.

See also: The death of any band.

Ty Segall Band’s Slaughterhouse begins with “Death,” and a squealing guitar squall at the beginning makes the listener wonder what they’ve gotten themselves into. But after such a chaotic beginning, Segall’s tenor signals a turn toward a linear (if still loud) 60’s Nuggets-style groove. Segall’s periodic screams notwithstanding, the rest of the track is much more of an easy listen, but that’s not to say that it doesn’t rock.

His ensemble has recently landed a plum assignment playing with Japandroids at Lincoln Hall in a “Sound Opinions” live show on the eve of the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago, leading one to wonder, who is Ty Segall, and what’s up with his band?

After spinning just the first few tracks, it’s not a surprise to learn that one of this San Franciscan’s many bands, Party Fowl contributed a cover of GG Allin’s “Die When You Die” to the Husk Records tribute Scum Fuck Revolt, nor is it a surprise that he’s a collaborator with fellow Bay Area spacey denizens Sic Alps, whose twisted garage rock psychedelia has blown up quite a few skirts in recent years, nor that another one of his bands is called The Perverts (two of whom play on this record, and share a common musical interbreeding with Epsilons and Charlie and The Moonhearts).

Segall told Canada’s Exclaim! that he wanted to “do a total glam Stooges-meets-Hawkwind or Sabbath, something like that. I think that would be super fun. I want to throw people off. I want to make a really heavy record: evil, evil space rock. Put a little Satan in space and you got the sound. Hawkwind’s ‘Silver Machine’ meets Sabbath’s ‘N.I.B.’ meets Hawkwind’s ‘Master of the Universe.’”

There’s only Hawkwind here in terms of the echoey spaciousness, but Segall, along with his bandmates Emily Rose Epstein on drums, Charles Moothart on guitar and Mikal Cronin on bass guitar and backing vocals, has the Stooges/Sabbath/Satan trinity down pat, for sure. There’s not a lot of interstellar space here, but there’s plenty of planet evil, as if he’s saying, “Yes, Blue Oyster Cult were wrong, actually, you should fear the reaper.”

Having said that, it’s framed in such a quaint sixties/Sonics framework, that it can’t help but be charming, invigorating and . . . well, downright groovy, a word which the sweaty, scuzzy Segall most likely despises with a passion. There’s also the spiraling psychedelic shredwork reminiscent of the likeminded subterranean garage dwellers of Chicago like Outer Minds and Verma.

On the title track, Segal’s screams are reminiscent of the late lamented Jay Reatard, although far more blood-curdling. You’ve have to go back to The Beatles’ White Album to hear a scream so disturbing; it’s downright Munchian. “It’s all for you,” he sings on “The Tongue,” and whatever “it” is does not sound that pleasant, unless he’s referring to pleasuring his girlfriend, and even that sounds like the promise of riding the roughness of a tiger’s tongue.

The squall at the beginning proves to be a portentous moment, as the chaos is back in spades on the lengthy, ambitious concluding cut “Fuzz War,” and with the beautiful tunes and engaging hooks sandwiched in the middle of these slices of jagged sawblades, the motif proves to be a microcosm of Slaughterhouse as a whole.

After more than a few spins in ye olde mp3 player, it’s easy to picture this quartet rocking out in a dark basement somewhere in hell, amidst perspiring black walls and watching fountains of blood gushing from the ears of a jubilant crowd.

Tracklisting:

1. Death 4:26
2. I Bought My Eyes 3:46
3. Slaughterhouse 1:35
4. The Tongue 2:41
5. Tell Me What’s Inside Your Heart 3:41
6. Wave Goodbye 4:33
7. Muscle Man 1:31
8. The Bag I’m In 2:45
9. Diddy Wah Diddy 2:24
10. Oh Mary 1:37
11. Fuzz War 10:23

Twin Shadow, the Brooklyn-based new-wave artist groundly known as George Lewis Jr, releases his second studio album Confess (4AD) on July 10th. Apparently this album was inspired by Lewis Jr’s motorcycle rides in Los Angeles after a long hiatus following an accident. Twin Shadow’s debut album, Forget, saw supreme success in 2010, and although this follow-up doesn’t disappoint, it lacks many elements necessary to pierce through ears collecting vast amounts of music.

