Review: Sia, We Are Born

Sia

We Are Born

3/4 Hand Claps

As far as I’m concerned, and take my expertise as you will, Sia is a master of both emotionally reflective songs, like the ones used at heart-string tugging scenes in Grey’s Anatomy, and the upbeat sassy song that makes you want to dance in front of your mirror as you get dressed.

The majority of the songs off her new album, We Are Born, fit into the upbeat music category. Carried through almost all these songs is a clap-along-to beat. The album starts strongly with the track, “The Fight.” It does seem to be a sort of rallying song with her soaring vocals calling one and all to join the fight. That song sets the tone for the rest of the album. Percussion that sounds as though it was spontaneously created by tapping nearby objects carries the listener through the album.

Like with her previous work, Sia creates a sound that you won’t find elsewhere. (After all, her last album was called Some People Have Real Problems and had this album cover) Her unique voice makes her upbeat songs sound powerful and sassy, while lending a haunting and emotional sound to her slower songs. She writes creative, but at the same time, raw lyrics. While the music sounds quirky, the lyrics are bold and straightforward. The words are sung directly, as if the person she is trying to communicate with is in the room. They are also real and explore the trials of humanity that we all face, as “we are born.” She sings with an authority that makes you want to follow her beliefs.

Only a few exceptions to this upbeat pop music appear on this album. However, when they do, they hit the bottom of your stomach like a stone. Her voice, at times self-assured, switches to being quite delicate and vulnerable. She pleads, and reveals, and sounds pure – so pure it sound a bit familiar at time.

Standout Tracks: The Fight, You’ve Changed, Be Good To Me, Never Gonna Leave Me, Cloud, and Oh Father

-- Kaitlin Carano

Review: Big Boi, Sir Lucious Left Foot

Big Boi
Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty
9.5/10

I’m going to cut straight to the chase: Big Boi’s debut solo album, Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty, is dope! No questions asked. I must admit that over the last few years I have pretty much been a hater of most new music released under the ‘hip-hop’ genre. This is due in part to my love-hate relationships with both T-Pain (it’s hard for me to continuously hate his music after he joined forces with Andy Samberg for “I'm On a Boat”) and Lil Wayne, coupled with my complete and utter dislike of artists such as Gucci Mane and Bangs. Over the course of these past few summer months, I have tried to mentally accept that the music industry is changing; genre roles are changing and therefore, hip-hop must also change. And, although I do miss the innovative styles of such artists as Eric B. & Rakim and De La Soul, not all of the hip-hop artists today are complete crap. Actually, some of them are pretty damn amazing.

I first heard Big Boi rapping on Southerplayalisticadillacmuzik as part of the duo OutKast. This album dropped in 1994 and I distinctly remember little ol’ me sitting in the back seat of the car as my older cousin drove around Chicago with this album on full blast. By the time Stankonia dropped in 2000 I was finally old enough to seek out the album myself and sing along to the lyrics whenever I was clear of adults. At this time I knew very little about production quality or lyrical flow and judged music solely based on the beat. It’s now 2010, I’m older, wiser and I have become a hell of a lot better at distinguishing albums that I will blast for a season then quickly forget from those that I believe represent true artistry.

I can’t get enough of Sir Lucious Left Foot. Big Boi has definitely been able to hold his own both as part of Outkast and as a solo artist. Despite doubts as to his potential success releasing a full solo album not accompanied by Andre 3000 (Speakerboxx was released with Andre 3000’s The Love Below so it doesn’t count in this instance) Big Boi has proven to be a definite innovator in the music industry. Maintaining the oh-so-precise calculations of production Outkast was so well-known for, Big Boi serves listeners with back to back dope tracks. He spits ill rhymes that had me continuously saying to myself, “Oh snap, he said that”. My top four tracks off the fifteen-track album are “Follow Us ft. Vonnegut”, “Shutterbug ft. Cutty”, “Hustle Blood ft. Jamie Foxx,” and “Fo Yo Sorrows ft. George Clinton, Too Short and Sam Chris”. Some of the tracks are slow jams while others remind me of summer parties back home but all fit together so perfectly that I enjoy listening straight through the album. If you have not yet listened to Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty I highly, highly, highly, recommend you do so. And soon. I for one will definitely be rocking this album for seasons to come.

Disclaimer: I would have given the album 10/10 but I had to deduct points for Gucci Mane’s presence on the track “Shine Blockas” (Gucci’s voice is a drone but the track otherwise is pretty awesome).

