THE GOOD

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs — Mosquito

Karen O is taking us to church — grab your hat. Mosquito is curious. Its lead single, the rapturous, dangerous “Sacrilege,” rustles with anxious energy. Karen O gets herself worked up into a fever pitch; the song’s gospel choir is pure class. It’s a crackling high point on an album that takes a sharp turn toward the understated as soon as the track times out. Spooky, intangible “Subway” samples the sounds of, well, the subway, while the title track is raw, dutiful modern-rock. And if you couldn’t tell from looking at them, Karen O and the boys like to experiment, like on garage-rock-astro-tantrum “Area 52.” It’s not that Mosquito is demure by any means. It’s just that after coming to Jesus on the first track, everything else is a cooldown lap around the track.

Steve Martin & Edie Brickell — Love Has Come For You

Here is a classic case of “Wait, why does no one else like this album as much as I do? Is there something wrong with it? Is there something wrong with me?” Comedian’s comedian Steve Martin has been strummin’ the ol’ banjo professionally for some time, and here he teams up New Bohemian/Mrs. Paul Simon/velvet voice Edie Brickell for some warm, bluegrassy reverie. It’s never raucous like the best bluegrass can be, but it goes down smoother than cream gravy on a porkchop. If Carolina Chocolate Drops or Trampled By Turtles threaten you, Love Has Come For You will preserve your delicate sensibilities. Lovelorn and regretful, “When You Get To Asheville” will haunt the very core of you if you allow it to. Appalachian jig “Yes She Did” deploys the album’s spare style with plucky aplomb; “Sarah Jane and the Iron Mountain Baby” is not only a wonderful ad for adoption, but manages to wrest an earworm out of the train-whistle “whoops” of the hootin’ and/or hollerin’ chorus. For me, Love Has Come is the hidden treasure of the year. I mean, it’s got this line: “You got the power, you got the faith, you got the El Camino.” That’s as American as it gets.

!!! — Thr!!!er

As if giving themselves a punctuated onomatopoeia for a name wasn’t a decisive enough display of confidence, !!! would like to remind you that they know exactly what they’re doing. Funkadelic dancefloor rock designed to move the maximum number of pelvises through musical economy, Thr!!!er glides along with ease and ample stankface. Listen to disco thumper “One Girl/One Boy”; defy the urge to wear a gold-spangled leotard and Elton John sunglasses. It’s impressive that !!! can fire off so many ’70s-inspired jams and still not sound like some kind of Studio 54 parody group. Example: Strictly speaking, “Fine Fine Fine” is a David Bowie song, but doesn’t seem like a Ziggy Stardust costume. Strap on your rollerskates. Turn on some neon strobe lights. Dance. Dance, I say.

TeamMate — The Sequel EP

Boy meets girl. Boy and girl date for ten years. Girl realizes she likes other girls. Boy and girl form synthpop band called TeamMate. I mean, we’ve all been there. Somewhere in the neighborhood between Capital Cities and Ra Ra Riot but taking a detour to Chromeo’s apartment along the way to use the restroom, the Los Angeles/Pittsburgh duo took an undeniably daunting personal situation (I’d like to think of them as a less-skin-crawling Jack and Meg White) and turned it into a stellar freshman EP. The title track recounts the pair’s story, with the following two tracks (especially “Girls With Boys’ Names”) serving up kinetic giddiness. The closing “LA Winter” is a little too Owl City/The Secret Handshake for this reviewer to enjoy while not being 18 years old, but it certainly doesn’t spoil the fun a bit. Put these guys on the watch list.

Phoenix — Bankrupt!

Is “Entertainment” racially insensitive? I absolutely adore it as a single, but it sounds like a one of those 1940s Warner Bros. cartoons set in China, and I want to make sure it’s okay to like it. College anthropology class guilt aside, Bankrupt! plays like an adventure, with a sense of wanderlust and lost weekends seeping through tight, elegant rock songs. “S.O.S. in Bel Air” is a great complement to the ubiquitous “Entertainment.” Constantly escalating like a Hollywood travel montage, it’s probably the most likely to please Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix fans. There’s not quite as much devotion to hooky, “Listzomania”-style magic on Bankrupt!, though. The cover art for this album ends up signifying the tone of the music quite literally: Pop paradise of a languid, aristocratic sort. Amid hazy, glistening effects on the title track and songs like “Don’t,” this is the Versailles of rock albums. Posh, but maybe a bit too content with itself.

