Remember when you had to actually pay for local music compilations? (Or records in general?) Lame. Well, now the Stranger has teamed with Limewire (one of the P2Ps that helped blow a hole in the whole "money for music" concept, now featuring a legit paid download site, the Limewire Store) to present a compilation of local artists that you can download for free. Just like Limewire 1.0, but without all the pesky RIAA lawsuits!

The tracklisting:

The Saturday Knights — "45"

Truckasauras — "Angels Sound Like Bottle Rockets"

The Pica Beats — "Infant Army"

Past Lives — "Beyond Gone"

Cancer Rising — "Evryday Bidness"

Pleasureboaters — "State of the Union"

Common Market — "Black Patch War"

Sleepy Eyes of Death — "Eyes Spliced Open"

Throw Me the Statue — "About To Walk"

The download is here, and there's some forfeit of firstborn child sign-up required.

When did “careerist” cease to be a biting accusation in the realm of underground music? When did every punk with a guitar decide that he/she deserved a living making music? Don’t get me wrong; it’s certainly noble to see hard-working acts reach a point where they don’t have to work temp jobs. No one wants to slave away for The Man. But isn’t it equally admirable to be financially independent of one’s art? To not worry about the audience, the business, the whole game, but rather to act on one’s whims and personal preference?

Athens, Georgia may have birthed hitmakers like REM and B-52s, but the sleepy little Southern college town also delivered Harvey Milk. Born in 1992, the band worked through the decade as little more than a local legend. They were the band that would open for Jesus Lizard when Yow and company would roll through town. It may not be fair to speculate on the degree of career ambition within their ranks, but gauging from their penchant for noise, their controversial moniker, and their inclination to fuck with people’s preconceived notion of their musical boundaries (demonstrated in stunts such as covering REM’s Reckoning album in it’s entirety), it seems safe to say that Harvey Milk had no intention of following Michael Stipe and Kate Pearson into the big leagues. The obscurity of the band almost seemed to be part of their charm. It wasn’t until they initiated their eight-year hiatus in 1998 that their reputation began to seep across Clarke County lines. Relapse Records released The Singles, a collection of their 7”s, in 2003 and in the process exposed the band to a whole new audience. Henry Owings and Chunklet Magazine began to sing their praises. Harvey Milk fandom developed into a mini-cult.

With their second post-hiatus full-length, Life… The Best Game In Town, the band has further solidified their cult status by enlisting underground low-end legend Joe Preston for bass duties and opting to work with the esteemed thinkin’-man’s-metal merchants at Hydra Head Records. Neither choice promises financial success, yet both decisions certainly helped garner more attention from the fickle and snobby noise rock community. While Harvey Milk’s business strategies frequently suggest a resignation of their marketability, their creative output speaks of a band liberated by their less-than-stellar prognosis. With no expectations weighing them down, they’ve managed to create a defiant yet remarkably palatable album. The production is surprisingly stellar, yet many listeners will probably find themselves checking their speakers during the latter half of “Death Goes To The Winner,” when measure upon measure of pummeling palm-muted eighth notes are buried underneath red-lined throbs of static. And though Harvey Milk’s predilection for mean mammoth-sized riffs guarantees an audience (albeit a small one) within the extreme music community, it’s their deviations from the sludge formula that makes their work more daring and respectable.

I speak from experience when suggesting that Harvey Milk’s occasional forays into light-hearted material is more likely to alienate and detract possible fans than to entice a larger following. My initial exposure to the band, The Singles, left me unsure of how to feel about them. Granted, their angrier material was exemplary, but their poppier moments were distracting. Again, the moments of major-scale melodies didn’t necessarily come across as calculated attempts at winning over a greater cross section of people. Rather, it seemed like a direct snub to the metal community. A middle finger towards people that expected only hate and anger from their favorite bands. A sense of humor tends to ruin the malevolent façade and it kept me from enjoying their work. Yet when Life… reaches it’s most radio-friendly moment with “Motown,” it becomes apparent that Harvey Milk’s embrace of pop is in some ways even more malicious than their bleak doom riffs. The upbeat nature of these moments seems more like a sneer, a deliberate demonstration of both the band’s ability to craft accessible music and it’s decision to reject it. It’s an admission that the band doesn’t fit in anywhere, even in the cliquey realm of underground music.

Life’s album artwork shows a rundown living room. Beer cans litter the coffee table. A beat-up Iron Maiden poster hangs on the wall. It looks like a young metalhead’s first apartment. This particular choice of artwork for a fifth album by a band well into its second decade of existence serves as an appropriate metaphor. There is no glamour in Harvey Milk. No constructed evil pretense. No aspirations. Just a bunch of dudes doing what they do and not giving a shit whether or not you like it. And they’ve managed to excel specifically because of that apathy

Harvey Milk play The Funhouse on July 31st

James Hetfield, via Blabbermouth:

"'Death Magnetic', at least the title, to me, it's… It had something to do with… It started out as kind of a tribute to people that have fallen in our business, like Layne Staley [ALICE IN CHAINS] and a lot of the people that have died, basically — rock and roll martyrs of sorts. And then it kind of grew from there. Thinking about death… some people are drawn towards it, and just like a magnet, some people are drawn towards it, [and] other people are afraid of it and push away. And the concept that we're all gonna die sometimes is over-talked about and then a lot of times never talked about — no one wants to bring it up; it's the big white elephant in the living room. But we all have to deal with it at some point. So that's kind of the subject matter."

Somewhere, the soul of Cliff Burton is hoping his name doesn't get dragged into any of this bullshit.

YouTube does the work for me by hosting Nas' "Sly Fox," one of the best singles off his new "self-titled" record (formerly known as Nigger).

It's one of many examples on the record where Nas raises his aim beyond intra-hip-hop beefs, though the thing that impresses me most on that track is Nas understanding his place in the world of corporation-owned media: "Bringin' up my criminal possession charges with a pistol / I use Viacom as my firearm ... who do you rely upon?"

--and it gets even heavier on "We're Not Alone," which kills with lines like this:

I used to worship a certain queen's police murderer / til I read the words of Ivan Van Sertima / he inserted something in me that made me feel worthier / now I spit revolution, I'm his hood interpreter

A few days ago, I talked to a friend who tried separating popular hip-hop with what he believes is the "real" stuff; underground, non-mainstream DJ and rap material. I replied that the reason many people aren't interested in that distinction is because of how hip-hop superstardom is different. KISS, Black Sabbath, even Marilyn Manson--those artists, as maligned as they all were in their prime by alarmists, were seen as outlandish, relatively inauthentic showmen, or at least a wild extreme. But it's amazing how many kids discover the "African-American experience" through hip-hop, where authenticity is often presumed. Most people who pay any attention know that's bullshit, whether a rapper is renting necklaces and hot cars for a video or coming up from the suburbs and naming himself Dr. Dre. But the presentation and marketing of hip-hop has been consistent since NWA's rise--shit's real, son. Is it? Nah, and the "positive" hip-hop backlash that occasionally bubbles up from the mainstream can come off just as phony, cast off by the authenticity-craving community as too weak. That's incorrect most of the time, but the market speaks.

