List Compiled by: Ed.

Title Inspiration: Kevin Teare

No less than three major music retail stores closed up shop in my vicinity over the last twelve months, those being Sam Goody, Tower Records and the late, great Empire Discs (in addition to a few other smaller shops in the Tri-State area). And while I will admit I have benefited greatly to their demise with some amazing deals during their close-out sales (a list of which is being compiled as we speak), it breaks my heart to see places I have been frequenting for years fall prey to our nation’s ADD antics and agoraphobic tendencies that come with shopping online. I loved nothing more than the days when I would zip over to Tower or Empire at like 11 PM on a Tuesday night to look through the bins, hoping I might be lucky to find Ghostface Killah’s Ironman for $3 (true story) or a copy of the It’s a Beautiful Day LP on CD. But while those days might be gone as of 2006, this year marked a considerable rebirth of great new music from young bands, old hats and catalog departments cleaning out their closets, providing hope that while the record shopping biz may be crumbling all around us, it still can’t stop the flood of creativity from happening. There’s an entire of nation of us who refuse to be dumbed down by corporate compromise, and in spite of what we might see on TV and hear on radio these days, we still matter to the marketplace. The following list is a compilation of albums initially written up for this year’s pair of IRT’s, but saved for a later date, such as this, which signifies such sentiments, be it for better or for worse. We hope you enjoy. –Ed.

SEAN LENNON

Friendly Fire (Capitol)

THE U.S. VS. JOHN LENNON

Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (Capitol)

THE BEATLES

Love (Capitol)

Soooooo….Mike Conklin of the L Magazine thinks I’m “hopelessly out of touch” because I said the last Paul McCartney album was the best LP of 2005. Well, wait until he sees who’s at the top of this year’s model. Man, I love the Beatles. I’m sorry if I can’t just accept whatever flavor of the week Williamsburg has a hard-on for lately in lieu of the real thing. And this is why I love the new Sean Lennon. Though his 1998 debut Into The Sun is a fine piece of noise pop, John’s prodigal son has finally seemingly come to grips with the fact that he is his father’s son on a sonic level, much like Julian did on 1999’s sleeping beauty Photograph Smile. Flanked by a crack band that includes Jon Brion and Paul Simon’s son Harper, Friendly Fire is a heartbreaker of an LP that pays tribute to his late best friend while telling the tale of how his ex-girlfriend Bijou Phillips cheated on him with the deceased. One can only hope it doesn’t take another 8 years before he puts another piece of music out. The spirit of Papa Lennono was treated to yet another documentary in 2006 with the U.S. vs. John Lennon, whose soundtrack contains some of his most well-loved protest anthems. Then you have Love, the soundtrack to the Beatles/Cirque de Soleil Vegas trip that has more people booking flights to Sin City than the blackjack table at the Sands. Expertly produced by original Fab producer George Martin and his son Giles, the pair bring the same kind of layering technique that made Sgt. Pepper such a blast to the fray, mashing up over 100 different Beatles songs into a 26-song pastiche of sound that truly makes what was once old new again. And so while some hipsters might consider me “out of touch” for this dogged dedication I have to the Beatles, all I can say to that is stay up with your Sufjan Stevens records and leave me be. –Ed.

DAVID GILMOUR

On An Island (Columbia)

Anyone who may’ve slagged Gilmour for cheezing out the greatest rock band in outer space with Pink Floyd’s 1994’s exhaustively underwhelming The Division Bell has every reason to give this man a pardon with this killer third solo effort, his first since 1984’s About Face. Harmonizing with David Crosby and Graham Nash, jamming out with the likes of Robert Wyatt of the Soft Machine, Phil Manzanera of Roxy Music and fellow Floydian Richard Wright and busting out some of his smoothest licks since A Momentary Lapse of Reason, On An Island is a must-have for anyone who hasn’t truly dug a Floyd-related work since Roger’s Amused To Death. And for those of you late bloomers out there, Columbia has just released a special deluxe edition with a bonus DVD featuring a live performance from May of this year at Royal Albert Hall, a kick-ass rendition of “Astronomy Domine” at Abbey Road Studios and an 8-song set from New York. –Ed.

THE HOLD STEADY

Boys and Girls in America (Vagrant)

My beloved Hold Steady inked a deal with livejournal-core-turned-cred-starved indie label Vagrant Records over the summer. I immediately thought of Alkaline Trio, a band who I worshipped in my high school days with an ardor comparable to that which I currently regard the Steady, dreading the possibility that my boys might face, in the hands of their new label, a similar degeneration into flaccid caricatures of their former selves. New York Times write-up be damned, Boys and Girls made short work of popping my bubble of fanboy dread. Craig Finn’s story-songs still ooze with busted, hyper-literate viritol but rather than tempt the over-arching narrative, Finn gives each of the tracks its own minute, chiseled and utterly potent universe. Vet knob-twirler John Angello helps THS to a more finessed FM squalor, allowing the band’s oft-overlooked musicianship to stumble, dazed and enthused, out of Finn’s titanic shadow. As always, the lines between hipster-baiting venom and window-down earnestness are blurred with reckless abandon. This sweaty slice might not make The Hold Steady any easier to like in some circles, but it’s making them harder and harder to flat out ignore. –Tom Whalen

JOHN LEGEND

Once Again (G.O.O.D-Columbia)

So John boy here is a Jeff Buckley fan. Who would’ve thunk it? Adding this new dimension of spending equal time with Grace and My Sweetheart The Drunk to that of the first Donny Hathaway and Marvin’s What’s Going On has considerably increased Mr. Legend’s status with us here at the IRT office. Sorry kids, but it seems to me that this cat can’t be tossed off as Kanye’s ho no mo. –Ed.

JASON COLLETT

Idols of Exile (Arts & Crafts)

Representing the rootsy–rather than indie-fied–wing of Toronto’s burgeoning music scene, Jason Collett makes the kind of music you’d expect a carpenter to make. Oh yeah, he’s also a carpenter. That being the case, it should come as no surprise that Idols of Exile is a solid if unspectacular offering of well-crafted country-rock and friendly, Petty-esque vocals. But unlike a good piece of wood, Idols of Exile ain’t exactly combustible. While tracks like the near-Nilsson pop of “I’ll Bring the Sun” and the violin-dappled “We All Lose One Another” sport an appealingly laid-back and romantic vibe, large swathes of the album float by in a soft haze of acoustic strumming and careworn vocals. The album may not set any hearts on fire, but it’d come as no surprise if on some warm summer’s evening deep in the heart of Ontario’s cottage country, Idols of Exile provided the perfect soundtrack to some tender romance. -David Marchese

EVERLOVELY LIGHTNINGHEART

Cusp (Hydrahead)

OXBOW

Love That’s Last: A Wholly Hypnographic & Disturbing Work Regarding Oxbow (Hydrahead)