-- Dominique Barron

Review: Various Artists, Twilight: Eclipse Official Soundtrack

Various Artists
Twilight: Eclipse (Original Soundtrack)
B (Twilight: Eclipse, as a movie: F--)

I don't know where to begin on why I hate Twilight so, so much. There's just too much to hate. But then again, this is not a literary blog, or a vampire blog, or a Teen Korner blog, this is a blog about music. And the Twilight: Eclipse Official Soundtrack makes me forgive Twilight a tiny, almost insignificant bit for making the world so much worse. The Twilight movie saga has set a strange reputation for itself by roping in more and more (previously?) respectable indie bands to create and collaborate on original tracks for the movie soundtracks--a moneymaking scheme, no doubt, but one I finally agree with.

As this is the easiest way to go about a "Various Artists" album, I'll run through the best and worst tracks artist-by-artist. Metric's track "Eclipse - All Yours" is decent at best--there's no denying Emily Haines is a golden god no matter what she attempts, but the song just falls flat. As an aside, who is Sia? Did I miss something? What is that name? Wasn't there that one song everybody put on their angsty mixtapes for a while? Anyway, "My Love" is utter twee, but movies need those moments just like we do (unless we're robots). I'd never heard Cee-Lo on his own before (which isn't a surprise, if you look at his utterly impressive list of collaborations), but "What Part of Forever" made me curious for more.


As for the real highlights--the Black Keys track "Chop and Change" is gritty, gritty gold with epic movie potential (does the beginning remind anyone else of Inception?). Good work on two great tracks from Bombay Bicycle Club ("How Can You Swallow So Much") and Battles ("The Line"), Twilight producers, you've truly upped your ante with some indie heft. There's a Beck* and Bat for Lashes collaboration--a track I at first thought might turn out like Converse's first and second round of summer jams (read: really, really high expectations thanks to a dream team collab coupled with a really, really mediocre turnout). "Let's Get Lost" actually turned out great, to be honest--the two utterly different respective vocal styles melded together perfectly.

Finally--as per usual, I've saved the best for last, only because everything else pales in comparison to Florence + the Machine's "Heavy in Your Arms." I've said it before, but I'll say it again, I get depth overcharge when it comes to this band. "Heavy in Your Arms" is thundering, epic, utterly mind-blowing--and oh, the funniest, cruelest joke, it's not actually in the movie--it's not even the first song as the credits roll, to add insult to injury, it's the second. Which is, I suppose, in a roundabout way best, because if the scene this song was slated for was not the most epic, rousing battle scene in the movie, then it's probably best it was cut altogether. Because, in the end, the whole movie (Kristen Stewart-the-Worst included) should have been cut as a scene, leaving only this decent soundtrack behind it.

Up next for the Twilight movie soundtracks? One mega-collaboration track with every artist on the album contributing to the same song--a la "We Are The World."

*Hang on, I just realized that Beck's Top 8 Myspace Friends are all Greek Philosophers? Points? So many points!

--Fiona Hanly

Review: Jaill, That's How We Burn

Jaill

That’s How We Burn

3 mustaches out of 4 (actual band statistics: 2/4)

Michael Chabon, musing on the possibility of a totally original novel, said that “All novels are sequels; influence is bliss.” The same is true in the world of music. This review will not be able to tell you whether or not Jaill’s new album sounds like The Soft Pack has a crush on XTC, or of what it is “reminiscent.” Nor will it contain a lengthy analysis (with spreadsheets and percentages) that charts the band’s influences from their toddler days, when they were big into Raffi to their teenage years spent idolizing Joe Strummer. This review is, in fact, significantly more concerned with how the name of the band is pronounced (I alternately envision the word ‘jail’ pronounced with a Southern drawl or a Jamaican saying ‘ja! ill!’) and the fact that one of the members is named Ryan Adams.

Regardless of influence, what sets this album (and any other) apart is what Jaill does differently from others who have come before. Sure, Jaill may not fully be the “psych-pop” band that they envision themselves to be, but they still know how to throw together some slick, catchy tunes. The guitar lick on the deliciously upbeat ‘Everyone is Hip’ is utterly irresistible. The sardonically titled ‘How’s the Grave?’ sports some quite fun guitar solos and ‘Baby I’, though a bit slower, has an equally catchy hook. Sure, ‘Snake Shakes,’ and ‘She’s My Baby” could have just as easily come from an early Shins album, but then again, you would never find Mercer and company crafting a song like ‘The Stroller,’ the most “psych-pop” song to be found here. The album does have a few duller moments, and it is clear that Jaill are at their best when they are rocking out, keeping things upbeat and tight, and surfing easily through pure pop riffs. Still, when all is said and done, That’s How We Burn would be a pleasant addition to any summer rotation.