I say this because what I get from this Nas record--at least compared to his mainstream peers--is a pretty good split of the difference. Here, Nas' educated perspective on the stasis of African-American influence is presented with fire, with hunger, with a desire to fight and take shots and cast himself, yet again, as hip-hop's martyr. Only this time, he's not concerning himself so much with mere beefs; no obvious attacks against folks like Kanye. He takes on his own record label. He takes on Rupert Murdoch. He takes on the concept that all Americans, "all ethnicities, colors and creeds, [are] niggers, blind to what's really going on."

Nas hasn't exactly been a coke-slinging, gang-banging artist on past records, so I don't point out his fiery perspective as if he's turned a new leaf. More so because he wanted so badly to title this record Nigger, and his desire to explore that word and its impact informs pretty much this disc's entirety. Nas' heightened paranoia and examination confirm that he wanted to hit this one out of the park, and based on my first few listen-throughs, he does. Fewer guest spots. A strange production progression with beats that start out positively ancient and synthy--like they'd been cribbed from Michael Jackson's Bad--and crank harder and harder as the disc goes on. And lyrically... I'll end this first-impression with the chorus of the stunning "Y'all My Niggas," as much about the word as about Nas himself.

Tryin to erase me from y'all memory, too late, I'm engraved in history / Speak my name and breathe life in me, make sure y'all never forget me / Cuz y'all use my name so reckless, whether it be accepted or disrespected / And I love it, especially when I do it in public, and I'm the subject / Cuz y'all my niggas

London's BBE Music has released some of my favorite records the past few years. From Dimitri From Paris's Cocktail Disco and Disco Forever compiliations, to The Million Dollar Orchestra's Better Days LP and Jerome Derrajdi's The American Boogie Down, BBE Music has consistly been supplying rare and classic disco, funk, and boogie gems for our newer generation. This past month, they added another great release to their ever expanding catalogue with Kon & Amir's 2nd Off Track Series release, titled Off Track Volume 2: Queens. This new compliation features some very rare disco and boogie treasures, including Venise's "Don't Think About it", Phillip And Lloyd's "Keep On Moving", Trama's "Straight Groove", as well as some solid edits bof Sweet Touch's "Live It Up", Sparkle's "Let Yourself Go ", and Wood Brass And Steel Band's "Long Live Music". These titles, individually, could cost quite a lot on your pocket book, however, once again BBE Music releases another solid compilation in Kon & Amir's Off Track Volume 2: Queens that puts them all in one very fitting and convient place. BBE releases tend to move fast, so I highly recommend picking up a copy while supplies last.

Download Phillip And Lloyd's "Keep On Moving" from Kon & Amir's Off Track Volume 2: Queens compilation plus more by visiting this site.

Now go buy the record!

The second effort from Strokes guitarist Albert Hammond Jr., ¿Cómo Te Llama? can be streamed here. On first listen it already sounds better than his first release and the last Strokes record.

According to the front page of Myspace, the new Melvins record Nude With Boots is supposed to be streaming on their page, but it isn't. Don't tease, Buzzo.

That's Terry Teachout, theater critic for the Wall Street Journal, Louis Armstrong and H. L. Mencken scholar, and all-around bright guy, on the 15th anniversary of Exile in Guyville.

Read the rest of his smart, melancholy post on Exile (including thoughts about the Rolling Stones, Kingsley Amis, and being an old-ish person excited by young persons' music) here.

The Saturday Knights' Mingle is out today. You can buy it and flip over it like I have been for weeks. If you wanna peep it online first, check The Old Kentucky Blog, who's got the first 6 tracks for your audio pleasure. Then, hit the KEXP Blog to hear the rest. Once you've done that, take your ass to the store and cop what is IMHO the illest Seattle album you will hear all year.
Bang the bass. Fuck the neighbors.

After several listens in the car and one run-through with a buddy trying to figure out what the samples were, it was time to test drive Feed the Animals on an un-expecting group of house partiers. In a controlled environment, actually listening to Feed the Animals, it has proven itself a respectable follow-up effort. Similar testing last year with Night Ripper showed general enthusiastic approval and scattered-to-full-blown dancing.

The scene: a small house party in the Sand Point neighborhood. The evening’s drink special is Kool-Aid and Everclear. It tastes just fine. Several people are involved in engaging matches of foosball; mostly there are conversations in the kitchen and casual drinking. Around 1:00am the stereo goes silent and Girl Talk is introduced to the environment. There is another gentleman looking to choose the music selection as well, he waits. At first the partygoers do not acknowledge the music, then speculative looks begin appear on a few faces. The album is lightly discussed as it plays - interested parties are given a bit of back story about what they are hearing. Occasionally heads bob with an up-tempo sample, but the momentum built rarely lasts more than a few seconds, then the heads stop bobbing. Only one person is genuinely interested in the record, a timid Irishman who sits next to the speakers so he can give the album his full attention. Occasional sections are hits – Jay Z and Radiohead, Metallica and Lil Mama. The guy who wanted to put something else on keeps walking over to the iPod and checking how much time is left. About 30 minutes in he turns the record off and puts on KMFDM. The guys playing foosball applaud his selection. It is unclear how much, if any, of the applause is because he put something else on.

I just got this press release, spreading news about the first ever chocolate record:

Some of you may have heard but for those who haven't, Innerpartysystem is releasing a 7" of their single "Don't Stop" in the UK, and it's on chocolate and fully functional! The Pennsylvanian group will become the first band to ever release their single on chocolate, and have limited the run to 100 copies.

Here it is in action:

0:00: You can’t start much stronger in 2008 than “International Players Anthem.” Pimp C RIP.

1:28: “Walk it Out” over what sounds like the music from Final Fantasy (not the band Final Fantasy).

3:20: First Lil Wayne appearance. Nice.

5:55: “Girl/Boy Song.” Man, this is gonna sound great if he lets the Aphex Twin beat break.

6:55: He doesn’t, though. Instead it cuts to “Young Turks,” which works fine.

7:20: In fact, Ahmad sounds poignant as hell over Rod Stewart. That’s a good move.

8:30: Blackstreet over “Flashing Lights.” Weird mental images of homicidal video ho offing a piano playing pupper.

10:40: Ace of Base.

11:40: “Here Comes My Baby” and “I Get Money.” That piano line kills in dude’s live show.