Over the past 5-odd years, brushing 1980’s synth-pop has been redubbed as “dream pop,” a term that fits a new generation – with more prominent bass though, please. Twin Shadow makes this adjustment, which differentiates him from fellow dream-poppers Beach House and Youth Lagoon (among other things too). Generally these bands set well to daydreaming, nostalgic contemplations, inspirations and revelations.

Confess instead struts the drums of Phil Collins, the synths of Journey and the voices of Robert Smith and Morrissey. It offers layers and fairly complex arrangements, opening strong with “Golden Light” and following with a crowded “You Can Call Me On.” The third track “Five Seconds” was released early alongside a music video of Lewis riding his motorcycle and brawling in the forest. It’s a strikingly beautiful raw clip, based on Lewis Jr’s own novel “Night of the Silver Sun.” Lewis is certainly creating something awesome with this track, and thanks to the soundtrack of Drive, his popularity is most likely received by a wider audience.

As for the remaining seven tracks on Confess, the style format continues at level, but more noticeably each track blends together in a continuous habit of polite progressions; echoing synth, prominent drums, poppy vocals, double-step beats, repeat. “I Don’t Care” is an exception, with its refreshing tribal grunt beats over Lewis’s ballad voice. This song displays an ingenuity that Lewis Jr. seemed to have misplaced over majority of the album’s arrangement. “Be Mine Tonight” features a bonus track entitled “Mirror in the Dark,” which is equally as lovestruck, closing the album with a sexier, more intimate finish.

This is by no means a bad or even unsatisfactory album. The production is superb and the aforementioned components are upbeat, interesting and current. Although the tracks can be enjoyed and praised for these qualities, the album as a whole seems to be lacking the edge that’s necessary to stand out among the masses of new wave/electro-pop musicians. Confess is solid but not shining; wet but not juicy. Perhaps the high-production sound of the tracks cramped an original George Lewis Jr. charm. Maybe he’s waiting for the inspiration to produce an entirely unique album. Whatever the case, Confess is a solid listen, as long as you’re not expecting too many stand-out singles or musical leaps.

Twin Shadow – Confess tracklist:

1. “Golden Light”
2. “You Can Call Me On”
3. “Five Seconds”
4. “Run My Heart”
5. “The One”
6. “Beg for the Night”
7. “Patient”
8. “When the Movie’s Over”
9. “I Don’t Care”
10. “Be Mine Tonight”

From the first triumphant moments of Stepdad’s debut album, Wildlife Pop, it’s clear that this album going to be blaring out of people’s car windows all summer long.

The Grand Rapids-based electro-pop group first appeared on the scene with their self-produced EP Ordinaire. The sheer catchiness of singles like “My Leather, My Fur, My Nails,” caught the attention of Chris Zane, so the group traveled to New York to record their first full length. Wildlife Pop came out on Black Bell Records on June 12.  The album stays true to the sound of Ordinaire, further establishing and expanding on that distinctly Stepdad sound: layers of synth, bombastic choruses, and lots of falsetto.

The English language doesn’t contain words grand enough to describe the first track, “Must Land Running.” The sheer bliss of the initial keyboard arpeggiation is breathtaking. By the end, a veritable choir led by lead singer ultramark’s falsetto reverberates as if across an open field, supported by layers of synths and echoing beats.

A reworked version of “My Leather, My Fur, My Nails,” marks another highlight of the album. This song is an example of one of the few perfect songs that exist in the world today. Just try not to sing along to it. It’s a party-pop anthem, marked by the fact that Stepdad toured for the likes of Passion Pit and Fitz and the Tantrums off of the strength of the single.

All the songs follow suit with soaring synth, fantastic falsetto, and some birds chirping (“Treasure Hugs”). The brilliance of all of this is that Stepdad isn’t trying to be anything they’re not. That’s what makes this a great album. It’s not particularly cerebral or groundbreaking and mind-blowing. It’s catchy pop, plain and simple, and it’s a hell of a lot of fun.

Not all of the songs on Wildlife Pop are as euphoric as “Must Land Running,” or “My Leather, My Fur, My Nails,” (in fact, “Pick and Choose” gets a bit too precious for me on the choruses) but it doesn’t really matter. It’s still an album worth listening to front to back, and dancing to all night long.

Welcome to summer.