Many of those who know me know I have a raging hard-on for everything Hydra Head puts out or endorses. I can’t count the number of records in my collection that have an HHR number. I order the special pre-order package bundles. Hell, I even contemplated getting a Godflesh tattoo at one point. Needless to say I get excited when they put out new records and sign new bands. Everlovely Lightningheart (also sometimes known as Faith in Vapors Thin as Paper) is one of those new bands. They seem to have come out of nowhere (nowhere being LA), and no one seems to have heard of them until Hydra Head announced they were releasing Cusp. They are an enigmatic entity (reports have told of chaotic live performances that range from 2 to a dozen performers) playing shows with Isis one day, and then doing museum installations and art collective events. Their debut Cusp is equally as puzzling and challenging. Cusp is one track and 40 minutes long. It runs the gamut of experimental music. It’s serene and contemplative at one point, and then at other points it is an exercise in free improvisation. It is one of those albums that is entirely interesting to listen to, but ultimately impossible to describe. Oxbow, on the other hand, is definitely not as enigmatic or cerebral. Their records are about sex, drugs and fucking. Recording since the late 80s for labels such as SST and Neurot Recordings, Oxbow has been an amazing and terrifying band. An Evil Heat is one of the most brutal records I think I’ve ever heard. Led by Eugene Robinson (a man who regularly rights reports on fighting, mixed martial arts and has interviewed President Clinton, twice), Oxbow is a band that is capable of fraying nerves and destroying lives. Love That’s Last is a good double disc introduction to the band. The first disc is a collection of songs from their seminal albums, live improvisations, unreleased tracks and live versions of songs, and it basically serves as a greatest hits collection for a band that never had any hits. On its own it serves as a great collection of songs by a fucking amazing band. What sets Love That’s Last apart is the second disc, which is a DVD that includes a documentary about the band, and live performances that are often frighteningly intense (Eugene Robinson is over 6 feet tall and is pure muscle, and enjoys fighting willing audience members). Love That’s Last is a perfect re-introduction to a band that is in a class by itself. –Marc Wasserman

THE LADIES

They Mean Us (Temporary Residence)

There’s a lesson to be learned here: never judge a promo by its cover. At first glance, the Ladies seemed all too intent on not being taken seriously, (the name, the stick-figure artwork, song titles like “Nice Chaps, Buddy” and “Mandatory Psycho-Freakout”) as if to say, hey guys, we’re just another quirky lil’ side project, don’t mind us, we’re just here to get down with our wacky selves. Wouldn’t ya know it; the plastic heats up and this ish gets serious. Love child to the frenetic sonic imaginations of Pinback’s Rob Crow and Hella’s Zach Hill, the Ladies’ debut LP, They Mean Us, showcases as much charm and blissfully dynamic musicianship as anything released by either dude’s main gig. The duo’s rare marriage of bombastic virtuosity and careful song craft is evident from the first bars of opening jam “Black Caesar/Red Sonja”: guit-chug blast … hook!… guit-chug blast… hook!… blast blast blast END! Short, sweaty and crazy digestible. The boys spend the rest of They Mean Us’ half hour tooling around with this formula and by the second half, the spoils are positively mind-blowing. “So Much For the Forth Wall” brings some slow-burn synth and spooked-out reverb to the party, forging a dynamic juxtaposition that, for once, justifies the Slint shout-out. Crow’s six string goes drop D for “And Them,” pasting some mean burn-out shredding atop Hill’s acrobatic bump-n-bump before dissolving into a wash of digital back-masking. They Mean Us is as approachable as anything this insanely progressive gets. Whether this is by design or happy accident, one things for sure: this bad-boys the sleeper hit of the summer. - Tom Whalen

MUGISON

Little Trip (Ipecac)

Did you think the new Flaming Lips album was balls, too? Fear not, disgruntled apostle of the Satellite Heart, for Ipecac Records brings to you Little Trip, the latest album by Icelandic songwriting sensation Mugison. With a song in his heart and apparently a few too many blaze sessions with Swordfishtrombones on full blast, Little Trip is a brilliant exercise in the concept of Island Records-era Tom Waits role-playing as Phil Spector back when he was shooting off guns in the studio with John Lennon. This is one of the best albums I have heard all year, and all the more reason for you to give up on your shallow allegiance to Wayne Coyne and his merry band of corporate pranksters. –Eli Whitney

CLOGS

Lantern (Brassland)

It’s records like these that make me feel the slow sting of my perpetually inadequate musical vocabulary. It seems pointless to bother with the myriad of reference points pulled together by Clogs on this, their fourth full length, because by the time the damn thing stops spinning the group has thoroughly decimated and gloriously transcended just about all of them. For Lantern, Clogs have expanded their repertoire (adding melodica, piano and ukulele to the usual parade of acoustic guit, symphonic strings, percussion and bassoon) while somewhat paring down their approach, allowing instruments to flourish individually or in small groups rather than bludgeoning the listener with oppressive and heavy-handed textural juxtapositions. The group’s heavy improvisational leanings are also evident in some of the record’s more spirited chunks (check the steel-drum bonanza on “5/4”,) but the true magic happens when Padma Newsome, Clogs’ compositional brain trust, teases and finesses the group’s eclectic sonic palette into some awe-inspiring sound narratives. Truly and wonderfully unique. - Tom Whalen

AEREOGRAMME

Seclusion (Sonic Unyon)

Man, I missed this band. After 3.5 years of seclusion and label changes, the mighty Aereogramme have returned with a 6 song EP that is crushingly beautiful and as good as their spectacular second album Sleep and Release. Within seconds of the first song, “Inkwell”, I’m stoked that one-time leaders of Scotland’s “cool guy rock” scene are back. All the elements that made them one of my favorite Scottish bands are still present. Loud, angry, distorted guitars, bombastic drums and lovelorn lyrics that often deal with the incapability of men my age to deal with the weaker sex. Things are get a bit sinister in the middle of the EP with the 10 minute opus Unravelling, which balances wailing guitars and screaming vocals to create an unholy fury. This EP is just a teaser that hints at the upcoming album that is promised by the end of the year. If that promised LP is half as good as this EP it’ll be on my top records of 2006. Oh and the band totally scores bonus points for the Aaron Turner (Isis/Hydrahead) artwork. –Marc Wasserman

ROB ZOMBIE

Educated Horses (Geffen)

Thanks to the success of House of 10,000 Corpses and Devil’s Rejects, Rob Zombie doesn’t need to make music. If he returns to the studio it must be because he has something to say with his music, right? His new album is a more mature effort, drawing heavily on the classic rock influences that could be heard on the music he chose for the Devil’s Rejects soundtrack. The electronics effects are there and the dark themes run rampant, but it does seem as though Rob has mellowed out a bit when it comes to music. It rocks (mainly thanks to ex-Marilyn Manson Guitarist Johnny 5), but it grooves too and that groove is the album strength. Instead of hitting you in the face this album charms it’s way next to you and whispers in your ear before it rips your throat out. – Brad Filicky

ELVIS COSTELLO AND THE BRODSKY QUARTET

The Juliet Letters (Rhino)