-- Mark Waterman

Review: Wild Nothing, Gemini

Wild Nothing

Gemini

8.5/10

If you are like me, you took one glimpse at the wholly discomforting album cover of Wild Nothing’s Gemini, and immediately grabbed at your own face to make sure that you still possess your highly desirable lower jaw. It’s not unlike waking from a fraught dream, shaking off the sleep and scouring your body to account for everything being intact. The sensation of reverie is entirely fitting for Wild Nothing, whose aptly pegged “80’s dream-pop” treads the familiar while never escaping the surreal throughout the artist’s wonderful debut album.

Hailing from Blacksburg, VA, Jack Tatum of Wild Nothing does not shy away from the dream association; instead, he welcomes it from the very first track, “Live in Dreams.” With Gemini, Tatum constructs a musical world saturated with shimmering synths and reverberating guitar, creating the blissful mood that never falters for the duration of the album. His voice floats and drifts, sometimes for several seconds, seeming both all-encompassing and completely out of reach at any given moment. The lyrics teem with unfulfilled sentiments and suppressed yearning (“Where are you going?/Can I come with you/I don’t feel right when you’re not here.”), but under the layers of hazy texture, the pain never seems acute. Compartmentalized in this other-worldly space, Tatum’s troubled emotions are only passing, and a sense of peace persists as each track fades to a gentle close.

The clarity of Wild Nothing’s expressiveness is refreshingly welcome, as the pervading anesthetic atmosphere takes the edge off the Tatum’s sharp reflection. The entire album has a well-conceived rhythm, and as such, no one song is worthy of a skip. A full listen without interruption is surprisingly comforting, especially during the summer months when music often aims for stand-alone anthems. That’s not to say that Gemini does not have its clear breakout moments; “Chinatown,” for one, exudes exuberance and conveys the restlessness that so often accompanies the mid-year break. Another album hightlight, “O, Lilac,” features a bouncing acoustic melody and is decidedly upbeat in comparison to the rest of the LP.

Sure, Wild Nothing sticks to a consistent musical formula, and doesn’t introduce any particularly novel concepts. But the strength of Tatum’s composition is unwavering, and maintained a inescapable grip on my own attention within every listening moment. Ultimately, the cool lushness of Gemini provides the perfect counterbalance to the sweet, beachy, sun-soaked albums that have become commonplace in the summer of 2010, and will have staying power long after the warm months dissipate into the crispness of autumn.

Worth many listens: “Chinatown”; “O, Lilac”; “Summer Holiday”; “Confirmation”

--Scott Lensing

Review: Gayngs, Relayted

Gayngs Relayted
A (or 2/2 Unnecessary Silent Vowels)

Before we begin, I have two tasks--first of all, please proceed to Gayngs' Wikipedia page. Read the first few paragraphs. Now, I dare you not to immediately like this band, based just on those few bits of information. There are so many things to like! 23 musicians (including Justin Vernon (SWOON) and a rapper (classic combination of things?)), check; the entire band dressed as "prom" for their first show, check; the Onion liked it and we're suddenly taking the Onion seriously (?), check; they not only did a cover song but a cover video (something Take Cover could look into!), check. Check!

Now that we've got a predisposed bias in favor of the band, we're ready to face the music. To make things easy, Gayngs takes everything about Justin Vernon that could have made you fall asleep and turns the beat up a few notches and back a few decades--from "smooth and sonorous" to "big, harmonic 80's boogie." The album is huge, and lovely, the kind of album that fills a listener up with sound and warmth. This sounds trite, but I'm not kidding, the album is, metaphorically speaking, the Grand Canyon in an elephant's ribcage.