Stepdad – Wildlife Pop tracklist:

1. “Must Land Running”
2. “Jungles”
3. “Show Me Your Blood”
4. “Mystery in the Faking”
5. “Will I Ever Dance Again”
6. “To Ribbons”
7. “My Leather, My Fur, My Nails”
8. “Pick & Choose”
9. “Starfriends On Earth”
10. “Treasure Hugs”
11. “Exploring”
12. “Warrior (Jungles, Pt. 2)”

Hip-hop is too often tied to its own hegemonic and violent self-definition, so that innovation becomes taboo. But the number of hip-hop artists, even mainstream, who have managed to do nothing but chest-thump are slowly waning from relevance . Meanwhile those unafraid to be weird (Lil’ B), emotional (Kid Cudi), feminine (Danny Brown), spacy (El-P), foppish (Theophilus London), or take a jackhammer to the wall itself (Kanye West) are ripping headlines and changing the way we think about the genre. Big K.R.I.T. is unique in that he’s garnered respect from both camps–the ruling order and the innovative maniacs, a balancing act that, for the time being, gives him unlimited possibility.

The songs alone can’t carry the album. It’s storytelling, undertaken with a stunning array of rhymes and confessional stanzas–while touching on a series of different memories, sensations and hopes–coming back to a unified arc. He goes from obscurity to “A&Rville”, violence and hatred to love and acceptance.  If K.R.I.T. did sell-out, hell, at least he’s got better equipment now. Live From The Underground is steeped in humid and rich production. It has that back porch, Mississippi night air to it, a soulful testament the likes of which hasn’t been heard since the Delta Blues. “Praying Man,” featuring B.B. King and his weeping Lucille, is a first-person account of  an African slave escaping his chains–drawing the album’s parallel to another underground journey for freedom.

When it comes to presence, K.R.I.T. is all over this one–he’s one of few able-bodied producer/rappers in the game and does both no holds barred. What’s remarkable about his dense flow is that, peeling it apart, there’s nothing unripe. The twenty-five year old is notorious for his work ethic and Live From The Underground is exactingly crafted, at least in verse. In “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” a meditation on his upbringing he reminsces, “I remember when I fell from my first bike/ There were no ‘Are you okays’ and rarely ‘Are you alrights’/ Just dirt in my pockets, handful of gravel/ That’s when I realized that getting up is only half the battle”   Houston chop-and screw beats, not trap, some 808s– K.R.I.T.’s style, like his hometown, represents a precise midpoint between Houston and Atlanta. His heroes are as much Bun B (who makes a superb cameo on ‘Pull Up’) as they are Outkast and Ludacris. While his independent mixtapes, the 4eva series, are brilliant, one has to wonder if these big-name collaborations would have been possible had he not ventured into the land of mainstream.

What prevents Live From The Underground from being a classic (this is not to say that it’s by any means a weak debut) are the same elements that would mean salvation for lesser rappers: club bangers, dull hooks and leaning on guests who may or may not carry their weight (looking at you, 2 Chainz)–weapons of the generic. Like “If I Fall,” which touts a supreme piano hook with the young Melanie Fiona sounding pretty but saying little. “Money on the Floor” other than its great bass line, is an ordinary strip-club anthem. “My Sub, Pt. 2” is K.R.I.T.’s way of dealing with scorn, his signature mix of flossing and self-deprecation, “I still got my sub, hoe.”

Live From the Underground may be an album greater than the sum of its parts but its ambition and calling cannot be ignored. Judging by his namesake, the album’s success doesn’t matter to K.R.I.T., time is on his side.

Big K.R.I.T. – Live from the Underground tracklist:

1. “LFU300MA (Intro)”
2. “Live From The Underground”
3. “Cool 3 Be Southern”
4. “I Got This”
5. “Money on the Floor”
6. “What U Mean”
7. “My Sub (Pt. 2: The Jackin’)”
8. “Don’t Let Me Down”
9. “Porchlight”
10. “Pull Up”
11. “Yeah Dats Me”
12. “Hydroplaning”
13. “If I Fall”
14. “Rich Dad, Poor Dad”
15. “Praying Man”
16. “Live From The Underground (Reprise)”

Traps is Jaill’s second release on Sub Pop after 2010′s That’s How We Burn and their third record as a band.  Their first album, There’s No Sky (Oh My My), was released on Burger Records as Jail.  Apparently Sub Pop forced them to change their name as there was a European band named Jail years ago. Nirvana never had to change their name when they signed to the majors.  Oh well…Nirvanaa sounds awkward.