I first tried to listen to this album during my freshman year of college. I was a big fan of the last two Elvis albums (especially the misunderstood 1990 gem Mighty Like A Rose), and even though he recorded it with a string quartet, I thought it would be at least more Beatles than Brahm. And guess what? This shit put me right to sleep then, and it does even more so now. I can appreciate Costello’s love for all elements of recorded music, but classical is just not this man’s bag. How you can make that stuff more boring than it already is confounds me. Even the bonus disc on this one is a snooze, and usually they are the saving grace of even the worst Elvis Costello album in Rhino’s reissue series (that would be Goodbye Cruel World). Immediately following the screening of this Juliet Letters reissue, I immediately had to throw a rotation of This Year’s Model, Get Happy!!! and King of America into my car just to remind myself who my homeboy really is. Unless you are some kind of masochist who actually prefers Il Sogno to The Delivery Man or North to When I Was Cruel, you’d be better served to just stick to your fave EC productions and rest on your laurels regarding The Juliet Letters. –Patch Atomz

THE SLACKERS

Peculiar (Hellcat-Epitaph)

THE AGGROLITES

The Aggrolites (Hellcat-Epitaph)

Back when I was going to school up in New Paltz, it was the mid-to-late 90’s, and it was like ska all the time up there, especially with kids in like Kingston and northern Ulster County for some reason. And not even good ska, either. They used to rock the wack shit like Goldfinger and the Pietasters and play in bands with names like Lettuce Boy. Then you flex some old school shit like Burning Spear’s Marcus Garvey and they be like, huh? Well, what I’m leading up to is that it’s been far too long since some quality ska has come down the pike. But I am pleased to clue you in that Tim Armstrong’s Hellcat Records is putting two-tone terrorism back on top of the priority list with new albums from the two best ska bands in America. First off is The Slackers straight out of NYC. Peculiar is their most political album to date, and while they still keep that classic roots ska flavor they’ve been perfecting since the Jammyland days, only they seem to have added this Big Pink-era Band steez to their breeze with a side order of Sandinista! And I’m really feelin’ that whole cover art with the Coney Island sideshow trip. There’s also some great fuck you’s to Bush on here as well, especially “International War Criminal”. This is definitely The Slackers’ best album since 1998’s The Question. Over on the West Coast, a new breed of rocksteady is rising up from the Pacific in the form of The Aggrolites from Southern California. I know, when you think of So Cal you automatically get bombarded with overblown tripe like No Doubt and Operation Ivy. The way they move on their eponymous second album and debut for Hellcat could easily be mistaken for some lost reel from John Holt’s studio. Hey Epitaph, when are you gonna put these guys together on tour, huh? I’d drive up to the Chance in Poughkeepsie to see that shit! –Ed.

CANDI STATON

His Hands (Honest Jon’s-Astralwerks)

Honest Jon’s is hands down the coolest record label in England, the product of Blur frontman and Gorillaz mastermind Damon Albarn’s excellent taste in music coupled with industry connections you can’t beat with a stick. Their acclaimed 2004 compilation of Southern soul queen Candi Staton’s greatest sides from the 1970’s ranks amongst the best the label’s catalog has to offer. And who would’ve thought the collection’s runaway critical success would yield one of the most unlikely comebacks in recent memory. Produced by Lambchop’s Mark Nevers, His Hands finds Staton in excellent voice on an album of sullen, beautiful country soul featuring songs written by the likes of Dolly Parton, Merle Haggard, Charlie Rich and the Bonnie Prince himself, Mr. Will Oldham. The sound is a direct descendent of Candi’s Muscle Shoals sessions and is undoubtedly her finest piece of music in at least 30 years. A must have for fans of country music and R&B alike. –Patch Atomz

ALOHA

Some Echoes (Polyvinyl)

Aloha sounds like the kind of live band that turns a packed crowd of mulleted hipster freaks into a no-wave ocean of comatose dream fiends. The lyrics on Some Echoes, the band’s fourth album, are a snore-fest and you’ll tune them out after ten minutes, but the musical exploration won’t let go if you find it’s got hands to wrap around your wind pipe. Cale Parks’ timbre is amber and hollow, attractive in a way that is John Vanderslice sans the esoteric sex appeal. Some of the songs overflow, some shutter through trite piano accompaniment that sounds like it was overdubbed from the balcony at children’s production of Frog and Toad; the keys seem to be walking without swinging their arms or skipping without whistling. But there are shining points: “Your Eyes” features a 21^st century Keith Moon parachute-drop style drum intro, fun Playskool keys and jumpy admixture of bass and guitar that builds a beautiful bridge toward eye-gougingly uninteresting lyrics about being content. Or something. Like I said I wasn’t really paying attention. “Ice Storming” is another gem. A sensitive, surprisingly well-versed vacuum of a song with layered instrumentation, pinged out high-hats, lyrics about a deer, power lines, hospitals and unsafe snowfall conditions. “Mountain” races as the album’s closing track with an altered sound that is exciting (finally!) and features a hip pulsing melody instead of another flagging song to fall asleep to. The vocal package, however, is bent awkwardly around the song’s hypergogic chorus. Despite the ambivalent, not-terrible/not-great review of Aloha’s newest disc, when I was done putting this album in my ears I felt less intelligent and very groggy. Goddammit! Another fucking sleepy, whispery, boring album filled with lyrical non-substance about dreams and shifting time. –Joseph M. Gerace

PRETTY GIRLS MAKE GRAVES

Élan Vital (Matador)

With a steady stream of well-deserved praise, Pretty Girls Make Graves offer their admirers a third LP. And as is nearly compulsory with a tenacious female frontispiece, Élan Vital’s energy and lyrics exude with sexuality: “Lying even while I came, two times darling.” But unlike Karen-O of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Andrea Zollo isn’t unafraid to reveal her vulnerability. Her best vocal track, “Parade,” commemorates the women’s suffragists of the early twentieth century and offers a rich, endearing side to Zollo’s vocals that instantly reminisce of Jenny Lewis. Throughout the album, Zollo’s carefully metered phonic cadences punctuate and even guide the rhythms at times. Musically, Pretty Girls reach a new complexity; with all musicians accredited to multiple instruments, the first listen doesn’t quite reveal the album’s layered densities. “Nocturnal House” spouts off with an intermittent whistle shriek as J Clark’s guitar climbs in free-flowing scales. Throughout the album, Clark proves the potency of a sparsely arranged keyboard. To his chagrin, though, “Pictures of a Night Scene” sounds like a bad parody of the “Halloween” theme song; “The Number” is also laden with too heavy a keyboard line, but this time to a less comedic effect. Never fearing the pseudo-experimental, though, Leona Marrs dictates the method of “Selling the Wind” as her accordion joins Fudesco’s bass; Clark’s guitar, meanwhile, works against this tide in a notably tight instrumental track that Zollo’s vocals fail to match. As thriving as her voice can seem at times, other times it is more ethereally bland, like on the ineffectual, “Pearls on a Plate.” At nine songs, a higher consistency is expected from the band. Pulling so strong out of the starting gate, the benchmark they set seems difficult to maintain. As the latter half of the album wanes, listeners almost forget the stark brilliance achieved in the first five songs. As hit-or-miss as the album can be, more songs are needed to get a sense of where the band’s headed. Hopefully, they won’t make us wait another 2 ½ years for the next release. –Michael Montesano

