Best Records of 2008....So Far

My first month noms are for The Hands (I remain unconvinced that Mick Jagger doesn't sing lead vocals for this band) and Nada Surf (whose soon-to-be-released Lucky is reminiscent of Rogue Wave's Asleep at Heaven's Gate in that it features an established indie act showing it's not comfortable chillaxin' on an already sky-high plateau). But then, I don't get out much. Tell me what I'm missing so far, kids. Oh, and Nada Surf gigs this Wednesday at the Triple Door. The show's sold out, so maybe try and jimmy your way in through a heater duct or something.

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Shel-Shocked at Lynne's Springfield Smooth-Out

I was going to come on here and tear Shelby Lynne's horrible new album featuring smooth jazz interpretations of Dusty Springfield covers a new asshole, but it looks like Ther Huffington Post beat me to the punch. San Nunziato says it all here (the only other dig I'd include is Lynne performing "Breakfast In Bed" as though she's still asleep): "When I first heard about this project, I was somewhat excited. Good songs, good voice, good producer. What more do you need? Well, after one painful listen and a follow-up -"Was it really that bad?"- listen, I have decided that someone must take the blame. Fellow blogger, Matt Budd, closes his glowing review of this record by saying, "By doing this album (Shelby Lynne) has given us all the opportunity to listen to these great songs again. Thanks, Shelby." Everyone... buy "Dusty In Memphis" and any of the many Dusty Springfield Greatest Hits CDs that are available and you can listen to these great songs again...PROPERLY. I cannot "thank" Miss Lynne or producer Phil Ramone for sucking the life out of these legendary pieces of music that were just fine AS IS! Shelby Lynne's reading of such classics as "Anyone Who Had A Heart," "You Don't Have To Say You Love Me," and the title track, "Just A Little Lovin'" have no soul. Zero. Listening did not move me or make me feel sexy. It actually made me think of Wim Wenders and the desert...And what about "I Only Want To Be With You," the power-pop/girl group masterpiece? Was it necessary to slow this down and get all "laid back on our asses?" This version would make Perry Como shout, 'C'MON! PICK IT UP!' It's only January and I am pretty certain no release this year will disappoint and annoy me as much as this. I love Shelby Lynne, but this is wrong. Sorry, Shelby."

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The Best Record I Heard All Year: Gonzales, Solo Piano

I just finished up my year-end top 10, and was forced to leave out the only amazing record I heard all year: Gonzales Solo Piano. For one, it was released two years ago in Europe and only reached the U.S. this year. But more importantly, assigning this record a numerical importance felt cheap.
Sometimes, records come along at really important times in your life. For me, 2007 was a year of major transition, and not just because I got married (which, by the way, is totally awesome). I found myself thinking of music in a completely different way. I, like many others, felt completely overwhelmed by music, little of which felt like essential listening. Gonzales' Solo Piano came along at exactly the right time and went everywhere with me in 2007. I recognized his name as an electronica/trip-hop artist, and as the producer for Feist and Peaches, but this had nothing in common with any of that. This collection of 16 songs (or, etudes) evoked a mood unlike any other. It wasn't jazz, it wasn't classical. It wasn't fast, it wasn't slow.
It just was.
Above is some presumably homemade video for the album's opener "Gogol". And I hate to say it, but if there are any Francophiles out there, you need to buy this record.

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Band of Beach Boys

I'm currently listening to a promo copy of Band of Horses' followup to their brilliantly anthemic debut, Everything All the Time. I loved that record, and I'm loving this record (Cease to Begin), but fair warning: the two records are nothing alike. Really the only unifying thread is lead singer Ben Bridwell's inimitably nasal, hyper-enunciated vocal stylings. Cease to Begin is a catchy, twangy, mid-tempo affair that goes way soft on the rawk quotient in favor of what might rightfully be called Smoky Mountain daydream pop. The album is nowhere near as loud and lush as Everything, but manages to mine its relative simplicity for several gorgeous little ballads, foremost among them "Marry Song," "Window Blues," and "No One's Gonna Love You". Added bonus: there's also a track called "Detlef Schrempf" that, far as I can tell, has very little to do with basketball. The album hits stores October 9.

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Dylan & the Dead

The Traveling Wilburys' song "Handle With Care" easily ranks among my Top 25 singles of all time. It's pure pop perfection bolstered by George Harrison's supergroup shackup involving Dylan, Petty, and Orbison (and producer/bandmember Jeff Lynne). This one-off band was a great idea, as evidenced by the super cool DVD documentary included in the Wilburys' new deluxe triple disc, The Traveling Wilburys Collection.

But other than the aforementioned track and the rollicking "End of the Line," the two discs devoted exclusively to music reveal the Wilburys to be better in concept than execution. It's fun to see these rock legends having so much fun together while holed up at a friend's house in the Hills for a marathon sleepover recording session. But the end product, unfortunately, mirrors the going-through-the-motions look in Dylan's eyes throughout the documentary. The Wilburys Collection is mostly uninspired, middlebrow pap, as is George Harrison's feathered mullet.

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X-static for return of Static-X

Static-X

Cannibal

(Reprise)

Static-X came to metal fame in the middle of the ‘90s nü-metal craze, but thankfully they’ve moved beyond most of those conventions. On Cannibal, the band’s recent release, there is still too much electronic wizardry, but none of the rap-rock that doomed the subgenre.

Vocalist Wayne Static, big hair and all, screams his way through the album like an asthmatic teenager trying to be James Hetfield. This would be much worse except that the vocals are never the centerpiece of any track. Static’s voice is mixed down in a manner that benefits the singer’s limited capabilities. What does come to the forefront is Koichi Fukuda’s lead guitar and Nick Oshiro’s drums.

The guitar riffs aren’t spectacular. Instead it is his basic work that stands out while Static keeps his rhythm guitar going, Fukuda manages to sound like the riffs are natural progressions of the melody. Many metal guitarists have forgotten this. Fukada also seems to have attended the System of a Down school of guitar. His work at playing on the down beat is reminiscent of SOAD guitarist Daron Malakian. Not as perfect yet, but in time Fukuda could rival the fellow L.A. axeman.

Oshiro’s percussion work keeps the driving nature of what Static has called “our most metal album yet.” Even when Static attempts to cover the drums with his Atari-sounding programming, Oshiro doesn’t let it happen. He’s always there, getting the job done.

Cannibal is almost a concept album, in that half of the 12 tracks mention cannibalism of some sort, and the rest could be taken as commentary from a modern Leatherface, one that actually looks normal and goes to clubs.

Static still hasn’t gotten over that programming bug, adding his little flairs wherever he can. They don’t add anything to the songs and would be easily replaced with more Fukuda riffs. It can be done. Also, the record never seems loud enough, even at increased volume. Straining to hear Static’s vocals and trying not to hear the electronic gimmickry only make head banging that much harder.

Maybe the live show will be louder.

Static-X, Otep, Invitro will rock the Showbox, Sunday.

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