Jaill has had a revolving door of members since their formation in 2003.  The current line-up consists of Vinnie Kircher, Austin Dutmer and Andrew Harris.  Jaill’s sound is a fuzzy, campy take on early 80′s power pop.  Like a handful of cult-status bands, they self-consciously celebrate the dweeby pop wallflower.  Basically, jangle-dorks.

If everyone was hip on That’s How We Burn, “Everyone’s a Bitch” on Traps.  On this track, Kircher cries: “‘What if I stay just on one side?’  Then she calls me ‘vanilla sex life.’  Didn’t know she wanted rocky road.”  It’s incredibly corny, but it may elicit a chortle the first couple of times through…0r more.  It’s one of those hate-to-love anthems.  Kircher goes on to aggressively challenge “friends of foes” and one can only picture the drunken nerd who’s ready to throw down at a bar after a few too many PBRs

The strongest track on the albums is “Perfect Ten” and is also the most heavily weighted in glam and 60′s pop/rock.  The dorky narrator who has slipped into the ‘friend zone’ wonders if he might be admitted back into his best female friend’s life as a lover.  Picture Marc Bolan wearing safety glasses.  The brief, warbling solo achieves more than others on the album.

“House with Haunting” sounds like a combination of Chutes Too Narrow-era Shins and The Unicorns, except not quite as catchy as either artist on their game.  A pathetic dude losing his girl to a ghost who “listens closely” is humorous, though.  “Madness” is simply maddening.  “Million Times” fails to be of interest for half of its short duration and then assumes a Flaming Lips-esque bass-heavy groove which is too little too late.

“While You Reload” begins with an Is This It? Strokes drum beat before Kircher’s wry lament, “Gave myself a good grade for barely losing my shit.”  The image of an emotional martyr who shoots high waiting to be shot down works well enough.  The dog metaphor is extraneous and the abrupt, ‘nail-clipping’ outtro almost kills an otherwise snappy song.  “Stone Froze Mascot” is charged boredom.

The album does have its moments of cleverness and snaring hooks proving Jaill’s songwriting capabilities both lyrically and musically, but it’s more of a pleasant album to zone out to.  A better name for the album might be Mine Field, which is a trap in a sense; a carefree moment of pop bliss can be destroyed by stumbling onto a minor bomb a track later.

Jaill – Traps tracklist:

1. “Waste a Lot of Things”
2. “Everyone’s a Bitch”
3. “Perfect Ten”
4. “Horrible Things (Make Pretty Songs)”
5. “I’m Home”
6. “House with Haunting”
7. “Madness”
8. “Million Times”
9. “Ten Teardrops”
10. “While You Reload”
11. “Stone Froze Mascot”

“I want you to know how I feel. Acknowledge me.”

These are the words of Fiona Apple, said during an iTunes Originals session to describe her method of writing letters to her parents whenever she felt she was being cast aside and tangentially sum up the theme for Apple’s third record, Extraordinary Machine. More than that, however, Apple seems to be hitting at something universal about her music, a reason for why her airing her inner battles on albums have become such a fascinating facet of the female pop agenda. Apple has rarely, if ever, written a straight love song. Her poetry is punctuated by a manic depression spilled out unusually neatly across plaintive, jazz-tinged female blues. In her seventeen (?!) year, three album (?!?!?!) career up until this point, fans have been allowed to dissect her schizophrenic descent into mania to death. Her oeuvre is not one to be taken lightly, so the likelihood of Apple’s comeback being as poignant and powerful as her new album, The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Ripping Cords Will Serve You More than Ropes Will Ever Do, is makes the accomplishment all the more stultifying.

While Jon Brion’s version of Extraordinary Machine may have yielded different cultural results, even if it wasn’t markedly different from the actual finished product, The Idler Wheel is a comment on how, for nearly nine years, every conceivable producer, from Andrew Slater to Mike Elizondo to the inimitable Brion, completely misinterpreted the proper way to surround Fiona Apple’s wounded and gorgeous voice. The Idler Wheel, and producer Charley Drayton (not coincidentally Apple’s touring drummer), solve this riddle simply: percussion, lots of it in constantly gestating states of syncopation. The jaunty “Periphery” is filled out with scrapes and scratches acting as a steadying tempo and perfect complement to Apple’s piano riffing. “Daredevil” is all skitter and brush, “Hot Knife” is big ass tympani, and “Anything We Want” is a jazz drummer banging a spoon on kitchen instruments. Unadorned yet anything but simple, Idler Wheel makes a pretty, propulsive thing out of what used to be distraction or baroque genre-isms. What was once a producer adding to his resumé now plays more as setting the table for a master singer-songwriter.

