A few weeks ago, I decided I was incredibly bored with my music collection, so I went on a new-music shopping spree. I bought a couple albums at Best Buy, downloaded an album from iTunes, and ordered a few albums from Amazon.com, for a total of eight new albums. The albums I bought are from various genres, so I’ve decided to write mini-reviews for each one in the hopes that I may hit on the musical tastes of at least one of my blog readers (of which there are certainly very few, but I can hope, can’t I?), and introduce at least one of them to something good (or perhaps prevent them from buying crap). I will start with the first four, and I’ll post the other four if the interest is there.
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez- Se Dice Bisonte, No Bùfalo
Let me preface this by saying that I’m a bit of an Omar Rodriguez and Cedric Bixler fangirl; I’ve followed their collective musical output since their days with At the Drive In, and consider them one of the most dynamic duos in rock today. I own most of the ATDI catalogue, except for the first two albums (even I have to admit that their earlier work was mediocre, at best); I own a Defacto album (the band in between ATDI and the Mars Volta, which reminds me; I need to track down the other Defacto albums); I also (of course) own all the Mars Volta catalog, and I’ve seen TMV twice in concert (and they never disappoint live). That said, I"ve never ventured into Omar’s solo work until recently; I’ve been a little intimidated by his solo output, merely because there’s just so much of it. Aside from Mike Patton, Omar Rodriguez-Lopez is the hardest-working man in music these days. Besides TMV and his own solo work, he’s got his finger in several other pies; most recently, the Cryptomensia project with Zach Hill of Hella (yet another album with Omar’s and Cedric’s input that I’ve yet to investigate). As a result of Omar’s insane work ethic, much of Se Dice Bisonte comes across as scraping the bottom of the barrel; quantity is not quality, especially in this case. While all of TMV’s work past Deloused in the Comatorium suffers from Omar’s propensity to record every note that comes out of his guitar, his solo work suffers even more.
The album kicks off on a hopeful note with the fuzzy, funky, off-kilter riff of “The Lukewarm” that is trademark Omar, but fizzles out after less than a minute to segue into “Luxury of Infancy”, which sounds like nothing more than a bastard cousin to a riff in “Cygnus…Vismund Cygnus” from Frances the Mute. The album finally kicks into gear with “Rapid Fire Tollbooth”: an infantile, almost drunken version of “Goliath” from TMV’s The Bedlam in Goliath. Slowed down substantially and with lyrics radically different from “Goliath”, it lacks the punch that made the final product such a great song, but the more prevalent saxophone breathes a different life into the song. The rest of the album is much like the beginning; lacking any direction or theme, the listener eventually becomes bored. The title track goes on for seven minutes, and is very reminiscent of the worst of Amputechture-era Volta; trademark incomprehensible lyrics by Cedric, double-tracked bass and saxophone, and of course, undisciplined guitar work. The high point of the album is, without a doubt, “Please Heat This Eventually”; it starts out sounding like yet another Frances the Mute outtake, but eventually mutates into a surprisingly cohesive and enjoyable song. “Lurking About in Cold Sweat (Held Together by Venom)” follows, and the keyboard intro is such an obvious rip-off of Odd Nosdam that he could probably sue for copyright infringement. The rest of the album is forgettable, as it quickly devolves into a studio grab bag of wacky sound effects and yet more guitar wankery by Omar. Disappointing would be a good word to summarize the album; embarrassing would be an even better word. Unless you are even more obsessed with Omar and Cedric than I am, you’d be well advised to pass on this solo album, and hope that the upcoming TMV album Octahedron isn’t nearly as tepid as some of their recent releases.
Bonobo- Dial “M” For Monkey
If there’s one thing I’m always on the look out for and in the mood for, it’s good down-tempo electronica. Perhaps I was spoiled in finding Air, Thievery Corporation and Zero 7 first, but I’ve had a hard time finding anything that meets my expectations. Enter Pandora radio, which has been an absolute godsend for me in that it has introduced me to several new artists, but I am especially grateful for its role in acquainting me with Bonobo. I’d heard of Bonobo before, but had never been interested enough in him (“him” being Simon Green, the man behind the music) to track down any of his albums. A couple songs from Dial “M” for Monkey came up on Pandora when I was listening to the Boards of Canada station, and I was instantly intrigued. I had to hear more, so I set out to find the album on Amazon. Unfortunately, none of his albums were available for purchase from Amazon for a decent price (they were being sold by individual sellers for upwards of $30 an album), so I found the album I wanted at iTunes.