12:06: Beastie Boys riff into Busta Rhymes and an ‘80s track I should know better. Sounds totally dizzy and awesome.

14:14: “C.R.E.A.M.,” of course. This song kicks off one or two of Scientific American’s Mass.Dstrction mixes, which are worth checking out if you’re into this sort of thing—they’re a lot mellower/glitchier than our man Gillis, but still pretty fun, especially live.

15:15: “Forever-ever?”

15:45 That same Jackson 5 from the last Girl Talk, this time over Queen. You know, speaking of Scientific, one thing that's interesting about his mixes is how each installment kind of builds and remixes the last. Each one is more like an iteration than a sequel. I kind of wondered how much of that would happen with Feed the Animals, how much Gillis would plunder his own old source material for new tracks here. So far, not so much.

16:30: Paranoid hustler Android. Perfect.

17:00: "And most importantly, you, the customer" So, how much did everyone pay of the this thing, anyway? And if you paid nothing, what excuse did you give?

18:56: “Come on Eileen” as early hip hop block party.

20:00 Missy Elliot over “I Can’t Wait”—more block party vibe. (Now would be a good time to plug Capitol Hill Block Party, I guess. Girl Talk’s here for it July 25th.)

21:13: Prolific samplers Public Enemy give way to the Andrea True Connection sample from Len’s “Steal My Sunshine.” Oh, Girl Talk, you’re so clever.

21:42: In fact, going from “More More More” to “Put That Pussy on Me” to “I Want You to Want Me” is pretty clever. This is the part of the mix where things get sexy (perhaps Gillis takes his shirt off).

22:19: Hey, Eminem actually sounds really good when he sneaks up on you out of context.

23:30: More Beastie Boys, sounding a little chipmunky.

24:04: ODB RIP. “Ghetto Superstar,” another heavily sample-dependant jam.

25:17: Metallica. God, people are going to get hurt this Block Party.

27:52: My timing may be drifting way off, but “Sexy Boy” is a hell of synth riff, always. And is that the intro groaning from "Connection" in the background?

29:40: There's that Of Montreal track Girl Talk remixed.

A disclaimer: My timing may be totally fucked. I should've organized this track by track. Whatever. Further thoughts:

-Even in this context, I don't want to ever hear "Low" again.

-I do, however, want to hear "Music Sounds Better With You." Maybe even in its entirety.

-"Lithium" sounds great, always. Have I heard it mixed with "Push It" before somewhere, though? Maybe Girl Talk's Chop Suey show? Do you think he'll still close with "Scentless Apprentice"?

-Nice "God Only Knows" loop, but I could've stood for it to play out a little.

-R.Kelly and Chicago house go together like pee and underage girls.

-"Hustlin'" slammed up against "Rebel Rebel." God, I'm already totally exhausted by this thing. Oh, there's "Doo Doo Brown." Oh shit, here's "Boyz." Fuck.

-Soothing Cranberries Ireland tourism tv commercial riff.

-Quad City DJs

-"Since U Been Gone" totally slays. I'm sorry. Its chorus is like "Don't Stop Believin'" levels of anthem, even if its total Wal*Mart rock. I wonder if people will want to hear it at dance nights 20 years from now.

-Ok, this jazzercize pumped version of "Jessie's Girl" is too much.

-"Born Slippy"—man, that is another track I might just go listen to in its entirety after I wrap this up.

-The inevitable Soulja Boy. ("YOUUU!") Now with electric guitars.

-More Weezy: "Lollipop" (man, I am so not into that song—I understand, from a commercial perspective, why it exists, but it still totally stifles all the best parts of Wayne, turning him into r&b robot where he once was freestyle rap Martian) made maudlin by Red Hot Chili Peppers (I think) acoustic guitar balladry.

-And the outro is..."International Players Anthem." Well done.

Final thoughts after this first listen: Of course, it doesn't shock and awe like Night Ripper, which just took Hollertronix and 2 Many DJs to such an absurd level that it was kind of unfathomable, and unfuckwithable, at the time. In fact—and this may just be the result of obsessively cataloging this thing or it may just be the record—nothing really stands out now that I think back on the last hour or so. There are some good cuts in there, sure, but I can't think of a moment as skin-tingling as Biggie rapping over "Tiny Dancer," for instance. I know Girl Talk is really big on the "I'm not a DJ" thing, but absent the surprise factor of Night Ripper, this thing feels a lot less like an original album than a really hyperactive mix CD. I still expect Girl Talk to be completely bananas live, of course—his live show easily ranks in my top 10 of the past few years—but I'm not sure on first glance how hard I'll be pumping this record this summer.

Girl Talk - Feed The Animals

Any price grants the download of the entire album as high quality mp3s. $5 or more includes the album as high quality mp3s, plus the album as one long track, which is how Gillis intended for people to listen to the album. $10 or more includes all of the above and a packaged CD when its available in September.

Girl Talk plays the Capitol Hill Block Party Friday July 25th

Wolf Parade At Mount Zoomer (Sup Pop)

"Call it a Ritual"

"Language City"

Wolf Parade play Sub Pop's anniversary party July 13th at Marymoor Park

Coldplay Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends (Capitol)

Watch the video for "Violet Hill" from the new album:

Silver Jews Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea (Drag City)

Hear three new songs from the album at the band's MySpace, and click here to see the Silver Jews perform live for pitchfork.tv.

Tilly and the Wall o (Team Love)

"Pot Kettle Black"

Tilly and the Wall play Neumo's Saturday, July 5.

My Brightest Diamond A Thousand Shark's Teeth (Asthmatic Kitty)

"Inside a Boy"

Pause & Play has more new releases. There's also a new Reggie and the Full Effect album out today called Last Stop: Crappy Town. But from the handful of songs I've heard, it should just be called Last Stop: Crappy.

Jeff Kirby's mom and Michealangelo Matos gave the Fleet Foxes damn near identical reviews.

Kirby's Mom:

“What about Fleet Foxes? You liked them, right?”
“Eh,” she mutters, “Parts.”

Matos:

That very elusive wispiness they've captured in their sound is in the songs, too—the parts are more memorable than whole verses, for example.

Spooky, right?

Cloetta Paris has finally released full length CD, Secret Eyes, after months of waiting and having only the songs uploaded on myspace to listen too.

And it's great! This is your summer jam folks, Cloetta and partner Roger Gunnarson (aka Clive Reynholds?) will get tired of the comparisons, but it's impossible not to mention Sally Shapiro and Johan Agebjorn in the same sentence.

But that's probably because their all good friends who have written songs for each others albums. (Clive Reynolds or Roger Gunnarson, whatever name he goes by, wrote "Anorak Christmas", Sally's breakthrough. He has also contributed the new Sally single "He Keeps Me Alive" to her remix project, available on iTunes, with a killer Skatebård remix!)