THE RAKES

Capture/Release (V2)

Point No. 1:

Let’s play a quick game called “Reassessing Radiohead’s Legacy.” Could it be the awe-inspiring legend of OK Computer and Kid A that fabricated the massive void that sonically arch-conservative neo-garage retreads have been lining up to bury themselves in over the past few years? Is “rock n’ roll,“ that rowdy, take no prisoners, stupid-is-the-new-smart kind of rock ‘n’ roll still up for the saving? How many of these bands are we going to have to sit through before someone in the dirty white towel of overcompensation? Well, for now, the answer is one more, and, predictably, they’ve got a stupid name. Pink flags held high, the Rakes have got the requisite surplus of bare-bones agit-punk chops and marble-mouthed pub-along hooks to spare, but there’s not a single moment on Capture/Release that doesn’t sound clinical to the point of sterility. When you wear these kind of influences on your sleeve, it’s hard not to sound obsolete, and cuts such as the underwhelming opener “Strasbourg” and the nauseatingly pristine “Violent” read like pages torn directly from the 70’s art-punk fake book that’s been making its rounds along the UK for the better part of the new millennium. I’m not trying to wreck anyone’s buzzcock; I like fun, too. And I’ll have my fun when NME burns to the ground and the survivors stop settling for this hack-eyed swill and say to themselves, “Hey, next time I want to listen to Wire, I’ll just put on Wire.” - Tom Whalen

Point No. 2:

Don’t waste your money for a cheap ride on the bandwagon. Go buy an album by The Clash. (We recommend Sandinista! –Ed.) –Joseph M. Gerace

SOULS SHE SAID

As Templar Nites (Dim Mak)

Beware, MTVmo is soon on its way out, and dance rock is about to invade your living room! Souls She Said win the award for guitar lines most representational of an Ipod-commericial, and combine irritating off-key sass-vocals with imprudently placed synth loops. Perhaps this record can serve its purpose being blasted at your local GAP retailer, or at the quasi-hipster bar in your neighborhood. But for those of you listening at home or on the road, this record doesn’t do much musically and offers at best some tunes for nouveaux-indie to shake it to in their local Urban Outfitters dressing room. Mall indie -two out of ten cans of Sparks. –Anthony Parks

POP LEVI

Blue Honey (Counter-Ninja Tune)

Any record that starts with the sound of a motorcycle revving is always a good sign. Davie Allen & the Arrows rode that hog into the sunset of many a Mike Curb Tower soundtrack. It’s good to hear that hog again. Pop is a full time member of Ladytron and the crazy collective Super Numeri. This EP is probably the best thing I have heard all year. The title track is sinister as Hell, with its menacing bassline and Bolan-like yelping. Pop totally absorbs the underbelly of that time period. All five tracks do not disappoint in the least. Just total 60’s drenched madness, beautiful melodies and guitar work throughout. “Skip Ghetto”, which appears differently mixed from it’s inclusion in Super Numeri’s awesome mix CD “The Enochian Way” is the highlight for me. I haven’t stopped humming the melody since I first heard it, and probably won’t for some time. This EP is the goods, folks. –Damien Napoli

VARIOUS ARTISTS

Exit Music: Songs With Radio Heads (Rapster-BBE)

Normally, tribute albums from a specialty label are the wackest pieces of feces on the planet. And when word got out that Rapster/BBE was dropping an album dedicated to the music of Radiohead, someone called a nurse to my house because they didn’t understand why my eyes were rolling in the back of my head like that. But Exit Music, surprisingly enough, actually turns out to be a pretty cool comp, one that finds a respectful variety of artists courageously taking on the challenge of discovering new routes in Radiohead’s already complex song structures. Among the best of the bunch includes an instrumental take on “Airbag” from RJD2, which is better than anything his home label Def Jux has released all year thus far. Then you have a wonderfully clubby re-take of “(Nice Dream)” from Matthew Herbert, on par with the music on his killer new album Scale. There’s also a version of this particular collection’s title track by the Cinematic Orchestra that reassesses the very core of the original’s epic nature to a new level of feeling. But the track I just can’t seem to get out of my head on here is Mark Ronson’s funky re-wiring of that indelible Bends anthem “Just” that reimagines Radiohead as disciples of The Time and Earth Wind & Fire as opposed to the Soft Machine and Boards of Canada. –Chester A. Arthur

VARIOUS ARTISTS/PREFUSE 73

Hefty Digest + Prefuse 73 Mixtape (Hefty)

For 10 years, Chicago-based Hefty Records have been doing their thing, which was to stay one step ahead of fellow Windy City labels Thrill Jockey and Chocolate Industries at any cost. The home of such forward thinking acts as Beneath Autumn Sky, Teflon Tel Aviv and Slicker (the alter ego of label owner and teen film progeny John Hughes), it has definitely managed to stay one step ahead of the competition with a signature sound that fused jazz, post-rock, hip-hop, minimalist club music and even avant-garde classical into a series of interchangeable parts that sounds so fluid mixed together by Prefuse 73 (who released the debut of his acclaimed blip-folk project Savath & Savalas on Hefty as well as the must-have Rolls and Waves EP). And if you dig what Mr. Herren’s spinning on this excellent mix, IRT suggests you hunt down a copy of the Reach the Rock soundtrack, which may not replace the soundtrack to papa Hughes’ The Breakfast Club in your childlike heart, but will make you all the more cooler in our book. Plus it has Tortoise on it. –Eli Whitney

GHOSTIGITAL

In Cod We Trust (Ipecac)

The man behind this album is Einar Orn. He is Icelandic. He was a member of the Sugarcubes and KUKL. He collaborates with some impressive names (Dalek, Mark E Smith (Fall)). He’s on Ipecac. This album is all over the place. I think all the above are supposed to make him an interesting artist, too bad it couldn’t help him make a good album. I’m not sure I get it or like it. Such is life. (Editor’s Note: If you wanna hear Elinar Orn at the peak of his powers, make sure you check out the two outstanding Sugarcubes DVDs Rhino Records has just released, the video anthology The Sugarcubes the DVD and the not-to-miss concert set Live Zabor. Goddamn, Bjork was a hottie back in the day!!!) -Marc Wasserman

T.REX

The Slider, Tanx, Bolan’s Zip Gun, Zinc Alloy Vs. The Hidden Riders of Tomorrow, Futuristic Dragon, Dandy in the Underworld, Works in Progress (Rhino)