The 23 band members surprisingly don't end up tripping over each other--but their respective influences do shine through in bits and pieces from song to song. "The Walker"--who knew gunshots could, well, fit into a soft rock piece without making me fall out of my office chair? Hats off to Rhymesayers' influence. "Spanish Platinum" is kind of Twin Sister-esque spacey, no doubt Solid Gold's influence. I couldn't even hate "No Sweat" despite the presence of a saxophone (and I have a vendetta against saxophones and 80's music in general). I could go on, but I'll end it here by saying the best thing about the album is that there's something to like about every song, and that there's no telling which one will be my favorite on any given day. My favorite game recently has been playing a "Where's Waldo" of sorts with the list of musicians--can you find the Andrew Bird contributor's influence shine through in any of the tracks? Anyone? Please, keep the surprises coming, Gayngs.

Review: 180° South: Conquerers of the Useless Soundtrack

180° South: Conquerers of the Useless Soundtrack
Various Artists
B

180° South: Conquerers of the Useless--just another regular movie about another bunch of regular guys, right? Not really. And it's not a soundtrack put together by a regular bunch of guys, either, but we'll get to that. To sum up, the plot of the movie consists of "adventurer*" Jeff Johnson deciding to venture off toPatagonia and retrace the steps of Yvon Chouinard and Doug Tompkins, two regular guys who went to Patagonia in 1968, who had their lives "changed," and decided to put this "last wild place on earth" under protection. You'll have to take my word on this one, because I, too, have only seen the trailer, but I have the feeling Johnson's story will probably include beautiful nature shots, overcoming massive setbacks and finding his destiny along the 10,000 mile journey.

So what about the soundtrack, the one that you didn't get to listen to in the trailer because somebody decided to play Animal Collective instead? There's a little bit of Jack Johnson, a little bit of James Mercer, topped off by a whole lot of Ugly Casanova. Here's everything you'll need to know about Ugly Casanova, ever. In my professional opinion, that's a great backstory to a band if I've ever heard one. It is, however, unnecessary to read that the band is essentially Modest Mouse, because listening to just one song on this soundtrack will give that away--especially if it's not an instrumental and you can actually hear Isaac Brock's lisp. The Ugly Casanova tracks on the album sound like back-to-basics, performing-in-your-back-yard Modest Mouse, stripped down and a lot of twang. Jack Johnson has always been performingshirtless in your backyard (in Hawaii), with a lot of twang. James Mercer is harder to place--member of the Shins, and lately Broken Bells, what is he doing on this soundtrack? Let's take the fact that he was born in Hawaii as well--shirtless twang is, then, in his blood, as is protecting beautiful places, adventures, probably surfing, and definitely making soundtracks for movies about adventurers.

Essentially, these artists have written songs that will complement the film perfectly. Even listening to the soundtrack only once, it's easy to imagine where each of the stripped-down, restrained indie-rock tracks is going to fit into this movie--an adventure movie with a strong underlying environmental message. Take "Maybe We're Lost"--here's where the big plot setback will happen. It'll get really cold, and Jeff Johnson is going to lose a toe to frostbite, or his tent is going to blow away in the wind, or he'll be pummeled within an inch of his life by a monster wave. There's going to be a sweeping panorama shot that shows how small he really is, Man vs. Wilderness, while some muted guitar chords play and Isaac Brock mutters something existential into the microphone. Or take "Here's to Now"--here's how the movie will end, on a song that's probably about living in the moment (though I'm not quite sure), and in a broader sense about appreciating the things you can have in said moment, and trying to preserve them for the future. Man has the power todestroy, man has the power to save. After the thoroughly enjoyable yet predictable (don't these movies always end the same?) two hour ad made by Patagonia in support of environmental protection (and their clothing), we'll fade to black with a sense of urgency, impeding doom, and a modicum of hope.

"Man is alright, you can't beat him" --William Faulkner**

Highlight Tracks: "Here's to Now," "Maybe We're Lost"
When to Listen to the Album: While Napping on the Beach

-- Fiona Hanly

*first off, what kind of a career is "adventurer?!" and where can I sign up to be one??
**it must be something in the water, but Faulkner has been an inspiration to WGTB DJ's of late

Review: Band of Horses, Infinite Arms

Band of Horses

Infinite Arms

4.0 out of 10 disappointed fans

There it was, on display at the Whole Foods register, double-teamed by Jack Johnson and Michael Bublé: Infinite Arms, the latest release from Band of Horses. “Bwah?” No one around me would have known it, but I was immediately ashamed. How did my beloved band find themselves in the snoozer company of adult-contemporary all-stars who rhapsodize about banana pancakes (delicious, no doubt) and impersonate Frank Sinatra?