Back to Cloetta. The new CD mixes the various genres of italo together into a frothy topping of dance grooves whose cherry on the top are Cloetta's perfect vocals. From the stuttering shuffle of "Broken Heart Tango" to the italo-rap track "Beat Street" you'll be nodding your head in a "yeah I know this tune!" way, even though you've never heard these tracks before.

I'm blown away at the creativity behind the making of this new retro classic. There's a great key-change in the first track "Did We Collide" that seems only possible coming from the 80's, but is perfectly original today. And I'm just a little obsessed by their cover of ELO's "So Serious" from their Balance Of Power album.

Check out the Myspace page for some listens and free(!) downloads.

Then, for right now, go to Skywriting Records site to order a copy for yourself. (Yes, there is a NW connection. Skywriting is out of Portland.)

You won't regret it.

I couldn't quite roll with Low Motion Disco at first listen. Sure, I liked the Still Going remix of "Love Love Love," but the first time I put on the duo's upcoming full length, Keep It Slow, I found myself listening to the first 30 or 45 seconds of each track, then skipping ahead to find one with a discernible groove (the most immediately winning was late in the album epic "People Come in Slowly"). Of course, I rather missed the point completely.

In their press materials, Low Motion Disco explain themselves thusly:

...we have developed a way to dance while not moving. We do it standing at a bar, or sitting on a sofa, in a car, wherever. While doing this, we groove and shake like hell, it just doesn't show on the outside. This technique is the basis of all we do. We call it "low motion disco."

Obviously, anyone with that awesome of an artist's statement gets another few listens, and on repeat spins—at home, on my headphones over pho, wherever—the album has totally grown on me. It is, essentially, a chill-out record—only a couple songs have dance floor ready beats by even the most cosmic standards of disco—but it's the good kind of chill out record, groovy and minimal and playful without being cheesy (even an interpolation of the 5 Stairsteps' "Ooh Child" works). And there are grooves here, they're just, you know, slow moving enough as to be imperceptible at first. There are little disco signifiers, too—congas, wet wah-wah guitars, loose bass—but they're dubbed out and drenched in reverb until they become only the ghost image of disco. Elsewhere, field recordings of nature or odd vocal samples further distance the record from disco, setting moods more pastoral or abstract, respectively.

Low Motion Disco keep a blog at lowmotiondisco.wordpress.com, they have two 12"s for "Love Love Love" out on Eskimo Recordings, who will release Keep It Slow on June 24th. In the meantime, you can find a few of their tracks via Hype Machine.

Obelus - Montana.

There is not enough green vinyl in the world. There are also not enough ambient collections of music that actually work. Obelus’ Montana is a long, open, sifting piece of sound. The green vinyl limited release is out on Seattle / New York based Conduit Records and it’s waiting to seep out of your speakers.

Work might not be the proper word. Montana diffuses its way into your inner ear. It’s instrumental and in many ways experimenting. It works in that it gets into your thoughts and induces. The Obelus duo of Jason Goessel and Adam Pessl composes samples and beds of sound. They have a way of making their electro-acoustic manipulations interact and spread out while remaining intact. Guitars and synths are elongated and ruffled with clatter. There are places where Montana is broken up, yes, but those places are inspected, with whiskers, and scraped, then brought back into the whole.

Ambient albums are a unique division of music. Mountains and Mogwai’s quieter moments come to mind as examples that require repeat plays. Rachel’s Systems and Layers and Miles Davis’ Panthalassa as well.

Ambience that works isn’t played. It’s something that lives in your speakers and ears. Obelus’ Montana is alive and well.

One night roughly 14 years ago, back when Pioneer Square’s weekend meat-market Trinity was still the Velvet Elvis theater, Greg Anderson graced the tiny stage as the singer/guitarist for Engine Kid. Their dynamic set culminated with a cacophonous climactic finale. With amps at full volume, drum heads pock-marked from repeated battery, and audiences’ earplugs wedged deep into ear canals, Greg pulled off his guitar, set it on the floor, pulled out a package of firecrackers, and set them off on his instrument. The racket was immense. My mind conjured images of Jimi Hendrix on his knees, dousing his guitar with lighter fluid, and beckoning the flames as his amp roared behind him. But Anderson upped the ante with explosives.

With the benefit of hindsight, that destructive moment seems less of an homage to Jimi and more of an embrace of the 20th century’s obsession with the happy accident. What exactly does a packet of firecrackers sound like when it’s amplified through a Marshall half-stack? There’s only one way to find out, and why not unlock that mystery in front of an audience? In the realm of music, perhaps the most noteworthy employers of this spontaneous venture are the jazz players. Kerouac mythologized Charlie Parker’s impossible blunder, that incorrect note that bred Bop, and that limitless world of pushing for chance discoveries and new sonic territories. Of course, it’s doubtful that Anderson had The Bird in mind when he blew up his guitar, but I wonder if the course of history would still have led him to shove a pack of firecrackers in his back pocket on the way downtown if Parker had never bleated that twisted note.

Continue reading "Relating Dudes To Jazz" »

Billboard reports today that the new Girl Talk record, Feed the Animals is due out "on the Internet over the next few weeks" via Illegal Art with a pay-what-you-want pricing scheme sampled from Radiohead (mashed-up with NIN, possibly with Saul Williams a capella over the top). The album will be 55 minutes long, contain over 300 samples, and be "more over the top" and feature "more in-your-face classics" than Night Ripper, which just boggles the mind.

Girl Talk plays the Capitol Hill Block Party on Friday July 25th.

A few nights ago my iPod shuffled and dealt me an old song I'd forgotten just how much I loved: "The Mule" -- a restless, glassy tune packed with more exuberant left turns than a Mudede blog post, written and recorded by Eureka Farm at some point in 1999. It's the sixth track on this astounding album...

...The View.

Hearing "The Mule" summoned all kinds of involuntary twitches -- clear memories of living in Bellingham in the late 90s and watching a tiny but tireless community of musicians form, dissolve, and reform groups like kinetic molecules endlessly breaking down and recombining. Eureka Farm started life as Shed, fronted by a guy named Arman Bohn, and featured Nick Harmer on bass and Ben Gibbard on drums. When I saw the band for the first time in late '96 or early '97 on WWU's main campus, it was their final gig as Shed and their first with a new drummer named Jason McGerr. Eureka Farm's first record Analog appeared shortly thereafter....