Marc Bolan was a pure rock star. So was Thin Lizzy’s Phil Lynott. Ziggy-era Bowie was, too. Jimi Hendrix was one, but the Beatles weren’t. The key to pure rock stardom is in having an otherworldly, almost-cartoonish persona. It’s about more than just being born to be a rock—although that’s a large part of it—it’s also about creating a unique psychic space. With his Botticelli curls, fantasy-gibberish lyrics, amped up rockabilly licks and reverb-drenched ballads, Marc Bolan and T. Rex did nothing if not carve out a unique musical world. And for a brief golden period in the early 70s, Bolan dragged the rest of England into that world along with him. The Slider is the soundtrack to that magical moment and if you at all believe that rock and roll needs to be unreal to matter, that it flourishes on fantasy and escape, then it’s an album you need to have. The follow-up Tanx is only a step below, but it’s enough of a step to render the album only great, not transcendent. The power of Bolan’s music was inextricably linked to his popularity—it needed the energy of superstardom to thrive. As the fame slipped, so did the music. While the albums after Tanx have moments of brilliance scattered among them, they are unable, in retrospect, to escape the Gloria Swanson feeling. Bolan was treading water, with no real idea what to do when audiences stopped loving what he did best. Each release comes with a bonus disc of previously unreleased material, none of which is revelatory, most of which is disposable, some of which (chiefly on Slider) is great. The Works in Progress discs offers the astonishing discovery that Bolan even sang his demos as if he were trying to enchant the world. Listen to them, follow them back to Bolan’s earliest, all-acoustic material, then realize whose estate it is that Devendra Banhart should be sending royalty checks to. -David Marchese

SANTANA

Santana III—Legacy Edition (Columbia)

So we arrive yet again to Santana III, this time as a 2-disc release of the original recording with two previously unreleased tracks and a whole set Live at the Fillmore West—July 4^th, 1971. The album and live set feature the core lineup of Santana before they underwent the member-shuffle typical of supremely talented acts. Already symptomatic of this disparaging reality, Santana III features “17 year-old guitar prodigy Neal Schon and percussionist/songwriter Coke Escovedo,” which is nothing to disparage over (Columbia Records). It is with such talented acquisitions, it is no wonder this recording will not go quietly into that good shelf of Rock history. There’s only one major catch: on its second re-release, this just seems like Columbia’s trying to repackage the same material to suck your wallet dry. The live set is disappointing with mere repetition of album song list (with a few exceptions). Note: if you already have Santana III, do not buy this! But for the stragglers who haven’t copped this CD (including myself), and the young bucks looking to catch up on their fundamentals, it’s a necessity. On to the album: Batuka lights things up with paradiddles of percussion that tickle Dave Brown’s slumbering bass to wake as Santana’s cool guitar slides into the skeletal framework with force. These two counterparts then record a gentle interplay of chatter-on chatter-off until both instruments open up their Latin twangs full of vigor in “No One to Depend On.” The best session of this song occurs on the studio album (the first time, as this song recurs twice after). Santana himself tests out his vocal chops on “Taboo,” but to much more avail on the underrated track, “Everything is Coming Our Way.” “Toussiant L’ouverture” falls back on patterns of “Oye Como Va” with the collective vocals and intense instrumental spin-outs (though you could say that for most of Santana). While we’re on vocals, they lack seriously on “Everybody’s Everything” but the parceled solos never do. The latter quarter of the recording presents the previously unreleased songs that are totally amorphous and unmentionable with the exception of “Gumbo.” Earth to Columbia: there’s a definite reason this stuff was never released! Contiguously, no one can get high enough to listen to both discs, but taken one at a time they make a party necessity. –Michael Montesano

TIPTON, ENTWISTLE & POWELL

Edge of the World (Rhino)

GLENN TIPTON

Baptizm of Fire (Rhino)

Keyth Spit, the old music director over at WFNP, the FM station for SUNY New Paltz, used to be obsessed with Baptizm of Fire, the solo album by Judas Priest guitar god Glenn Tipton. I remember he phone bombed during my show so he could request his cover of “Paint It Black”, thus killing my mix in the interim. Having a bad speed metal version of one of the best Stones songs ever lumped into a set consisting of Pavement, Captain Beefheart and The Melvins left a nasty aftertaste in my mouth for Baptizm of Fire. When listening to the tape of that show ten years later, it doesn’t sound so bad, but that just might be my recent obsession with Sad Wings of Destiny talking. Had Tipton come out with the album he originally recorded back then, a once-in-a-lifetime session featuring John Entwistle on bass and Cozy Powell on drums that is finally seeing the light of day as a companion piece to Baptizm, that would’ve been another story. Some label asshole thought it would’ve been a bad idea for Glenn to record his solo debut with a pair of old dinosaurs. Now Cozy and The Ox are dead, and I urge Rhino sent a copy of Edge of the World to that dumb suit, suit just so he can be haunted by the most brutal power trio he’ll ever hear in his life. I want Entwistle’s blues-metal walks to echo in his nightmares for keeping this gem from the public all this time. Shit, I might just send him mine. Not. –Ed.

JENNY LEWIS AND THE WATSON TWINS

Rabbit Fur Coat (Team Love)

Ever read any Baudrillard? Like it? If so, you’d probably like this album, which does a great job of simulating the sound and feel of classic country music without retaining any of the integrity. Now, people can make whatever kind of music they want, but it sorta rubs me the wrong way when an ex-child star and current indie-darling gussies up her hyper-literate lyrics with backporch pickin’ and old-time gospel harmonies courtesy of the Watson twins and then expects me to take its seriously. The people who made the music Lewis uses as her template were usually dirt-poor, mostly rural, and certainly marginalized in the larger culture. The hardship they sang about was coming from an incomparably different place than Lewis’s. Accordingly, so was their sweetness. And if Lewis ends up doing a good job with the sounds–the album is a sterling formal triumph–she struggles with the meaning. All this thinking is making me dizzy. I need a nap. Heck, I’ll probably like Rabbit Fur Coat a whole lot more if I’m about to fall asleep. -David Marchese

MERLE HAGGARD AND THE STRANGERS

Strangers/Swinging Doors and the Bottle Let Me Down (Capitol)

I’m A Lonesome Fugitive/Branded Man (Capitol)

Sing Me Back Home/The Legend of Bonnie and Clyde (Capitol)

Mama Tried/Pride In What I Am (Capitol)

HAG/Someday We’ll Look Back (Capitol)

An old alter-ego of mine in college once indicated to a group of ne’er do wells that Merle Haggard was the type of guy who would drink your shot of whiskey and spit it back in your eye. That boy was a mighty smart motherfucka! He may not have smoked marijuana in Muskogee, but he’s done far worse elsewhere, as revealed across Hag’s amazing Capitol catalog, a good portion of which is featured on these handsome single disc two-fers of his classic albums with his group The Strangers. The best one here, of course, is HAG, which coupled with Someday We’ll Look Back kept the flame of old school country alive in the advent of the acid days of the early 1970’s. If you want to hear Merle at his most gangsta, however, go directly to his 1967 pair o’ aces, I’m A Lonesome Fugitive and Branded Man, which feature the kind of prison tales that would impress the most hard timed thug on the block. Don’t be a fag, and cop some of this HAG! –Cowboy Curtis

THE COUP

Pick A Bigger Weapon (Epitaph)