Which is, of course, what Fiona Apple has always been. It’s not as if Apple is doing unprecedented things – female artists for the past seventeen years have pushed themselves to the point of inane over-rhyme trying to emulate Apple’s naturalistic poetry. “Werewolf” almost trends too much towards cute metaphors until Apple buries her competition with a wallop of a line: “But we can still support each other / all we’ve gotta do’s avoid each other / nothin’ wrong when a song ends in the minor key.” Her struggles, here especially, seem closer at hand than anybody else who tries to get intimate with their verse. Perhaps it’s her voice; “Valentine,” for it’s first eighty seconds, is carried by Apple’s calm barroom croon, one of her stronger vocal suits. In any other hand, “I stared at you and cut myself” is dangerously close to emo. In Apple’s throat, it’s dangerously close to too beautiful.

But the best parts of The Idler Wheel come when Apple loses it. “Left Alone” is a sprint of a number, but for twenty seconds as a refrain Fiona Apple descends into vocal histrionics any other human would kill to have in their wheelhouse. Anger induced callousness, miraculous high falsetto, a free fall downward into the bar, then a burrowing into hell with “when all I do is beg to be left alone.” She does the same thing on “Regret,” running her cords raw just to repeat her most important line. As she finishes her percussion comes in to bring her back from the edge, but never gets in the way of her getting there.

Perhaps the difference between The Idler Wheel and Apple’s previous records is in her realization of when to let the animal that has gotten herself into these situations she sings about out. Apple off the leash seems like a particularly scary theme for a comeback record, but it turns out it’s that vital burst of emotion was exactly what her confidently intelligent poetry needed. Her self-deprecation comes through more solidly. Her sorrow is apparent, even on the singles. Watch her performance of “Anything We Want” on Late Night With Jimmy Fallon and maybe you’ll see those tears forming in Apple’s eyes. Apple has always excelled at carrying through her emotional fragility on stage – the miracle of The Idler Wheel is that ready to break intimacy is right in your headphones.

Fiona Apple – The Idler Wheel tracklist:

1. “Every Single Night”
2. “Daredevil”
3. “Valentine”
4. “Jonathan”
5. “Left Alone”
6. “Werewolf”
7. “Periphery”
8. “Regret”
9. “Anything We Want”
10. “Hot Knife”

When The Morning Benders decided to do a bit of a 180, it didn’t come without its tornado of drama. Remember the band who sang folksy rhythms with light production elements? Well, they’re no more, and whether you like it or not, they’re cheating on your favorite genre. And their ex-genre is pissed off!

POP ETC, the band formerly known as The Morning Benders, clearly plays off their new name, working together a sort of unfinished indie vibe with selective spins on pop and rock n’ roll here and there. This tactic has left all options open for their expressiveness with their rather nondescript label for themselves, though it has fans on either spectrum in a hissy fit.

The Brooklyn trio, though, found a medium to make music in a completely different direction regardless of betrayal to their fanbase. Their previously soothing talents now work well with the right combination of electronic and traditional elements, spinning the right use of electric piano, pop beats and even some layered auto-tune for the right feeling of undiscovered glory that we weren’t expecting. They expertly utilize blast-from-the-past antics like heavy drum beats and synth chimes, and listeners will be delighted to find that it continues for the album’s entire eleven tracks. The eccentricity expands but the style remains united.

But unlike whatever’s charting on the pop tables as of now, the band can still write bubblegum tracks but actually fill them with substantial girth, tying in thematic material instead of fill-in-the-blank forgettables. This is where POP ETC finds success, and as we mentioned before, will find it again.

Perhaps eventually POP ETC will end up headlining for the biggest acts in the future, because at this rate, they’ve established a really great place for their already-awesome music to grow.

“R.Y.B.,” which stands for “Rock Your Body” contains quite the collection of noises, altogether forming an anthem that’ll make you high on life and cause you to itch to go outside.