THE MEH

Youngblood Hawke — Wake Up

It’s about time we got some new music from Grouplove! (*inaudible whiper*) Hm? (*inaudible whiper*) Oh, Wake Up isn’t a Grouplove album? Iiiii’m pretty sure— (*slightly audible whiper*) Oh. Youngblood Hawke. Yeah, OK, that makes sense. With all the blind, flailing enthusiasm of Neon Trees, less cheese and a radio-ready arsenal of pop-rock, the L.A. group are … well, they’re certainly doing something, all right. For the purpose of moving one’s body in a most rhythmic fashion whilst not intellectually engaging whatsoever, Wake Up kills it. “Say Say” shines with a little Foster the People magic, “Dreams” amply fills the sweeping, New Wave jam quota, and the-so-damn-catchy-hit-you-recognize “We Come Running” certainly earns its keep on the alternative charts. Still, with a couple clunkers (notably “Dannyboy,” which sounds like a room of Muppets fulfilling a mass suicide pact) and the sinking feeling of trying a little too hard, you might find it difficult to keep coming back to this album.

She & Him — Volume 3

Hey. Deschanel. Ward. You don’t have to release an album, y’know. If you’re going to be listless and bored, I’m going to be listless and bored. The first two She & Him albums were great. The Christmas album is a sweater-weather staple. But what is this? Just going to keep doing the same thing over and over? OK. Y’all do y’all. (But remember — repetition is a sign of insanity.) Here’s the emotional journey Volume 3 inspired: I listened to this while I was doing dishes. It’s entirely pleasant. Zooey sounds like she’s swallowing nickels when she sings in her lower register. The cover art is nice. There was movement of the pelvis. I wish I had kept up with “New Girl” this season.

THE “OH, HONEY”

Fitz and the Tantrums — More Than Just a Dream

What everyone liked about 2010′s Pickin’ Up the Pieces was its groovy soul-infused groove and timeless class. So to build upon the fanbase that loved that album, Fitz and the Tantrums decided to … load the new record full of synths, modern pop production and cheap dancefloor rhythms. In an awe-inspiring display of fumbling the ball, Michael Fitzpatrick, Noelle Scaggs, et. al. decided to cut their glorious musical product with some low-quality pandering and try to pass off the resulting swill as “mature” and “experimental.” Those two words are industry euphemisms for “abomination before the eyes of the Lord.” There is nothing wrong with trying out a new sound; there is something wrong with awkwardly trying to Frankenstein hip hop and New Wave sensibilities onto your Motown sound just for the hell of it. (Have cake, unable to eat it too, etc.) As a result of this style free-for-all, More Than Just a Dream is stressful to listen to, such as on the sonically dissonant “The Walker” or the tragic “Fools Gold.” Technically, “Spark” is probably the worst offender, with its iPod commercial hollowness, but it might just be gleefully rotten. (I’ve jogged to it a couple times.) Not everything here is awful, of course, but distractingly inept eclipses mediocrity any day. Better luck next time.

The Ghost of a Good Thing Yes That Is a Reference to Dashboard Confessional

Sam Beam’s latest Iron & Wine production is different, but it’s still money. Ghost on Ghost exhibits a strong stylistic shift towards New Orleans-y jazz and reminds me a bit of Feist’s Metals. Beam’s same signature croon and songwriting chops are at highest visibility on every track here, but there’s a brass instrument for every cryptic lyric this time around.