Calling Coup MC Boots Riley leftist is like calling Katrina a storm. His true talent is mixing the radical politics with down n’ dirty party funk and hip hop (DJ Pam the Funktress also deserves mucho credit). Nothing better sums up the Coup’s manifest then the chorus to “Laugh/Love/Fuck” off the new record. “I came to laugh, love, fuck and drink liquor and help the damn revolution come quicker”. Not only does Boots and the gang (which includes Tom Morello, Talib Kweli and Black Thought) brings the funk, but to those of you who think liberalism has no sense of humor needs to sit down and give “Let’s Have A Baby Before Bush Do Something Crazy.” The Coup knows that revolution without sex or fun is both counterproductive and pointless. Educate yourself, rage against the machine, but have fun doing it – Brad Filicky

MADLIB

Beat Konducta Vol. 1 and 2 (Stones Throw)

Dear Madlib,

It is my professional estimation that you really need to consider ditching the rapping and just stick strictly to beat making. Quasimoto sucks, dude. That whole high pitch voice thing only seems to work for Ween and that weird, fat gay guy from Howard Stern. It just sounds annoying coming from you. So unless you plan on getting Lootpack together and putting out an official follow-up to Tha Antidote, just keep that blunt in your mouth and your finger on the drum trigger.

Best,

Chester A. Arthur

ARIEL PINK’S HAUNTED GRAFFITI

House Arrest (Paw Tracks)

Everyone knows you can’t write an Ariel Pink review without boiling his sound down to an extensive and absurd simile. Lets get it out of the way early: Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti sounds like an asthmatic Stephen Merritt recording ragtime covers of Village Green outtakes underwater with Bob Pollard’s filthy gym sock, the masters of which someone’s mother accidentally put through the wash (twice) and instead of using Tide she used liquefied pixie sticks and exactly one liter of R. Stevie Moore’s urine. Unfortunately, the kind of surrealistic anti-categorization that Pink’s reclusive demeanor and zany artistic palate seems to beckon doesn’t quite give the dude the time of day. Pink is, after all, a solid tune-smith and while simply deciphering the hooks on a record like “House Arrest” is often half the fun, Pink doesn’t sound like he’s out to fool anybody. Like his psychedelic sponsors in Animal Collective (who have been clearing his vaults on their Paw Tracks imprint since 2004‘s The Doldrums) Pink wants to massage your buzz, not wreck it. These recordings burst at the seams with the humble attention of a man so driven to matching the music of his mind that he close-mic-beat-boxes his own percussion. Listening in on a record this self-serving is bound to teeter between intimacy and voyeurism but as Pink would probably tell you himself, thats the thrill of the chase, braw. -Tom Whalen

TUNNG

Mother’s Daughter and Other Songs (Ace Fu –US, Static Caravan –UK)

After a handful of mysterious 7” singles washed on the shore from the eerie UK duo, we finally have a proper full length. I know a lot of people are tired of the new folk movement in all of its forms. That’s nice. Go find some new fickle trend to suck on the proverbial teat of. I still haven’t gotten my fill yet (momma’s nip is all puckered like anyway and you guys bite too hard). I wouldn’t exactly call Tunng folk, however. It’s seems to be a vein of theirs that they cull some of their inspiration from sure. Sam Genders’ voice is distinctly British not only in tone, but in it’s history as well. There are folk traditions in the sounds and arrangement of this, but with a keen premonition of the future. There is more going on here is this murky, hope filled world that they have conjured up. I really love how the balance of acoustics and electronic squelches seems to ever be shifting, but never trumping the other. Dusty samples emitting from the ether, give the songs a sense of history well beyond the confines of folk, with lots of nice cut up effects on both the vox and the plucked instruments. Mike Lindsay’s programming is top notch, with just the right punch to it. Somebody get Joe Boyd on the horn and tell him to record these guys pronto. Some of these songs have appeared in previous singles, such as “Tale From Black”, a moody futuristic back porch foot stomper. Their lyrics seem to confuse, inspire, and mystify; many times in the same breath. “Code Breaker” is a great love song for the MENSA set, with its geeky analogies and shout outs to the quantum theorists of the world. “Kinky Vans” is my favorite of the bunch though. A beautiful instrumental track grooves and pulses with the best of what this genre has to offer. It is a wondrous, charming debut. Fans of Climax Golden Twins and The Books need to seek this out. Check out their sweet cover of the Bloc Party’s “The Pioneers” on 45. If you can, look for their early singles as well. I am gonna speak to my good friend Edward Bay; see what he can muster up. (Note to self: stop imagining auction websites to be Red in the Shawshank Redemption). -Damien Napoli

THE GOSSIP

Standing In The Way Of Control (Kill Rock Stars)

”So is Aretha Franklin fronting Bloc Party now?” Uh, no. But you can count on a college radio audience to give you the most honest reaction to a new track, and that quote’s taken straight from a phone call about the title track of the newest release from the Gossip. The recycled disco beat (you know, cowbells, dumb dyed black hair, lingers like a leech) of The Gossip’s latest title track conjures this very image with very little imagination. I still probably wouldn’t mess with Beth Ditto, but I’d bank on the fact that her mom is going to come downstairs to the garage any second and ask her to quiet down, just a little bit, sweetie. Unfortunately, I think she listened. The gritty opening riff purring into my ear on the first track, “Fire with Fire,” (let’s stay out of your big brother’s middle school cd collection, kids) gave me hope, but as it became monotonous, I decided that it must have been named “awesomeguitarriff2k6!” and adopted as a pet. “Coal To Diamonds” summons images of Michael Landon and a lady friend sorrowfully singing from the fields of Bonanza Ranch, which is both oddly comforting and disturbing. Channeling Sonic Youth briefly with “Eyes Open,” the album inevitably slides right back into sleazy pendulum octave guitars (don’t forget the cowbell!), making one wonder if these guys possibly mistook Fugazi recording engineer Guy Picciotto for Barry Manilow. “Keeping You Alive” is the only track that seems to have the perfect blend of handclaps, disco beats, and Ditto’s soulful vox, whic cuts cleanly through the overabundance of Studio 54 velvet ropes found on this album. But please, if you’re going to wax poetic with simple piano and bass, make sure they don’t sound like they’ve just met, because two different interpretations of the same note make this music teacher’s daughter say ouch. If I didn’t know how badass the Gossip can be, I’d let this slide and reserve it for such occasions where umbrella drinks abound. But even from just a sideways glance at previous releases from these honey punks, such as 2000’s gut-twisting That’s Not What I Heard, it’s clear that they’ve misplaced their “fuck all y’all!”. –Heidi Vanderlee

THE ALBUM LEAF

Into The Blue Again (Sub Pop)

Indie rock’s Schneider, Jimmy Lavelle, has brought his quieter side out of the closet again. This project always seems to bring out a more sentimental side to his work. Maybe because it is more isolated and personal in it’s approach. Sometimes isolation can be more of a curse than a blessing. Such is the case with the LP. The melodies and programming are well thought out, but to my ears seem a little derivative of the Icelandic scene. Obviously working with Sigur Ros has rubbed off on him, but he doesn’t seem to take the inspirations and settings and run with them. It all kind of just meanders at a mid tempo pace. Background music of this nature fits in nicely with all of the other downtempo electronic stuff that some quarter life crisis ex-raver would be dumping in your local second hand record store’s electronic section. Good luck with that. And while you are there, pick me up a 3^rd copy of Throbbing Pouch. –Damien Napoli