Continue reading "Eureka Farm's "The View" (1999)" »

This is Tom Bailey...
Who is Tom Bailey? Remember the Thompson Twins? Remember the lead singer? That's Tom Bailey. 15 years after his brief but exciting career in pop, Bailey established a dub project called International Observer. The project's first release, Seen, has this as its significant achievement: an ambient dub that takes echo effects/art very seriously. Most ambient artists use echo effects only to make their music sound dreamy--the dub is merely cosmetic. International Observer, on the other hand, used echo art to inspire visions of the cosmic. It was as if you were looking at a star nursery through a wilderness of gas and dust--brilliant explosions here, the cracking of moon ice there, the dark drones of deep space everywhere. Seen was released in 2001.

In 2007, International Observer released Heard, which is a more layered recording--more trumpets, more percussions, more riddims. Seen is only better because it's light on the layers and heavy on the dub effects.

What do we learn from Bailey? This is how you end a sunny career in pop: in the twilight of dub.

Weezer Weezer (aka Red Album)

A "my first listen" review to come later this afternoon. For now, enjoy the first single (which has been posted on Line Out before), "Pork and Beans."

Ladytron Velocifero

Here's what Eric Grandy had to say about the new album in last week's U&C section (when the band came to town, playing the Showbox):

Ladytron's forthcoming album, Velocifero, delivers more of what you've come to expect from these impeccably coiffed electro rockers post Light & Magic: Perfectly polished shoe-shopping music that doesn't always manage to follow you out of the Urban Outfitters. That's fine—people need shoes, after all—and the album's handful of superior songs, like the lilting (and appropriately haunting) "Ghosts" or the Depeche Mode–meets–Add N to (X) analog machinations of "Black Cat" or the dark, looming "Predict the Day," pleasantly recall the band's earlier highs.

Ladytron - "Ghosts":

Fleet Foxes Fleet Foxes

Fleet Foxes finally follow up their debut Sun Giant EP with their much anticipated full-length (out on Sub Pop). They're probably going to be really famous. Fleet Foxes play Sub Pop 20th anniversary show Saturday, July 12 at Marymoor Park.

Fleet Foxes - "White Winter Hymnal"

Shearwater Rook

Sam Machkovech gave the album a three-and-a-half star review in this week's paper. And excerpt:

...the band's fifth LP finds them setting sail from their Southern-gothic folk-rock approach and lapping at European shores with the gentle ebbs of a tide. If the opening song's any indication, running aground wasn't so quaint: "As the splinter flies apart, to your bow, to the biggest wave/but your angel's on holiday/and that wave rises slowly and breaks," Meiburg weeps in his striking falsetto, before the song imitates the crash, harp and horns and strings and feedback and wooden bits of ship all asunder.

After that, the record flows like water over rocks, moonlight gleaming on the surface (like the sound of tinkling xylophone above a cushion of cellos in "Leviathan, Bound"), without abrupt starts or stops. It's Shearwater's first full departure from folk songwriting roots—even memorable rockers like "Rooks" and "The Snow Leopard" avoid choruses and central repetition, allowing the band's most lush instrumentation yet to warble on, building momentum like a classical arrangement.

Shearwater - "Rooks"

Visit Pause & Play to see what else is in stores today, like the new "Journey" record, Kaskade, and Subtle.

Strut is one of the labels I've been following pretty closely over the past couple of years. You've probably seen the Disco Not Disco compilations, or possibly the incredible Block Party Breaks compilation which beautifully packages the vibe of the pre-hip-hop soul and disco era, with its impeccable curation of tunes and precisely written liner notes (with lots of pics! Which always makes comps like those worth every penny.)

For a while Strut was a self contained label, releasing its own comps by DJ greats like Danny Krivit and Ashley Beedle, often releasing those comps of hard-to-find classics on freshly minted vinyl, a hat tip to the many DJ's that collected their records, voraciously devouring them, ingesting them and playing them out for the masses. Strut was a big player behind the scene of the Disco resurgence in the last few years.

Unfortunately, Strut couldn't figure out how to keep releasing great value comps in the diminishing record business. So with little fanfare they closed up shop in 2003. Sadness.

Thanks can be given to German label group K7! who recently revived the boutique collectors label with a flurry of fantastic new compilations. Word to the wise, though. These comps seem to fall out of print VERY quickly. In fact, the below Kid Creole comp is already out of print and unavailable, so if you see a copy in a local record store (they are scattered throughout the city, I've checked!), pick them up!

The best of the new bunch starts with Going Places: The August Darnell Years, 1975-1983. August Darnell's checkered past has him starting out in Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band, where his brother Stoney Bowden, the bubbly band leader, vibe-man Andy Hernandez (aka Coati Mundi),and Cory Daye, the woman with the most effervescent singing voice in the late disco era, created some of the smartest most provacative music of the '70's. Though the confines of the Big-Band/Disco group forced Darnell and Hernandez to search out ways of making bigger contributions to music history on their own.

With Michael Zilkha, owner of ZE records, Darnell began a string of productions that would be the foundation for much of what ZE became known for, including Kid Creole And The Coconuts.

This is not a "greatest hits" its more of a representation of the work that August Darnell put into these various artists, and the variety of sounds he got: from the post punk "Is That All There Is?" by Christina (which caused writers Leiber and Stoller no end of consternation), and the showtune disco of Don Armonado's 2nd Ave. Rhumba Band and their hard-to-find cover of Irving Berlin's "I'm An Indian Too", to subversive Kid Creole classics like "He's Not Such A Bad Guy After All".

Full of great photos from the New York post-punk era, the only thing that bothers me about the compilation is the breathless essay by critic, Vivien Goldman, whose evocation of period throws actual history out the door, and makes Darnell's past a flurry of confusing set points.

Outside that minor detail, this is a fantastic compilation. One every ex-punk who finds themselves tapping their feet to the sounds of M.I.A. or Ella Fitzgerald can get into.

Continuing with the newest compilation on Strut, Disco Italia: Essential Italo Disco Classics, 1977-1985. Compiled by Steve Kotey of Bear Entertainment (purveyors of Bear Funk Records) with sleeve notes by Bill Brewster of Djhistory.com this collection provides the opposite, a mixed bag of selections with killer sleeve notes.

Here we're given gems, most for the first time available on CD - EVER! Claudio Simonnetti's Kasso makes an appearance (although with the minor hit "Brazilian Dancer") as does D.D. Sound (aka the Biondi Bros.) and Easy Going (another Simonnetti project, though once again, the less influential "Do It Again" is chosen). Even with those minor slips we're given Five Letters "Tha Kee Tha Tha" for CD debut with the most incredible bass-line and brass fanfares. And what compilation of Italo Disco would be complete with out a track by Kano (my fave, "Now Baby Now", which still is one of his lesser hits)?

A virtual goldmine, which could have been better with less obscure choices, but non the less gives you the essential feeling of "melody" that was so present in Italo Disco and what gave the genre its popularity in Europe as Disco started to wain here in the states. And with tracks like the Kano selection and "Tina Are You Ready" by Valentine, the connection to early house music is cemented in audio form.