A phenomenal debut and an excellent sophomore album raised expectations for this third LP from the Seattle-turned-Carolina rockers. However, what should have cemented of Band of Horses’ place as one of the most satisfying acts in indie rock instead represented a dive into a limbo of lazily meandering melodies. I probably should have seen the writing on the wall, as lead singer Ben Bridwell remains the sole original member of the band. Even when the video for the first single, “Compliments,” previewed in early April, with its bizarre montage of nature photos, I refused to believe that more of this risk-averse music would come on the album. Of course, I was wrong.

If Cease to Begin was one totally acceptable step from Everything All the Time into more accessible song-craft, then Infinite Arms is a leap into substanceless tunes. From start to finish, not one song truly stands out from the rest, an absolutely glaring change from their previous efforts that reverberated indefinitely in my head for days and weeks at a time. Multiple-part harmony with a Southern-rock tinge reigns the day on this record, usually accompanied by a daintily strummed acoustic guitar and nominally tapped drums. The wondrous reverb is gone, as this album relies completely on the pleasant but lackluster vocals that constitute the foundation for each and every track.

The only remaining constants of today’s Band of Horses are Bridwell’s lovely and expansive voice, and an abundance of beards. Despite the nature motifs of this LP, the songs fail to reach into the infinite abyss as they once did; the vocals are altogether contained and restrained. Bridwell’s pipes no longer haunt nor unsettle, but instead breeze past the listener without taking root. Lyrics like “If there’s a God up in the air/Someone looking over everyone/At least you got something to fall back on” are straightforward and uninspired, with a sense of contentedness to just have someone listen to the singers’ musings. Songs such as “Blue Beard” resemble dated 1970s love-ballads, and don’t elicit more than an unimpressed sigh. Ironically, even with tunes that spill over with affections and aches, this record lacks heart.

And I don’t strive to be overly harsh, but I can’t help but discuss at length my disappointment with a band that I once held dear. It just seems that with the well-deserved success of their first two albums, Band of Horses, and Bridwell more specifically, made an indulgent record that they knew could ride on the coattails of fan loyalty. While Whole Foods’ prominent recognition of the group is not a damning sign in and of itself, it is certainly an indication that the band had lost its creative and compelling identity. Let’s hope that, somehow, Band of Horses regain their unshakable sound on the next effort..

Meh…: “On My Way Back Home” and “For Annabelle”

-Scott Lensing

Review: The Drums, The Drums

The Drums
The Drums

7.4/10

If The Strokes, The Cure, The Smiths, and the Beach Boys all got together had a baby (science is close!), they would name it The Drums. Well, actually, first they’d name it Goat Explosion, and then change their minds to Elkland, before finally settling on The Drums. Despite their apparent indecision in the name department, the band now known as The Drums consciously borrowed elements from several new-wave indie pop giants and beach bums of yore to spawn a band that looks and sounds like a little bit of all of them.

The simple surfer riffs and beachy beats of The Drums’s second album, The Drums, closely follows up the sound introduced in their September 2009 debut, Summertime!. Singles like “Best Friend” and “Let’s Go Surfing” are fun, familiar, and super catchy—perfect staples to any summer playlist. On their website, The Drums explain that they “only write about two feelings: one is the first day of summer when you and all of your friends are standing on the edge of a cliff watching the sun set and being overcome with all of your hopes and dreams at once. The other is when you're walking alone in the rain and realize you will be alone forever."

With tried and true (and all alliterations aside, maybe a little trite) 60s beats, 80s emotion, and earnest, repetitive lyrics, almost every song from The Drums is practically guaranteed to end up stuck in your head. How long it’ll stick around when September rolls around, though, is another question. If The Drums amp up their creativity level and branch out from their cozy cove of well-curated influences, they could potentially be around long enough to inspire the next pretty-boy surfer-pop band.

Recommendations: “Best Friend”, “Let’s Go Surfing”, “Me and the Moon” (not because I especially love it but because it is at least a little bit different sounding.)

-- Emma Forster

Review: Arcade Fire, The Suburbs (With Album Stream)

Arcade Fire
The Suburbs
1000 words

The literary accompaniment to The Suburbs is found almost too perfectly in William Faulkner’s 1950 Nobel Prize acceptance speech, in which he declared the state of youth in the union: “There are no longer problems of the spirit. There is only one question: when will I be blown up?”