THOM YORKE

The Eraser (XL Recordings)

CALE PARKS

Illuminated Manuscript (Polyvinyl)

In lieu of his publicist’s absolute refusal to send us a copy of this album, the IRT still feels strongly enough about Thom Yorke’s phenomenal solo debut to have included it on this year’s List of Who Lives. Combining melancholy and mellotron with shimmering results, The Eraser holds its own against the sum of Radiohead’s post-OK Computer catalog, bringing a human caricature to a most android method of song. For further listening, please refer to the solo album by Aloha frontman Cale Parks, a trippy foray into beat sculpting that completely blows away the new LP from the man whose work he is deliberately biting off of, DJ Shadow. –Patch Atomz

BECK

The Information (Geffen)

Ever since I infuriated my parents by stealthily subscribing to a BMG mail-order service for the sole purpose of owning Beck’s Mellow Gold , the drugstore cowboy has held a solid slot in my top ten. But I have to say, dude’s been slipping lately … think I saw a nasty spat between him and Bjork for slot 7 or 8ish. Midnite Vultures kicks out the fake-gold jams, Sea Change is perfect passive-aggressive locked door music, and Guero … well, Guero mostly sits in the corner and gets used for bed music at my college radio station. I’d rather kids be listening to Guero over Worst! Band I’ve Heard in Years!, but for Beck? C’monnn. That being said, stakes weren’t high for The Information, which dropped on Interscope this year. So when I finally pried the Hold Steady’s Boys and Girls in America out of my stereo and gave myself some Information, my roommate bonked me on the head and asked me why I was listening to porno soundtracks. That being said … Beck may have forgotten his O.G. formula, but he’s achieved a pretty decent replica with The Information. Oh, and the track was anti-consumerist anthem “Cellphone’s Dead,” complete with dreamy, churchlike (calm down, no one said anything about Scientology) background vocals and that bossa nova thing he seems to be fond of. And hey, “Strange Apparition” has some Billy Joel pianos that I probably wouldn’t kick out of bed. “Nausea” was a relief when I spun it on my radio show as a single, because Beck still knows how to power up any song with the momentum of that circular acoustic guitar. However, I distinctly recognize those bells and window-rubs from another stellar single … everyone, all together: “You didn’t know what to say to yourself / Love is a poverty you couldn’t sell / Misery waiting in vague hotels to be evicted …” Those were the days! Download it; don’t buy it. Guest list it, if possible; don’t humor Ticketmaster. Beck, you’ve taught me the wonders of white-boy dancing and done more for uncool instruments than Weird Al. None of us would be the same without you … but it’s time for me to move on. –Heidi Vanderlee

NINA NASTASIA

On leaving (Fat Cat)

On a couple of tracks, I can barely keep it together. Is it the words, the voice, the solitary piano notes? “How I tire of waking from this dream/ are we wired to be always sad and wanting” from Bird of Cuzco” putting into words the loss I feel every morning. Nastasia captures the longing, the hopelessness of trying to hold on to someone. Plain words, “Things might not get better/ There, I said it.” Her voice is sometimes child-like, but never cloying. And she can swagger too, as on “One Old Woman.” I can talk about the great production and engineering, the natural sounds of the instruments, blah blah blah. What it comes down to is the crescendo on “Settling Sun,” and how it reminds me of something I’d like to forget but am happy to remember. “On leaving” reminds me that where I once had a heart, I now have an attitude. “Our innocence lost in the plan.”

–John Lefsky

HEARTLESS BASTARDS

All This Time (Fat Possum Records)

It seems like just months since The Heartless Bastards released Stairs and Elevators, maybe since it’s rarely left my CD player since the beginning of 2005. All This Time, the band’s newest release, only builds upon the promise of the first record, and makes an even bigger case for Erika Wennerstrom as one of rock’s best vocalists working today — period. A lot of ink has been splashed about Erika Wennerstrom’s voice, mine included, but sometimes, words turn on you, and refuse to do your bidding. It’s not that her voice defies description. It just lives, larger and more poignantly, than the two dimensions of paper (or computer screen) allow. In “Into the Open,” All This Time’s opening track, she

croons like she wouldn’t hurt a (dragon)fly before matching a soaring guitar line with a sound that comes straight up from her diaphragm like sonic gutshot Subsequent tracks showcase the band’s rapidly developing songwriting skills, and the overlapping interplay of bass and percussion (by Mike Lamping and Kevin Vaughn) allows the rhythm section to step out of the shadows and into the spotlight. For anyone who likes their rock hard, smart and a little disheveled, your saviors have arrived. -Alyson Mead

SUFJAN STEVENS

The Avalanche (Asthmatic Kitty)

After I tore my glassies away from the adorable album art featuring a Zissou-esque typeface and Sufjan Stevens as a marionette, I popped this new treasure from the Suf into my living room stereo and took a moment to giggle at the disc itself, which reads, “OH NO! OH MY!” Sufjan doesn’t strike me as a “holy fucking shit” kinda guy, so I thought it appropriate. The Avalanche serves as a supplement to Sufjan’s superhero release of 2005, Illinois, “shamelessly compiled” by the cheerleader himself. After a few listens, it’s obvious that “The Avalanche” isn’t meant to stand alone as an album, but it adds another dimension to Illinois by unveiling new interpretations of sparkler track “Chicago”, including the expected acoustic version, as well as “Adult Contemporary Easy Listening Version” and “Multiple Personality Disorder Version”. Seven Swans enthusiasts (hi, right here) will be transported back in time to a show at the Knitting Factory in 2004 when Sufjan was almost too shy to play, let alone lead cheers. The Avalanche reminds us of a simpler time, when Sufjan held onto his banjo for dear life and feathers alighted upon the heads of Sufjan’s curious audience, quickly charming them into devoted fans. Save for the intricate album design, these tracks could have been posted on his website as a nice little treat, but I’m never one to complain about new Sufjan. Besides, what are you going to listen to? Paris Hilton’s new single? Stars are blind, baby. -Heidi Vanderlee

VARIOUS ARTISTS

Jamaica to Toronto: Soul Funk & Reggae 1967-1974 (Light In The Attic)