One word about both these comps: iTunes.

Both are available on iTunes, but in edited formats. The Disco Italia is missing 5 tracks by the most influential names (so no Kasso, Easy Going, Kano or D.D. Sound or Firefly), but added on is the rare Gepy And Gepy track "African Love Song" (a favorite of TJ's).

The Kid Creole download is missing Dr. Buzzard's "Sunshower" and "There But For The Grace Of God Go I" by Machine.

One more thing: in a nod to its past Strut has released a limited 12" of 3 of the tracks on the Disco Italia compilation. It is already sold out and going for a premium in Europe, but there are at least four copies in Seattle. 3 at Easy Street on Queen Anne and 1 at Sonic Boom. So if you're a fan of Italo, and a vinyl junky, invest today.

In this week's Stranger, I review Joan of Arc's latest album, Boo Human:

For Joan of Arc's 11th studio album, Tim Kinsella booked a week of studio time with some songs in mind and posted a signup sheet for his many musical collaborators to come and go as their availability allowed. It's hardly the band's first dabbling in oblique recording strategies—previous experiments have included an album featuring one single uninterrupted piece of music (The Gap) and an album of guitar duets arranged by drawing names from a hat (Guitar Duets).

Scheduling shifts sounds like a setup for alienated labor and a scattered, workmanlike record. But sonically, Boo Human is as cohesive as any Joan of Arc record —take that as you will—dominated by acoustic or gently electric guitars and Kinsella's great, grating voice but accented with drums, studio effects, and the occasional odd instrument. Lyrically, it's as densely tangled as anything the prolific Kinsella has written. Some familiar obsessions show up. "9/11 2" deploys war-on-terror terminology as personal dread (see also In Rape Fantasy and Terror Sex We Trust and Joan of Arc, Dick Cheney, Mark Twain); "Insects Don't Eat Bananas" frames existential angst as tension between science and religion—man is an insect, man is a monkey, god is either a figment or a bug- squashing brat (see also The Intelligent Design of...).

Another theme emerges throughout the album, though: a fascination with those areas that are unexamined, and maybe ultimately unknowable, in ourselves and others. The album-closing solo acoustic number "So-and-So" is a terribly touching riff on anonymity in relationships, the impossibility of really knowing someone, and the inevitability of forgetting ("I'll see you on the street sometime, So-and-So/introduce you to my new So-and-So"). "A Tell-Tale Penis" is deeper than its goofy Poe-biting title might suggest, simultaneously morbid and hopeful, romantic and base, circling around several times before getting to the meat of the matter ("You can end things with your boyfriend/I'll quit chasing you around/but how long will the echo of the tell-tale penis sound?"). That song's lyric about its subject giving in to "her most unlit corners too soon" echoes the refrain of opening song "Shown and Told": "There are corners of your own home that you've never noticed before." Boo Human is full of such dark corners, all well worth exploring.

What I forgot to mention, or failed to notice, while reviewing the album, was that, while the closing refrain of the song "So-and-So" is still very much about the things listed above, its first half is also very much about the dissolution of a specific romantic relationship. I guess the break-up part seems like such well-worn territory that it's easy to kind of not even notice next to the song's subtler sentiments, but it's definitely there.

Also also: I don't imagine they're taking requests tonight, but I'd really love to hear "Post Coitus Rock" live.

Joan of Arc play Sun June 1, Vera Project, 7:30 pm, $10, all ages. With 31Knots, Henari Nannon, Alaskas.

This is Basic Channel...

This is iTune's review of the MP3 release of "Inversion," a track (or process) that was generated in 1994.

First, how dare the reviewer compare Basic Channel with Moroder. I love Moroder, but there is no comparison between him and them. None. Basic Channel did, however, complete (fulfill) the promises made by Kraftwerk. What began with Kraftwerk, ends with Basic Channel.

Second, time. Time is precisely what Basic Channel does not produce. You cannot talk about time and their music; such talk makes no sense. We must be aware of this fact: Time is always human. With this understanding we will become aware of this other fact: Because time is human, it's narrable. Time is human, and humans are narratives. What is human is what Basic Channel removed from its music. A track by Basic Channel cannot be long or short: its not about narratives but processes. A process either happens or does not happen. A process is inhuman.

When I was growing up, my mom always had this tape in the car:

For whatever reason, I mentioned that while driving to the Gorge this weekend and Eric Grandy then informed all of us that Bruce Willis also showcased his music talents in a wonderful 1986 wine cooler commercial.

Enjoy:

Sadly, Bruce Willis did not perform at Sasquatch.

Last month, '80s synth pioneers turned pop fromáge specialists, Orchestral Manouvers In The Dark (OMD), released a live CD/DVD of newly recycled material with a title that could be a tagline for Slog, Architecture & Morality & More. With their contemporaries, Pet Shop Boys, Erasure and Depeche Mode still touring and reaping the financial and critical rewards of staying active, OMD's return to the stage was better late than never. While the idea of performing an entire album, in order, isn't new, OMD made the perfect choice in performing their third album, Architecture & Morality. Following the experimental self titled debut and slightly more gothic sounding second album, Organization (both released in 1980), Architecture & Morality (1981) has long been a fan favorite. The album strikes a balance between the experimental synth pieces and overt pop songs to collectively represent the bands past and hint at the future.

Like their contemporaries, Joy Division, OMD were inspired by the synth sounds of Kraftwerk and diy punk ethos prevalent in the late 70s. In fact, OMD and Joy Division share many similarities. Both bands broke into the industry on the back of Tony Wilson. OMD's first single, Electricity, was produced by Martin Hannett, sleeve designed by Peter Saville and released on Factory Records. OMD got the expensive, iconic Saville die-cut sleeve treatment years before New Order's infamous Blue Monday. The Factory connection continued with what must be the earliest recorded tribute to Ian Curtis, the haunting Statues on Organization, released the same year Curtis died.

A string of progressively tacky pop albums marred what had started as a strange but compelling union of arty synth textures and pop hooks. Their first four albums up to Dazzle Ships (1983), all weave experimental synth tracks with understated melodic pop and all stand up to repeat listens. It wasn't until the band signed to A&M records in 1984 that the annoying, overproduced po(o)p started to dominate their albums, starting with, ironically enough, Junk Culture. Soon after Junk Culture, the band would be featured on John Hughes soundtracks and playing stadiums. Vocalist/bassist/spastic dancer, Andy McCluskey, had grown tired of OMD being dismissed as a cheesy pop act while the early experimental phase of their career was virtually forgotten (similar story with Talk Talk only in reverse). OMD have been unfairly maligned for years, The Smiths famously chose their simple name as a reaction to the overblown Orchestral Manouvers In The Dark, but with the release of this live show, they hope fans of their pop hits will revisit their more experimental work.

