Zaw Win Shein & New Wave

A burmese song by Zaw Win Shein & New Wave in MRTV 1983 (Myanmar).
Thanks to Sylvain Gangpol!

Lisa Bell - Dancing on the Moon

Lisa Bell delivers the goods on her third album, mixing blues, jazz, pop, and roots into a bright, sparkling mix. Her voice can be both polished and loose, and shimmering washes of percussion, chimes, and layered instrumentation provide a worthy backdrop to her lyrics.

“Change Is Free,” the story of an unemployed woman facing daunting economic prospects, is the disc’s standout track, with a funky vibe, heavy beat, and touches of organ. Rather than embracing despair, she opts for change. “I can wait for the shining knight to save the day / I can pray that an angel comes my way... but change is up to me.” An accordion gives “After All” a mellow, European feel. It’s a song of struggle and redemption, accepting responsibility for past mistakes but moving on. Bell’s vocal perfectly suits the languorous tone of the hip-swaying bossa nova beat on “Misty Roses,” another highlight.

Bell gets loose with “Stand Up,” a quirky, danceable tune with prominent drums, organ, and electric guitar creating blasts of sound, and there is a comic element to “How Long,” in which a woman deals with insomnia and delayed flights while waiting to be reunited with her lover. Bell’s voice is full of yearning on “The Last Time,” in which an old love is renounced, with piano adding depth to this ballad.

The varied material on the disc provides plenty of opportunities for Bell to show off her versatile voice, which conveys longing, acceptance, hopefulness, anticipation, and joy in turn. With superb guitar and percussion throughout, it’s clear she is interested in each song not just as a showcase for herself but as a means of communication between artist and listener. Mostly, you get the sense that Bell loves what she’s doing and wants to share the beauty and excitement of these songs with you. Dancing On The Moon is an enjoyable outing of both smooth and improvisational songs, with an upbeat feel, and the blend of styles makes it perfect for the musically adventurous.

Review by Karen Duda

Mel Flannery Trucking Co. - As It Turns Out

Halogen Records

Melanie Flannery fronts a New York-based jazz ensemble called the Mel Flannery Trucking Co. Backed by bassist Matt Aronoff, drummer Danny Sher, and keyboardist and songwriting collaborator Lee Pardini, Flannery cultivated a sound that bridges pop, cabaret, jazz, and soul. Their latest offering, As It Turns Out, remains consistent with previous releases.

It also has little to recommend itself. While not unpleasant, the album did not capture my imagination. The arrangements are nice, if a bit too staid and preoccupied with conveying boho sophistication. Flannery and Pardini's lyrics tend to reflect on failed romance without tapping into new insights from such a well-documented subject in popular songwriting. Likewise, Flannery's alto is nice, but lacks singularity in tone or phrasing to set her apart from other jazz-inflected musicians who might grace Starbucks compilations.

Regrettably, I heard little variance between songs in As It Turns Out. I had difficulty telling the difference between "Something About You," "Lift Me Up, Tie Me Down," "We're Still Here," and "I Won't Say Goodbye." I do like Pardini and Sher's flourishes on "I Need You Here With Me," and "You Know What To Do." The latter also serves as one of the album's most appealing track, with Flannery cutting loose. I also appreciate the goofy lyrics in bonus track "You Are the Only One For Me." Flannery's biggest moment is "Gone," the album's proper closer, which boasts a lovely vocal performance brimming with emotion.

At times, the group's clean, slightly funky sound provides a jarring contrast with a song's content. This is most evident in "Running," a groovy slow jam about domestic violence. I appreciate Flannery and Pardini's efforts to represent a very real social problem from a survivor's perspective. This extends toward the album's liner notes, which provide information on the Human Rights Campaign and the National Domestic Violence Hotline. I don't think the song needs a foreboding sound to reflect the content. I just feel strange about the song having such a swing to it.

The group's talent is evident. I just wish I had more of a personal stake in the results.

Review by Alyx Vesey

Kylie Minogue - Aphrodite

Parlophone

Who can hate Kylie? She’s an Aussie superstar in Europe, Britain’s most beloved celebrity, and a global gay icon. She survived several decades in the entertainment business, even flourished there, and perhaps most impressively, also beat breast cancer. After she finished chemo in 2006, she headed back to the studio. Her second album since then, and her eleventh studio album, Aphrodite is an ethereal blend of her pop sensibilities and down-tempo club jams.

Minogue’s strength has forever been in singles, and Aphrodite doesn’t contain anything as strong as classic hits like “I Could Be So Lucky” or “Can't Get You Out of My Head.” That said, it’s a fine album of danceable pop enthusiasm and is peppered with themes of personal liberation and freedom on the dance floor.

Opening track and first radio single “All The Lovers” is a bittersweet tribute to a current love. Breathy and infused with raw sexuality, she sings, “All the lovers/That have come before/They don’t compare/To you.” While not yet a single, I’d be surprised if the title track doesn’t get some airplay. One of the more catchy songs about how Minogue is “original, a golden girl,” it relies on her standard charming rhymes like “kiss me/miss me,” and I imagine more than a few anxious DJs will seek this one out for club remixes.