It’s tempting to suggest that Beam’s “new sound” might have probably worked better as highlights (or even cool-guy tips, really) to the sonic hair of the album instead of a perm (sorry, I just wanted to say that). The excitement of the change, after all, does decelerate significantly upon third, fourth, and fifth listens. Which is not to say there aren’t phenomenal songs on Ghost on Ghost; “Low Light Buddy of Mine” and “Lovers’ Revolution” are as dark and ominous as “Caught in the Briars” and “Grace for Saints and Ramblers” are light and carefree. And they maximize the impact of the brass accoutrements, although perhaps none of them catch swampy, jazzy lightning in a bottle as romantic number “The Desert Babbler,” which has a steel guitar and also reminds me of the French countryside. Ultimately though, the change fits Beam’s style well, and I’d like to see him progress with it. If this album is ghostly, I can’t wait to see this new version of I&W with some flesh on it.

Matt’s picks:
(1) Caught in the Briars
(2) The Desert Babbler
(4) Low Light Buddy of Mine
(5) Grace for Saints and Ramblers
(11) Lovers’ Revolution

Tall, Gawk and Trance-some

Shoot. I don’t even know what to say. James Blake has broken my word hole.

You know that thing that writers do when they aren’t smart enough to deftly craft complete sentences, so instead they pump out a string of adjectives to appear concise and perceptive? No? Me neither.

Blake’s second album, Overgrown, is rare. Sumptuous. Rich. Narcotic. Phantasmagoric. I didn’t make that word up, but I also threw up in my mouth right after I typed it. As far as electronic music goes, James Blake is the perfect remedy for the tackiness often found in bleepy-bloopy music (what with your ACIVIIs or whatever), as well as a fascinating counterpoint to even the best dance pop. Overgrown displays an ear for textures reminiscent of The xx, fused with a Robin-Thicke-meets-Justin-Vernon vocal style — far more soulful a sound than should come out of that skinny boy’s mouth. I’m 24 too and my voice doesn’t contain the hollow pain of a thousand years of heartache, so one of us is doing something wrong, I guess.

“Retrograde” is where you want to start if you enjoy tasteful hallucinations. Brimming with darkness and never not ethereal, it hits its stride in both the post-dubstep and blue-eyed soul departments. Titanic, eerie bass and droning sirens trade off with a spare handclap beat and Blake’s Smokey Robinson hum-croon, delivering the simplest of melodies that just might make you shed a tear. It’s a song that could easily devastate you if you’re in the wrong place.

Overgrown makes an effort to trade evenly on its soul and electro sides, but sometimes the scales tip to one side. “Voyeur,” spooky and surreal, is a house track par excellence, provided the house is the one from “Thir13en Ghosts.” If video game influences are enticing, try out “Life Round Here,” which could slot pretty easily into Kavinsky’s OutRun.

Conversely, James Blake can’t be chained to a computer completely, as “DLM” will make apparent. It takes some stones to stick a straightforward ballad — with a hint of Gregorian chanting, natch — in the middle of what’s ostensibly an electronic album. But like my mom always says: When life gives you a piano and deep-seated longing, compose a baroque-style chorale. (If that’s not your style, “Our Love Comes Back” is a great Nick Drake song from an alternate future where Nick Drake is still alive and is also a Cylon.)

This is really one of those scenarios where listening to the album is much more effective that having it described to you. I’m not entirely sure what Overgrown makes me feel, and I’m convinced it’s because I’m not even capable of feeling the same emotions as James Blake.

Eric’s Picks
(1) “Overgrown”
(3) “Life Round Here”
(5) “Retrograde”
(6) “DLM”
(8) “Voyeur”

This Is an Album by the Band Dawes

There’s an episode of This American Life that investigates the idea of “imitation calamari,” a less-than-savory alternative to the popular fried squid appetizer that’s purportedly being passed off as the real thing in restaurants across America (warning: gross). Of course, Eric told me about this rumored phenomenon right after we had finished a big ol’ plate of calamari (my first experience with the stuff) at Olive Garden.

When listening to Dawes, I’m confronted with similar suspicions: This sounds kinda like The Eagles, but something’s off. Perhaps it’s an implicit insistence on maintaining the “Laurel Canyon” aesthetic that binds them to this sound, but it comes without the strong nostalgia or well-crafted songwriting of the niche’s progenitors. Which is not to say these songs aren’t catchy; “From a Window Seat” will get stuck the hell in your head, but only in the way that makes you want to hit your head on things. In the case of the tiresome “Just My Luck,” Dawes frankensteins imitation Rooney meat and imitation Jet meat together with the imitation Eagles meat in hopes of fooling you into embracing a familiar sound, but it’s more repetitive and trite than anything.