The Montreal-based septuplet similarly poses the difficult questions of the age on their latest release, sometimes ironically and sometimes earnestly. Thematically organized around the threat of suburban sprawl and the replacement of one culture with another, the band manages to avoid the inevitable downer-type sensibility associated with suburban sprawl and instead replace it with total searching exuberance. Like Faulkner, they simply “decline to accept the end of man,” a challenge made immediately clear from Win Butler’s first declaration on the album amid friendly, pleasant piano plinks: “The suburbs are a lonely drive / and you told me we’d never survive / grab your mother’s keys, we’re leaving.”

This is the album Arcade Fire have been waiting their whole career to make. People are going to go under this album and not come out until they’re old and grey. If folks got excited about Funeral and Neon Bible, both of which teetered around 46 minutes of orchestral art-rock, then they should probably sit down for this one, because there’s far more being said here. Where Funeral built tunnels and made connections, The Suburbs shirks any peacemaking or coming-to-terms; instead, it shouts desperately for any sign of real life, of hearts beating real blood, echoing Springsteen’s query: “Is there anybody alive out there?”

[Read full review and stream the album after the jump]

Review: The Roots, How I Got Over

The Roots How I Got Over
8 afro picks out of 10

Evidently, while discussing the overall feel of his band’s most recent album, Black Thought opined that it had a more positive message than 2008’s Rising Down. Still, if you were expecting some sort of lighthearted album with a couple of nice summer jams, then you have come to the wrong place. The Roots may be “late night now like Here’s Johnny,” but they are still The Roots, and they will dumb it down for no man. Though a touch dark at the beginning, How I Got Over will make it such that no one forgets any time soon that The Legendary Roots Crew are still the best musicians in the game. Of course, Black Thought is no slouch on the mic, and with several excellent guest appearances, How I Got Over becomes yet another solid release from The Roots.

The Roots became the house band on Jimmy Fallon’s late night show in March 2009, which left fans of their live performances with precious few chances to catch them out at a venue, and, sadly, their performance at Earth Day was frequently marred by sound system malfunctions. Their LNJF Sandwiches (check it out if you want to spice up your iPhone ringtone Roots-style) were some of the only material available. Personally, I am impressed that the band found the time to record a full album while pulling double duty late at night, though I guess we shouldn’t expect anything less from such a dynamic group.

Until the title track ‘How I Got Over,’ the album dwells in rather dark territory reminiscent of Rising Down. “The road to perdition/guess I’m gonna get my plea on,” Black raps on ‘Walk Alone’ after verses from Roots regulars Truck North and P.O.R.N. “Trying to keep a singing man sane for the paying fans,” continues ‘Dear God 2.0,’ which laments the “Acid rain, earthquakes, hurricane, tsunamis” that leave Black “breakin’ it down/without an answer.”

Despite the dark message, I was super excited (and surprised) to hear the unmistakable voice of up and coming rapper Blu opening ‘Radio Daze.’ Apologies for the diversion here, but y’all, Blu is THE SHIT. He made it on a lot of “young rapper to watch” lists last year, but got low marks because he didn’t put out any material. Still, his ‘Soul Amazing’ mixtape from 2008 is still solidly entrenched in my playlist. Dude even raps over bluegrass and Spanish guitar beats (among many others) and kills it. If you need a good summer rap mixtape, look http://www.mediafire.com/?td3ybnyctut”>no further. It is worth mentioning that The Roots collaborated with Joanna Newsome (Right On), the Monsters of Folk (Dear God 2.0), and even Haley Dekle of the Dirty Projectors (Peace of Light) on this album. Clearly, they are not shying away from their more experimental… uh … roots. Even songs like ‘Peace of Light’ and ‘Tunnel Vision’, both sans lyrics, are well done.

How I Got Over is an album that starts dark buts get brighter. In fact, it seems that The Roots had a message in mind when they recorded it and placed the track order. The chorus of the title track seems to sum it up—“that type of thinking can get you nowhere, someone has to care.” As the album winds down we see a more hopeful message. “Whole new blueprint/Brand new layout” raps Phonte on ‘The Day,’ and Black wants to “move like a wise warrior and not a coward” on ‘The Fire.’ The albums final track, ‘Hustla,’ was the only one that I could genuinely not handle. The auto-tune baby cries make for quite a weird song, the album’s only miss. With plenty of interesting musicianship (if Kanye can be K-West, can’t we also have Q-Uest, am I wrong???) and still ample space for Black Thought to do what he does best, How I Got Over impresses. Lastly, if you haven’t had a chance to see The Roots live in concert, you really ought to do so. Not because I think they are going to stop touring or something, but because it will be worth the price of admission wherever they happen to be playing.