For fans of both the arty and the pop, this concert recording satisfies every need. Obscure album tracks like Romance of the Telescope share space with more well known pop numbers like If You Leave and Enola Gay. The DVD is well produced, sounds fantastic and includes some revealing interviews with the band. Unfortunately, as with all aging '80s stars, watching them sweat to the oldies can be difficult to say the least. I'd love to see a celebrity version of So You Think You Can Dance featuring Andy McCluskey and Bernard Sumner squaring off.

On second thought, nevermind.

As already noted in this morning's Tonight in Music post, Mudhoney release The Lucky Ones today. They celebrate with a 7 pm in-store at Easy Street Queen Anne.

Mudhoney The Lucky One (Sub Pop)

"I'm Now"

Scarlett Johansson Anywhere I Lay My Head (Atco)

Contrary to what I initially thought when I heard that ScarJo was going to release an album of Tom Waits covers, Anywhere I Lay My Head isn't a trainwreck. A full CD review will be in tomorrow's paper. Here's a preview:

Releasing an album of Tom Waits covers is a hell of a way to make a debut as a singer. Waits, of course, is a highly regarded songwriter whose coarse, trademark voice doesn’t invite easy imitation. But on Anywhere I Lay My Head, actress turned songbird Scarlett Johansson and producer Dave Sitek (of TV on the Radio) creatively re-work some of Waits’ gems to deliver surprisingly pleasing results.

In “Town With No Cheer,” a defeated five-minute ballad about a dry ghost-town, Johansson tugs her voice as low as it will go, down to the pit of her diaphragm. It’s a voice worlds away from the image of a full-lipped, D-cupped sex symbol currently making headlines for becoming engaged to Hollywood’s boy B-list goofball Ryan Reynolds.

You can stream the whole album at www.scarlettalbum.com.

Islands Arm's Way (Anti-/Rough Trade)

"Creeper" (via Pitchfork)

Islands will play Neumo's Tuesday June 12.

Mates of State Re-Arrange Us (Barsuk)

"My Only Offer"

Mates of State play the Sasquatch! Festival Sunday, May 25. They're also playing a free in-store at Sonic Boom Ballard on Tuesday, May 27. And if you really want to, see naked photos of the duo here, recently shot for an anti-fur PETA ad. (They're safe for work, naughty bits are covered up.)

See what else is out today at Pause & Play.

Two great, hopelessly romantic records you should listen to on the next sunny day:

That's all.

Music's most adorable man and wife duo have made their new album Re-Arrange Us available to stream on their Myspace page. Unfortunately, someone coded their own audio stream into one of their comments causing Latin-American music to start playing after about a minute, without the option of turning it off or even seeing where it's coming from. So until the Mates get that little glitch under control you can enjoy their new record simultaneously with Spanish singing and a horn section.

Re-Arrange Us comes out May 20th on Barsuk.

When asked what he is listening to at this moment, El-P, the founder of Def Jux, and the subject of an article I wrote this week, said the soundtrack for Steven Soderbergh's remake of Andrie Tarkovsky's Solaris. "Yeah, the movie sucks, but the soundtrack is really great. I can't stop listening to it. There's something there I want to figure out."

I bought the soundtrack, listened to it, and came to agree with El-P--it's a beautiful and meticulous work of movie music. But I think this is the secret of the score's success: it sounds like a soundtrack for a movie that has never been made. Its music, produced by Cliff Martinez, does not connect with its movie, and so the music has a ghostly quality. It's music without the presence and weight of its image.

The long-awaited debut Truckasauras album Tea Parties, Guns & Valor doesn't drop officially for another two weeks, but local digital music retailer Necodo is getting the jump on the competition by selling it now, and they've put together a streaming player so you can check out the whole thing. Enjoy.

Death Cab For Cutie's new album, Narrow Stairs is out today. Long time DCFC fan and former fellow Bellinghamster Jeff Kirby reviews the album for this week's Stranger, out tomorrow. But you, Line Out reader, can taste what's on Kirby's mind-grapes right now:

Death Cab For Cutie
Narrow Stairs
(Atlantic)

***1/2

With their first couple albums, Death Cab For Cutie established a sound that was uniquely their own, one which not only launched the band into stardom but also became a foundation for the 21st century’s new generation of indie/emo rock. But, seemingly intent not to be pigeonholed into a sound they helped solidify, each subsequent Death Cab release has expanded their sound in new directions while never losing their knack for to dressing up dispirited lyrics in carefully catchy pop melodies. Both Transatlanticism and Plans even hinted at overarching themes—the former dealt with love being conquered by physical distance, the latter with growing old and emotionally distant. Neither quite coalesced into bona fide concept albums, though, feeling instead feeling like collections of likeminded songs.

Narrow Stairs finally achieves that level of cohesion. Once again, the songs deal with hapless and infelicitous love, but this time a perceptible, almost narrative theme unfolds from song to song. “I Will Possess Your Heart,” the 8-and-a-half minute single that beings with a brooding, 5-minute instrumental jam, explores the sadly deluded, stalker-ish certainty that eventually, the song’s indifferent subject will love the singer in return. “Talking Bird” is like a lullaby, simple and familiar, with Ben Gibbard wistfully promising, “It’s all here for you as long as you don’t fly away.” Key lines of several songs are startlingly dismal: “You can do better than me, but I can’t do better than you,” “You look so defeated lying there in your new twin size bed”—even the driving 80s rock beat of “Long Division” can’t hide the desperation in its chorus, “He had sworn not to be what he’d been before, to be a remainder.”

Despite the heavy heart, there's a renewed sonic energy pumping through Narrow Stairs’ lovesick and deflated veins. Musically upbeat as it is lyrically despairing, Narrow Stairs is acutely mimetic of an optimistic but fatally flawed relationship, and though the sentiment expressed is notably depressing, it is undeniably well crafted. JEFF KIRBY

As Brian Cook mentioned in this morning's Music News, Weezer pushed up the release of their new album from June 24 to June 3rd.

"Due to popular demand and the intense reaction to the 'Pork And Beans' single, the wait time for the new album has just been reduced!"

Of course, last week's leak of a bunch of songs probably had something to do with it too.

Here's the band's six-minute medley/rock opera that everyone's been talking about:

Weezer - The Greatest Man That Ever Lived (Variations on a Shaker Hymn)

It's daring to do something different, which I can appreciate from artists. And while the first few listens had me laughing, it didn't take long for this song to start to feel so ridiculous and contrived... Ugh.