“Get Outta My Way” is both about personal empowerment and kicking no-good dudes to the curb. In typical tough gal Kylie fashion, she keeps repeating, “Now I showed you what I’m made of.

This album won’t change your life, but it could liven up a party, a long drive, or a jog around the lake. My slightly Eurotrashy self will definitely be keeping this in rotation this summer.


Review by Brittany Shoot

Kelis – Flesh Tone

Will.i.am Music Group/Interscope Records

Kelis has always been brazen, unapologetically growling her way onto the music scene in 1999 with the single “Caught Out There,” a vicious tale of heartbreak and revenge. Since then, she's gone on to release four more albums, achieving her greatest success in 2003, with the now-infamous braggadocio of the song “Milkshake.” With her latest release, Flesh Tone, Kelis makes what could be her boldest—and also blandest—career move yet, reinventing herself as a dance diva.

Flesh Tone is Kelis' first album of new material in four years, since the 2006 release Kelis Was Here. It's also important to note that this is Kelis' first album since the birth of her first child (a son named Knight) and the dissolution of her marriage to Knight's dad, hip-hop legend Nas. It could seem logical, then, that the nine songs comprising Flesh Tone gel together to result in the kind of life-affirming album that a lot of female artists release after such major events; think Madonna's Ray of Light. But no matter what phase, Madonna has pretty much always been entrenched in the dance-pop genre. For Kelis, such a transformation seems a little jarring and, sadly, a lot opportunistic.

With The Neptunes at the helm, her first two albums (1999's Kaleidoscope and 2001's Wanderland) were bass-heavy, chock full of oddball blip-bloops, and, lyrically speaking, often inclined toward the extraterrestrial. Yet even after she completely parted ways with the successful producing duo to release Kelis Was Here, there were still hints of wailing ferocious rock in her hip-hop mix. With Flesh Tone, Kelis makes a bold step, trying to stay relevant by shifting from the sound of her earlier career into more radio-friendly dance pop. In doing so, ironically, she sounds like another dime-a-dozen throwaway commercial diva.

The album is a success in that Kelis' usage of spacey imagery, with which she's been toying for years, has coalesced into an album-length idea, instead of sporadic song themes popping up in between other different tracks. Flesh Tone is much more unified than her previous releases. She is growing and all of her parts are coming together into a more cohesive whole. “22nd Century” serves as a good example.

I consider the second half of the album to be much better than the first. The lyrics are personal, more intimate than the hollow dance music that clogs up the first half. “Brave” and “Song For The Baby” most closely addresses Kelis' personal issues. Another excellent track is “Acapella.” As one of the strongest tracks on the album, it was a solid single choice, conveying an endearing sentimentality with the chorus: “Before you, my whole life was a cappella/now our symphony's the only song to sing.” Its amazing beat also makes it a great track for cutting loose at a nightclub.

At the end of the day, I simply cannot make up my mind on Flesh Tone. The girl who just wants to get crazy-sweaty on the dance floor can't get enough of it. The girl who has loyalties to the Kelis she's known and loved for so long has a hard time reconciling this new manifestation of one of her beloved pop stars, because I question the motives and worry that it's all one big sellout move.

Maybe it's cynicism talking. Or maybe, to paraphrase comedian Maria Bamford, I'm just paralyzed with the hope that Kelis was above all this nonsense. Then again, maybe Kelis was just as bored with her signature sound as many of us were enamored of it—which is why we got Flesh Tone.

Review by M. Brianna Stallings

Blair - Die Young

Autumn Tone Records

Blair Gimma bounces about between art pop and insightful complexity with her first full-length venture, Die Young, juxtaposing the indelible angst of indie folk rock (with help from her daydreamy vocals) with stark lyrical imagery. Die Young was produced by Keith Ferguson, and uses all New Orleans-based musicians as a sort of tribute to where Blair spent her adolescence. Although the deep-rooted sounds of this genre are not entirely reflected in Die Young, the personal nature of the record touches on its sentimentality, as if most of the songs were acoustically derived from adversity and recorded in the solitude of Blair's bathroom.

“Rampage” sets the partial tone for the record, filling the landscape with echoed reverb and a little Pavement-inspired noise rock delight. Listening to electric keyboard synths in the opening verse of “Hearts,” one can almost picture the rolling credits of a favorite 80s soundtrack in all of its soft new wave splendor. “Hello Halo” features Blair's sprightly vocals, cushioned with classic indie distortion and a pulsing, syncopated beat that’s as pleasing as it is fitting, all while Blair recites, “Got a radio in my head…and it tells me what to say"; not to mention Blair’s amusing ode to girly glory, as she continues by deadpanning, “Kittens, rainbows!” “Paris, France” is moody and ethereal, blending electro-pop and the warm glow of ambient-pop, lush and hypnotic. “Candy in the Kitchen” works with heavy beats and moves in the same direction, albeit with a bit of a departure from the rest of the record. Gleefully, Blair sings, “I was dancing to Whitney Houston,” as you adjust your ears earnestly just to hear what she’ll say next.