Aside from short moments where the effects cause POP ETC’s message to become unclear, their self-titled debut runs freely without any bumps in the road. We hear their strong softer side as well as their supremely dedicated pumped-up loose rhythms.

In “Why’d You Do It Honey” the band proves that they can do more than just have a good time with their music production. This wrestles with more serious content, delving into jealousy and betrayal just as “I Wanna Be Your Man” talks of lust and imagination, encapsulated by smoky vocals and snaps between glittery glimpses of percussion interlude. It’s hot and beaming with feel-good energy one hundred percent.

POP ETC is closed with “Yoyo,” hammering out a sound like Prince and the pop writing energy like something from The Backstreet Boys, but only in the best way. It’s vintage all the way, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s noise like this­–so wonderful, so happy, so indulgent–that’ll have you coming back to it tomorrow, and years from now when you’re missing that fabulous flavor.

POP ETC – POP ETC tracklist:

1. “New Life”
2. “Back To Your Heart”
3. “Halfway To Heaven”
4. “Keep It For Your Own”
5. “Live It Up”
6. “Everything Is Gone”
7. “R.Y.B.”
8. “Why’d You Do It Honey”
9. “I Wanna Be Your Man”
10. “C-O-M-M-U-N-I-C-A-T-E”
11. “Yoyo”

Some of the best non-dubsteb dance-floor electronica of the past decade has come straight from Hot Chip. Every album they produce has at least one absolutely killer track: The Warning had “Over and Over,” Made in the Dark had “Ready for the Floor” and One Life Stand had… “One Life Stand.” These singles were endlessly danceable, funky electropop that worked as well in the club as they did in the home, and are honestly some of the most memorable and catchy jams ever written. Unfortunately, each of those albums really only has that one great song, and maybe one more: Hot Chip has historically had a huge problem with filler tracks. For every album’s “One Life Stand”, there are maybe 10 “Slush”s –boring, forgettable tracks that drag the whole record down. With the exception of The Warning, which is a solid album overall, it’s been pretty easy grab the singles and forget all the other songs. Luckily, that changes with Hot Chip’s newest, In Our Heads, which may just be their most complete recording yet.

Right from the album opener “Motion Sickness”, listeners will know exactly what they’re in for: simple, but catchy, slowly building but not tedious, nostalgic but not overdramatic, the song is a perfect introduction to the world of In Our Heads. All throughout the album, Hot Chip is in rare form –vocalist Alexis Taylor’s is soothing, not too low and not too high, and the myriad synthetic noises that back him pulse, slide and pop in just the right ways. It really is amazing to say, but there isn’t a single bad track on the entire album, and as a result the recording is infinitely more enjoyable than the last couple Hot Chip albums.

Part of the reason that this album works better than the previous ones may have to do with simple pacing: 2010’s One Life Stand would frequently veer from straight up dance beats into plodding, slower songs. Here, the tempo is consistent enough that everything flows naturally, making the album a much more enjoyable, consistent listen. And that goes a long way.

Album highlights include the aforementioned “Motion Sickness” (whose building horns may make it the best song on the album) the record’s first single “Night & Day”, and the ridiculous but undeniably fun “Don’t Deny Your Heart.” Really though, everyone else could have a different favorite set of tracks and be equally right: the album is just that strong a collection of songs. If forced to pick one bad track, though, “Now There Is Nothing” doesn’t quite hold up as well as the other 10 songs, but it still isn’t a deal-breaker.

Lyricism isn’t necessarily something people worry about much with dance music, but it must be noted that Hot Chip’s lyrics are always perfect. Simple and straightforward enough for the repetitive nature of the music, they still avoid sounding generic, and are a thousand times more earnest and endearing than the average dance track.

For those who have liked Hot Chip singles but never bothered with a full album, or those just looking for some good electronic music to jam to, you can’t really go wrong with In Our Heads.

Hot Chip – In Our Heads tracklist:

1. “Motion Sickness”
2. “How Do You Do”
3. “Don’t Deny Your Heart”
4. “Look at Where We Are”
5. “These Chains”
6. “Night and Day”
7. “Flutes”
8. “Now There Is Nothing”
9. “Ends of the Earth”
10. “Let Me Be Him”
11. “Always Been Your Love”