I know the A.V. Club already crowned Dawes the Best Band Everrr in one of my favorite reviews of all time, which basically reads as “Dawes is great! Yeah, Dawes! We like it Dawes!!1!” And I heard nothing but good things about Dawes during SXSW; I even caught one of their shows in near entirety and a guest appearance during John Fogerty’s set. Listen – I know I’m supposed to like Dawes, just like I’m supposed to believe this calamari is legit. Sorry, but I’m not buying it; there are too many similar sounding bands out there that evoke emotions stronger than boredom.

Subtlety Is A Superpower

Telekinesis is a golden retriever. Singer-mastermind Michael Benjamin Lerner doesn’t want much from you. He just wants to you to throw the metaphorical stick of approval, and he will return with his no-frills Seattle emo-tinged power-pop. Or a dead bird. My family’s golden retriever would bring back dead birds a lot.

Dormarion is one of those joints where the vocals ride sidecar to the music. (Ever noticed that’s usually the case when the lyrics are actually good?) Lerner’s performance style is best classified as “Ford Focus-eque” — reliable, good at what it does, and possessing zero flash. He warbles incisive poetry that wafts through textures and melodies resembling Ben Kweller (“Power Lines”) or a more coherent My Bloody Valentine (on the reverb-happy “You Take It Slowly”), depending on his mood. Heck, sometimes Telekinesis draws from The Human League’s synth well, like on “Ghosts and Creatures” and “Ever True.”

There’s a lot of freedom seeping through Dormarion, or at least there’s a lot of yearning for it. From “Power Lines” (“Run down the tracks like a bat out of hell/Don’t mess up your hair, because we’re destined to fail”) to the reckless abandon of “Dark to Light” (“You don’t want to wait/You just want to run away”), Lerner sings of caged birds and dreams of flight — both doomed and not.

Telekinesis’ latest evokes another Seattleite’s recent work: Ben Gibbard’s Former Lives. That album seemed very much a scrapbook of music that the artist wanted to record for personal reasons. Dormarion has a similar quality: There’s not much in the way of cohesion, but there’s plenty of pure intention.

Eric’s Picks
(1) “Power Lines”
(3) “Ghosts and Creatures”
(7) “Dark to Light”

IO Echo’s debut album, Ministry of Love, is good. But it’s not very good. It’s a frustrating listen, because it reaches some exhilarating highs but draws up a sort of middling compromise between shoegaze and dark alt-pop in between. Unfortunately, it’s a compromise that renders the album wispy and unsubstantial as a whole instead of channeling the strengths of those elements.

In a sense, IO Echo is perhaps riding the Lana Del Rey train a little too hard; they come pre-packaged from LA with a methodically crafted image that evokes more skepticism than inspiration. It’s “oriental,” but to what end? Despite some of the cool instrumentation and imagery borrowed from China and Japan, there’s a pervasive feel that the imagery is more a point of emphasis than the music itself. Gimmicks aside, Ministry of Love isn’t a trainwreck or anything, and it might be a very serviceable springboard for things to come. If every song had the saturated atmosphere of “Shanghai Girls” and/or the spunky hooks of “Ecstasy Ghost,” it would be a runaway success; as it is, it’s just “good”.

Matt’s picks:
(1) Shanghai Girls
(7) Ecstasy Ghost

Paramore — “Ain’t It Fun”
WHY YES IT IS FUN, HAYLEY WILLIAMS IT IS VERY FUN. Paramore’s self-titled album dropped Tuesday and I for one welcome our new cute redhead overlord. THIS SONG HAS EVERYTHING: Tragic Kingdom-esque guitar/bass interplay, a gospel choir, summer. It’s stupid how fun this song is.