The album kicks off with “Noctuary”, which begins with an eerie sample of a harp and a stand up bass, which is then accompanied by a smooth, hypnotic beat. I’m nothing if not a sucker for a great harp piece (if you are too, you should also check out “International Flight” by David Snell; I promise you will not be disappointed), so I was immediately impressed, but even more so by the following track. “Flutter” is by far my favorite track on the album, which is saying a lot, because every track is pure perfection. “Flutter” begins with a hypnotically fast, dreamy xylophone intro, which is then supplemented with a monstrously catchy beat, sitar, and saxophone. The song defies time and space; it literally seems to go on forever, but yet is not nearly long enough. The next track, “D Song” begins with an almost aboriginal-sounding bell clanging; then the bass line, the jazzy keyboards and irresistible beat follow. The track “Pick Up” features some of the funkiest flute ever committed to record, and combined with an infectious hip-hop beat, it’s enough to make even me want to get up and dance. The album closer, “Light Pattern” begins with a tense bass riff, and when the beat comes in, it kicks off with a riff that would sound right at home in a James Bond movie.
Overall, the album has just the right balance of smoothness and groove that would be perfect for relaxing late at night with a glass of wine by oneself or with a group of friends. Dial “M” for Monkey is one of the worthiest musical purchases I’ve made in some time, and I look forward to finding and listening to more of Bonobo’s excellent work.
Spoon- Gimme Fiction
Spoon is another band that was recommended by Pandora, but this time while I was listening to the LCD Soundsystem station. I heard a few songs off of Gimme Fiction and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, and decided to give Gimme Fiction a try. I’ve recently become aware of how painfully absent rock music has been from what I regularly listen to, so I decided I needed to get back to my rock roots and see what Spoon had to offer. I’d heard of Spoon before, and had heard nothing but good things about them (especially in the No Music Discussion forum on the Something Awful forums; I guess that’s what I get for listening to a bunch of goons). I heard “I Turn My Camera On” on Pandora, and was taken by just how sexy the song sounds (I’m a sucker for well-done male falsetto vocals, what can I say). Unfortunately, none of the rest of the album lived up the expectations that were set by “I Turn My Camera On”, and lacked the groove that roped me into buying the album in the first place. Much of the album just sounds like Spoon is trying to ape Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and Ben Folds Five in equal measures, and that’s just not my bag. That’s not to say that this particular album is horrible; it does still have “I Turn My Camera On” on it, which is what possessed me to buy it in the first place. It’s just too bad the rest of the album isn’t like the song that reeled me in. Gimme Fiction is merely the latest in a long line of disappointing music purchases (that’s what I get for buying an album based on one song). I’m so disappointed by this album that I’m going to give it away to a more appreciative listener after only listening to it a handful of times. Kelly, it’s all yours.
MGMT- Oracular Spectacular
MGMT is a band that I’d heard of for a while, but had been a bit leery of listening to. The album cover to Oracular Spectacular just screams pretentious ironic hipster, which is the last thing I want to associate myself with at my age (I’ll be turning 29 next week and I’m definitely feeling it; I’m all for being open minded when it comes to new music, but I do have my limits). I almost bought it over a month ago when I was at Borders (and they were having a 40% sale on pretty much the entire CD department), but stopped short after hearing the garbled 10 second samples that Borders had available at their listening stations. A few weeks later, a couple MGMT songs came up on the LCD Soundsystem station I created, and I was surprised to find that I was immediately enchanted by their insanely catchy melodies and tight arrangements. Thusly, I got myself to the nearest Best Buy and bought Oracular Spectacular, post haste.
The album kicks off with “Time to Pretend”; an ode to resigning oneself to the rock and roll lifestyle (“This is our decision, to live fast and die young/ We've got the vision, now let's have some fun”). MGMT then drastically switches gears with “Weekend Wars”, which has the youthful sneer of Ziggy Stardust-era David Bowie without appearing to completely rip off Bowie. “The Youth” is positively anthemic in nature, beginning with “This is a call to arms to live and love and sleep together”, and ending with higher octave repetitions of the insanely catchy chorus. The listener is then blindsided by the sexy make-out swagger of “Electric Feel”, in which the singer channels both the Bee Gees and Mick Jagger (and somehow makes it sound so, so good). “Kids” is a new-wave throwback, but catchy nonetheless. “4th Dimensional Transition” is as chock full of psychedelia as the title suggests; the song could fit almost seamlessly on Piper at the Gates of Dawn. The album switches gears completely once again with the next song, “Pieces of What”, which nears quasi-country in its approach. “Of Moons Birds and Monsters” takes the album in yet another direction; this time, MGMT plays straight rock, and excels. “The Handshake” almost recalls Flaming Lips, until it reaches the bridge, which is all their own: swirling keyboards, watery vocals, and unstoppable melodies. The album closes with “Future Reflections”, which starts as a Native American chant, but morphs into New Wave bliss as only MGMT can muster.
All in all, MGMT manages to do what Ween does, which is to master many different musical styles, but they do it in such a manner that is not as obviously tongue in cheek as the brothers Ween are wont to do. Are MGMT pretentious ironic hipsters? I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care. They can be as pretentious and ironic as they want to be, as long as they keep making music that is this good.