The Jamaican Diaspora examined here yields different results than some might expect. This 16-song compilation starts with a James Brown rip in a Jamaican accent (Jo-Jo and the Fugitives’ “Fugitive Song” moves to Eddie Spencer’s Four Tops-esque “If This Is Love (I’d Rather Be Lonely)”, then shifts back to Jo-Jo for the Otis Redding-recalling “Chips-Chicken-Banana Split”. The idea that Jamaican artists will be playing reggae all the time is thus immediately shot down. The most famous here is Jackie Mittoo, one of the stalwarts of Studio One, but his “Grand Funk” is bursting with soul organ and fuzz guitar and, as you’d expect from a song so titled, a deep groove. It’s important to remember that reggae grew out of Jamaican performers putting their own spin on American R&B, and they could play the latter as well as they played reggae. There is some reggae: Johnnie Osborne’s guitar instrumental “African Wake” and Noel Ellis’s cover of Toots Hibbert’s “Memories”. One of the few covers here is the Cougars’ take on “I Wish It Would Rain”, with a reggae/African tint and one of the most brilliantly simple rhythm guitar parts ever, a dyad repeating one note with its partner shifting according to the chord, running through everything but the horn-heavy bridges. I swear I love it even more than the Temptations’ original version; it’s baffling that it had never been released before now. Heavy, heavy funk comes from Ram’s “Love Is the Answer” and The Hitch-Hikers Featuring The Mighty Popes’ “Mr. Fortune”. Other highlights: Lloyd Delpratt’s soulful organ instrumental “Together”, Wayne McGhie and the Sounds of Joy’s percolating “Fire (She Need Water)”, the Cougars’ profoundly funky instrumental-with-chant “Right On” and another exciting soul vocal by Spencer (“You’re So Good to Me”). No funk or soul aficionado should be without this CD, one of the best reissues of 2006. -Steve Holtje

DVD OF THE YEAR!

THE MINUTEMEN

We Jam Econo: The Story Of The Minutemen (Plexifilm)

Most documentaries about musicians seek to be the definitive statement on their subject. We Jam Econo succeed. From the first meeting between D Boon and Mike Watt to D Boons tragic death no stone if left unturned chronicling their rise from a high school cover band to punk rock heroes (if you are interested, it was D Boon’s mom who first told Mike to play bass). Their lasting influence is explored in interviews of many musicians and music industry types including Henry Rollins, Jello Biafra and Thurston Moore. Live footage shows how explosive the band was on stage and interviews with Mike Watt and George Hurly humanize the band and their working class roots. They were always iconoclasts, always pushing the music forward and always listening to their conscious as much as their heart. And while the Minutemen were not always understood, they were always respected. This film will show you why. RIP D Boon. -Brad Filicky

THE DECEMBERISTS

The Crane Wife (Capitol)

On their fifth LP, The Decemberists return with their signature folk-twang twist on modern rock. Sporting an arsenal of ivories such as the Wurlitzer and the Moog, the band goes through painstaking efforts to use the antiquated instruments that could often be mimicked by a found sound on a Mac program (particularly on “The Perfect Crime #2”). However, it is this sweetly historic atmosphere, specifically the 19^th Century/Civil War motif, that fans have come to know and love. The “You’ll Not Feel the Drowning” movement in “The Island” is particularly stirring with its thick tapestry of melancholic strings to accompany the main theme in its conclusion. Colin Meloy’s sharp alto is at its best when backed by Jenny Conlee’s gentle feminine touch, and at its worst his voice can be thin and grating. On the whole, this album is concentrically thematic and well rounded. –Mike Montesano

JOSHUA RADIN

You Were Here (Columbia)

Now here’s a guy who spent way too much time with the soundtrack to Garden State. Lucky for us, however, the end result is a beautifully down tempo collection of songs that recalls Death Cab’s more sullen moments and the solo work of Colin Hay. If guys like those recorded for Columbia, that is. –Patch Atomz

HOT MUTE

Hot Mute (Self-released)

Too many people sleep on ELO. That’s right, the Electric Light Orchestra (see review of their early 80’s reissues in Classic Rock –ed.), mother-effers. Jeff Lynne took his status as the 7^th or 8^th Beatle and pushed those Harrison-esque harmonies upwards into George Lucas territory…and pulled it off! Guitarist Mark Pistel, formerly of the pioneering 1990’s hip-rock act Consolidated, picks up where Lynne left off somewhere in 1982, throws in a little Candy-O by way of Working Class Dog vibe in there, and creates Hot Mute, thus soundly blowing away just about every hackneyed nu-wave act that has come out in the last 4 years. Not since The Pooh Sticks’ The Great White Wonder has rock ‘n’ roll sounded this meaningful. –William McKinley

SUBTLE

For Hero: For Fool (LEX)

Subtle appear to be aiming for the lofty goal of becoming underground hip-hop’s answer to Rush. Well, they got the singer with the ultra annoying voice down cold. Now all they need is someone who can play drums like Neil and git like Alex to bring the whole rock-rap revolution to a whole ‘nother stratosphere of being. This album is close, though. I can’t hate. -Eli Whitney

TANYA DONELLY

This Hungry Life (Yep Roc)

My third show ever at Roseland (behind Biohazard/House of Pain/Korn and Pavement/Guided By Voices/Dirty Three, respectively) was Belly and Superchunk I believe during the tour behind Belly’s 1995 sleeper classic King. Superchunk had Foolish out at the time, I believe. It was a great show, and reminded me of a time when modern rock was in the hands of responsible youths, before the ADD pandemic and the blog age. Now Tanya Donelly is back with a big, brassy country rock album cut live in the studio, and it is everything the Jenny Lewis CD could never be. Sorry, Jen. Loved you in The Wizard, though. –Patch Atomz

BLOWOFF

Blowoff (Full Frequency)

Based on the name and the two musclemen who adorn the cover, not to mention Bob Mould’s sexual persuasion, you would think that Blowoff is the gayest rock album to come out since, oh shit, did Dashboard Confessional put out that new album this year? But in actuality, Blowoff features some of Bob’s catchiest stuff since Sugar’s terribly underrated File Under: Easy Listening, which is going for like a penny on Amazon and can be found at just about any used record shop in the dollar bin. It is highly suggested you go out and dig for a copy if you don’t already have it in your collection. –Rusty Stab

ICEAGE COBRA

Brilliant Ideas From Amazing People (Self-released)

The whole stoner rock thing has pretty much run its course (some even say it left when Nick split from QOTSA). But Iceage Cobra manage to keep things fresh with a tough, colorful album that should not be ignored in spite of the silly name. Flexing a corn chowder of influences ranging from Thin Lizzy to the Melvins to Raging Slab, this Cobra definitely has some bite. –Grover Cleveland

THE STRAYS

Le Futur Noir (TVT)

Steve Marriott’s son, Toby, The Strays are his band. That much is clear. Are they making music on par with “The Autumn Stone” and “30 Days In The Hole”? Not exactly, but from his vocal phrasing on a track like “You Are The Evolution”, the kid’s a chip off the old block. Le Futur Noir is the album Bush could’ve made if they had the sac. –Millard Fillmore

EASY STAR ALL-STARS

Radiodread (Easy Star)

Corny. If Scientist got together with Horace Andy and did a strictly drop dub version of OK Computer with nobody else in the studio, then maybe…This, on the other hand, sounds like some reggae sunsplash rework that usurps just about every ounce of danger and paranoia in Radiohead’s original 1997 masterpiece. Hey Easy Star, you might’ve hit a mulligan with Dub Side of the Moon, but don’t get too cocky now. –Grover Cleveland