-- Mark Waterman

Review: Around the World and Back, Songs to Sleep To

Around the World and Back
Songs to Sleep to
7/10 echoing ethereal voices

As far as album titles go, Around the World and Back’s album, Songs to Sleep to, is aptly titled. The music is full of hazy dream-like tunes. Between the repeated guitar riffs that echo through the music, to the jangling tambourine that is the only form of percussion, if any, on most of the tracks, the music carries you along the echoing voice of the lead singer and the melodies of the guitar. The only song that has any form of percussion is “@&%^” and the quiet drumbeat is definitely not going to get you up and moving.

The band, based in Albany, New York, describes themselves as “what people nowadays might label as an "indie-rock" band. Instead of fighting against being pigeon-holed as another wanna-be artsy alternative rock band, they embrace it. They run with it. They leave the comfort of their own home to bring their version of it to your homes.”

This is clear in their music, which neither tries to be overly pretentious about their sound, nor push too far away from the style they’ve been pegged as. In doing this, they do bring a new flavor to the sound of indie. They sound like a mix between Death Cab for Cutie and the Cinematic Orchestra. Everything sounds like it belongs in a dream sequence of a movie, or an emotional scene as a character drives down an empty highway. Songs to Sleep to will certainly not get you pumped for a night out, but provides the perfect relaxing background music to times of homework or contemplation. Each and every song blends together so that you’re not sure when the song even changes. It’s enough to lull you to sleep…in the best possible way.

Recommended tracks: “Why Won’t You Stay?” “

Bonus: You can download the entire 6-track album off their Myspace for FREE!

-- Kaitlin Carano

Review: Best Coast, Crazy for You

Best Coast
Crazy For You
9.2/10

The unrequited crush: We’ve all been there. Pining away like Samantha Baker for Jake Ryan, wishing that a) Jake would notice us and sit on our kitchen counter with us, blowing out all 16 of our birthday candles, and that b) we had the perfect maudlin yet hopeful set of tunes to get us through the torment of it all. If any of that sounds familiar to you, then go ahead and turn off the Thompson Twins and switch on Best Coast to mend your breaking heart.

On July 27, California’s Bethany Cosentino and Bobb Bruno, aka Best Coast—who have been tempering teenage heartache for months with perfectly angst-ridden, lo-fi single after single—will finally release their first full-length album, Crazy for You. With a similar sound to the band’s earlier releases, such “Sun Was High (So Was I),” the new album is replete with romantic, hazy, California-sandy tunes, perfect for when you’re, as Cosentino puts it, “sitting all alone at home/ and waiting waiting waiting waiting waiting by the phone.” And, like each single and EP released up to this point (including the questionably trendy Kid Cudi and Rostam Batmanglij of Vampire Weekend mash up), Crazy for You does not disappoint.

Crazy isn’t simply a collection of mindless, boy-crazed sap songs—Cosentino’s creativity and musical knowledge lend a stellar quality to what has the potential to be superficial and repetitive fluff. As demonstrated by the Best Coast blog, Cosentino’s musical influences are ample and varied—the depth of which is reflected by her ability to turn the trite (you can only say “I wish I had a boyfriend” so many ways) into heartrending, universally appealing music. Her wide-ranging inspiration creates subtle, yet hugely different, transitions—evoking everything from 90s Nirvana-esque angst to poppy 60s girl band riffs—that save the music from becoming monotonous and reveal the depth of the band’s well-crafted personality.

With simple but poignant lyrics that could easily have been torn from Molly Ringwald’s diary (“Last night I went out with this guy/he was nice/he was nice and cute/but he wasn’t you”), Cosentino’s perfectly drawling voice gives an uncomplicated and much needed reprieve from whatever ails you. Whether it’s boys or your boring summer job, each three-minute jangle strikes all the right notes. A combination of the Go-Gos, The Beach Boys, and The Primitives, Best Coast supplies 29 minutes of genuine summer-lovin’ bliss that lives up to the expectations created by months of singles, EPs, and cat images (an homage to Cosentino’s feline companion, “Snacks”).

Recommendations: “Boyfriend,” “I Want To,” and “When I’m With You,” but seriously all of them, ideally in a row while biking past his house repeatedly.

-- Emma Forster