And two more:

Weezer - "Cold, Dark World" and "Everybody Get Dangerous"

If all these songs are indeed on the album, along with "Pork and Beans," this will be the most disjointed record the band will have ever released. And I can't believe I still care at this point.

Death Cab's much-anticipated sixth full-length, Narrow Stairs, will be in stores tomorrow, but both Sonic Boom locations will be open at midnight tonight for those who just can't wait another 24 hours.

There will also be a listening party at Liberty (across from SB Capitol Hill), starting at 10 pm, so you can try before you buy (and partake in drink specials).

Yesterday Kirby posted about the 13-year-old girl who killed herself. "Emo" is being blamed for the death, as she was "obsessed" with the band My Chemical Romance. And, as Kirby posted and as the Telegraph reported, "She had secretly chatted to 'emo' followers online all over the world, talking about death and the glamorisation of hanging and speaking about 'the black parade' - a place where 'emos' believe they go after they die."

The Black Parade is, of course, from the My Chemical Romance record, a concept album based on a cancer patient who died and went to the Black Parade (you know, instead of going to heaven or hell or wherever).

So anyway today, following her death, the band announced details for their upcoming CD+DVD boxset called The Black Parade is Dead.

The special edition will be released with death certificates for each member and "Day of the Dead" masks. It'll be packaged in a pinewood coffin.

Just like that 13-year old girl.

Sometimes--either by mistake or because someone doesn't understand what the "Book" in "Books Editor" stands for--CDs land in my box of incoming to-be-reviewed books. I usually listen to them, if just to see what's passing for new musical acts these days.

Today, I got a copy of Rockferry, by Duffy. Thanks to her freakishly detailed Wikipedia page, I now know that Duffy is Welsh and once, when she was a child, she was put in a safe house because a hit man was called out on her famliy. Also, she was elected president of her Students' Union.

But I really, really like the album. It's kind of got a Dusty Springfield feel to it, with some wall of sound and some R&B mixed in. A couple of the songs echo older songs--"Hanging on too Long" is only a note or two away from "I Heard it Through the Grapevine," for example--but the whole thing feels like a nice late-sixties groove. It makes me glad that it's kind of shitty outside today. Here's the title track:

I just listened to Dizzee Rascal's latest CD, Math and English, and was stimulated by one track, "World Outside," mildly stimulated by another, "Sirens," and cold to the rest. The problem? Like much of Rascal's work, it lacks an aesthetic or creative program. The CD goes all over the place in a restless search of a hit single. His hunger for a hit has grown. The substance of his raps has shrunk. The genre he channeled to America is more and more looking like a dead end for hiphop. Let's return our attention to dubstep. It has a real hero with a real program.

The successful "stealthy" release of the last Raconteurs album has, in typical music industry fashion, been co-opted by people who have no idea what they're doing. Apparently, the next Beck album will be "stealthily" released in the next month or so. Take that, illegal music downloaders!

Strategy aside: Beck. You know, I was kind of fond of Guero. It felt like a nice, poppy summer album. And Guerolito, the remix album, was, you know, okay. It reminded me of how the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion used to release remix albums that were supposed to be "fucked-up" chopped and channeled versions, but really were just kind of aurally challenging messes. The Information, with its DIY cover, seemed irrelevant from the moment I opened the package. I think that, if Beck wants to have a future, he should stop trying to be Bob Dylan and start trying to be Neil Diamond. His creepy Scientology-issued sincerity would be the perfect breeding ground for the "Sweet Caroline" of the new millennium. And, whether you acknowledge it or not, the new millennium desperately needs a new "Sweet Caroline."

No Age Nouns (Sub Pop)

Eric Grandy has had nothing but great things to say about this band lately--he reviewed their Sub Pop debut in his column this week. An excerpt:

A lot of influences ricochet and echo around on this record, but a few echo loudest. There's Sonic Youth, of course, both in the band's melding of slanted pop and digressive experimentalism and in their shared penchant for age-defying monikers. There's a little bit of Built to Spill's sloppier, poppier side in Spunt's wide-eyed vocals and Randall's fragile driving melodies. Most exciting though, are the unexpected, though eagerly welcomed, traces of Sam Jayne's teenage trio Lync, whose fractured, fuzzy indie rock deserves greater credit for presaging countless bands. These last two reference points are especially pronounced on songs like "Sleeper Hold," "Here Should Be My Home," "Ripped Knees," and "Brain Burner."

Throughout, No Age mix noise, punk, and pop in unusual and deeply satisfying ways, dressing up by-the-numbers pop structures with peripheral chaos, hiding hooks under deep layers of lo-fi squall.

Listen to No Age:
"Eraser"

Try before you buy; stream the whole record on the band's MySpace: www.myspace.com/nonoage.

Russian Circles Stations (Suicide Squeeze)

From this week's paper:

Russian Circles
Station
(Suicide Squeeze)

If Chicago instrumental combo Russian Circles founded a school, their curriculum would ditch the "three Rs"—who needs language arts when your discipline forgoes words?—in favor of a trio of Gs: geography, geometry, and geology. Studied closely, their music revolves around exploring diverse terrain, measuring spatial relations, and stratifying layers. And, yes, Russian Circles rock: at times, quite hard.

On their second full-length, drummer Dave Turncrantz and guitarist Mike Sullivan are joined by Brian Cook (Botch, These Arms Are Snakes) on bass, with Matt Bayles (Mastodon, Minus the Bear) handling production. Randomly sample a segment of any of the six tracks, and a listener could be forgiven for thinking Station was the work of myriad bands. But no, the skittish percussion fills, headbanging bursts of staccato guitar shredding, unsettling dissonances, and extended ambient passages were all crafted by the same players. (The bowed bass and organ drones on "Versus," however, come courtesy of Past Lives' Morgan Henderson and Bayles, respectively.)

What holds everything together, across 43 minutes that seem shorter, is judicious overlapping pitched somewhere between tectonic plate movement and a rapid-fire game of Tetris. Russian Circles don't deal in verses, choruses, and bridges in the traditional sense, instead building songs around succinct melodic cells, elongated textural passages, and mathematical counter- point displays. On the opening "Campaign," repeated guitar figures ripple over sustained notes, like an edgier update of Eno and Fripp's seminal collaborations. The core components of each track are sometimes embarrassingly simple—during one chunk of "Station," Cook plays the same bass note past the point of mind-numbing and straight on till mesmerizing—yet their array changes so quickly and fluidly that boredom is never a concern; this is stoner music with ADD appeal. KURT B. REIGHLEY

Hear the song "Harper Lewis" at Suicidesqueeze.com.

Also in stores today: Elvis Costello and The Imposters Momofuku, Neil Diamond Home Before Dark, Matmos Supreme Balloon, and uh... Clay Aiken.