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Outkast feat. Killer Mike — “The Whole World”
Mike’s verse gets me every time: GLITTER. GLISTEN. GLOSS. FLOSS. I CATCH A BEAT RUNNIN LIKE RANDY MOSS.

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The Lone Bellow — “Two Sides of Lonely”
I saw these guys last night for the second time in the last couple weeks and they absolutely killed it. This song is a builder, but let it build, man… the payoff is worth it. #harmonies

Hard Core Parkour!

There’s been a swell in productive output from the “pop-punk-meets-melodic-hardcore” genre in recent years. Bands range from the more pop-punk (Fireworks, Transit) to the more hardcore (Set Your Goals, Title Fight, Such Gold). 2013 is shaping up to be a huge year for the genre, with Transit, Man Overboard, The Wonder Years, and The Story So Far all having put out an album or due to put one out. The last of these have one of my favorite pop-punk albums in quite some time with their sophomore LP, What You Don’t See.

Measuring up to the expectations set by their excellent debut, Under Soil and Dirt, was certainly a weighty task to manage. Just in the last year, they’ve toured in support of New Found Glory and graced the cover of Alternative Press for a “100 Bands You Need to Know” feature story. People are expecting big things from Parker Cannon and company.

What You Don’t See is solid proof that The Story So Far can hang with anyone in the genre. It’s an efficient (under 30 minutes) forcible beast of an album that splits the PP/HxC divide precisely down the middle. Cannon’s chops as lead singer are solidified here; there’s hardly a break where he’s not singing at the top of his lungs, as if leaving more than a few seconds of space unfilled by vocals would cause the whole album to implode. He balances volume, melody, and enunciation perfectly, the effect of which is a weightiness of lyrics that you don’t get from your run of the mill pop-punk band.

The lyrical soundbites were probably more punchy and evocative on Under Soil and Dirt, but they’re certainly not absent this time around. Cannon always manages to say a lot with very few words; “there’s better faces/to fill all the spaces/left by the masks you wore,” he shouts on “Bad Luck” – and in fact, much of the album is centered around the idea of space: physical and emotional, filled and empty. There are plenty of vengeful romps, which seems to be what TSSF does best, although nothing catches lightning in a bottle quite like Under Soil and Dirt’s “Roam,” “Quicksand,” or “Mt. Diablo” did. Tracing comparisons here is a bit unfair, though, because Under Soil and Dirt was a near perfect pop-punk album. In light of the expectations and precedent set, What You Don’t See is a damn good album that is playing in a different league than most bands in the genre. Hardly a disappointing follow-up.

Matt’s picks:
(1) Things I Can’t Change
(3) Small Talk
(6) Empty Space

New Politics — “Harlem”

Do not consider this an endorsement of New Politics as a band. I tried listening to more of their stuff, and it was the musical equivalent of having Flamin’ Hot Cheeotos and a sugar-free Full Throttle from the gas station for lunch. This song, though! You will lose control of your body.

Janelle Monae — “Cold War”

First things first: This is a fantastic video. Second things second: If you need a little emotional therapy to go with your cardio (I do, because I am a basket case), then this will fix you right up.

Vampire Weekend — “Diane Young”

I’m looking forward to the new Vampy Weeks album more than Christmas. If you could see my face, you would know that it’s very deadpan and completely sincere right now.

Part of me delights in having an obscure range of musical taste just for having an obscure range of musical taste, but mostly I legitimately can’t stop playing these songs.

Brandi Carlile & Emmylou Harris — “Take Me Home, Country Roads”
One of the best covers on the recently released John Denver tribute album, it doesn’t hurt that this is also the best John Denver song, of course. It also doesn’t hurt that this unlikely team of ladies has the perfect tag-team vocals to melt your feelings to the ground.

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IO Echo — “Ecstasy Ghost”
I have to send you to Spotify for this one since it’s not on YouTube so DON’T HATE ME if you don’t have Spotify. But, if you don’t have Spotify, you should just get Spotify. Anyway. This song is super.

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Kvelertak — “Bruane Brenn”
If you can get past the Norwegian screaming (and that’s always the hardest part), this is A+.