Die Young is an extension of light summery pop melodies with harsh complex concepts that cut through its airy pop conventionality. Blair’s mix of vulnerability and savvy musical chops work in tandem, even though some of the songs could be on different records. Her personal pilgrimage, lasting over a span of five years, is still in its beginning stages, a cunning premonition to her eventual creative evolution in the years to come.

Review by Cat Veit

Passion Pit - Manners

Colombia

To get the most out of Passion Pit’s debut album, you will need: a healthy appetite for sugary keyboard riffs, plenty of enthusiasm for falsetto vocals, and a large space in which to dance around like crazy. Having gathered these things, you can dive straight into Manners and experience all the colours promised by the album’s cover art. This is music that isn’t afraid of a bit of fluoro.

But once you’ve danced around the room a few times and flopped down on the couch, you might start to notice that there’s darkness in Passion Pit’s world as well. In between those insistent beats and sparkling keyboards, composer Michael Angelokos is asking questions like, "Is this the way my life has got to be?" and "Why do I always need to need you when you’re fleeting?," or simply requesting that we leave him alone.

Angelokos launched Passion Pit three years ago as "a humble one-man multi-track laptop project" from his college dorm room. Since then, he has managed to create Manners and gather a band to perform the album live. Passion Pit even had a hit on the Billboard Heatseekers chart with "Sleepyhead," which made it to number nine.

Passion Pit’s website describes Manners as "baroque and intricate in its construction," which sums up both its appeal and its main stumbling block. There’s enough going on here to sustain multiple listens, but perhaps too much for us to ever really get a grip on the emotion behind the material. Angelokos is in there somewhere, but more often than not, he’s obscured by the blinding brightness of his music.

If the emotion on Manners is hard to make out, its take on gender is all but buried. While Angelokos is generally singing to or about a "you," the identity of this person—like much of the album’s lyrical content—remains a complete mystery.

It’s only as the album winds down that we finally get a glimpse of the Angelokos behind the beats and sparkles. The acoustic versions of "Sleepyhead" and "Moth’s Wings" reveal a thoughtful, reflective man with a sweet, soaring voice, while the final track, a cover of The Cranberries’ "Dreams," suggests either a love of early nineties pop or a wicked sense of humour. All this points to one conclusion: we need to hear more from Passion Pit.

Review by Alice Allan

Sarah McLachlan - Laws Of Illusion

Arista



July 22, 1997 in Mansfield, Massachusetts (at what was then known as Great Woods), I had the pleasure of seeing an amazing group of women perform. Over the whir of blenders and drenched in Frappuccino, I got to hear bits and pieces of the likes of Tracy Chapman, Suzanne Vega, and Sarah McLachlan. But, of course, I was already a fan. I was lucky enough to have been at that first Lilith Fair tour and now, thirteen years later, I hope to be going again. Only this time I won't be wearing a green Starbucks apron.

It's been a while since Sarah McLachlan has released an album and Laws Of Illusion is worth the seven-year wait. Even Mr. Z (who makes fun of me for listening to what he deems "women's music") is a fan and we've been arguing about who gets to take the CD in the car to listen to. This is one of those albums that never makes you hit the "Skip" button on your CD player. Each and every track is wonderful. However, I particularly love "Loving You Is Easy," and can see that it's destined to be one of those classic Sarah McLachlan tunes that will stand the test of time.

If you're a longtime Sarah McLachlan fan, you probably ran out already and bought Laws Of Illusion. If you're new to her hauntingly beautiful voice, what are you waiting for?

Review by Zippy

Cross-posted at The Review Broads

Tobacco - Maniac Meat

Anticon

Sometimes I can send off a record review in ten minutes. Excited by the tunes in my headphones or emanating from my computer’s tinny speakers, my fingers fly across the keys with artistic inspiration. Other times, it takes time and a few repeat spins of the disc to let the music settle into my brain. Tobacco’s Maniac Meat is one such record.

You could ask, what’s happening here? A better question is, what isn’t? So many sounds merge on this album that it can be difficult to discern how these arrangements were conceived, let alone constructed. Tobacco, who is also the frontman of Pittsburgh’s experimental psychedelic outfit Black Moth Super Rainbow, is known as much for his borderline hip-hop beats as he is for his solo analog-based electronic collages. Rolling Stone called his first album “stoner-rock.” Since I don’t indulge, you’ll have to find out about this one yourself.

The entirety of Maniac Meat sounds like a cross between an underwater concert, some synthed-out Dosh, and a few Daft Punk samples. “Creepy Phone Calls” is a dance hit of epic proportion. Less distortion and more danceable synth, the track is lyric-less but soulful. “New Juices From the Hot Tub Freaks” brings some serious rock to the mix with heavy guitars—or at least, a vocoder sample that sounds exactly like them.

The album’s two tracks featuring guest instrumentation or vocals, “Fresh Hex” and “Grape Aerosmith” sound like Beck songs for a reason. Mr. Hansen, auteur of noise, makes a guest appearance, though according to Tobacco, the two never met during their collaboration. The wonders of lo-fi genius at work in our modern world.

BMSR may be SXSW darlings, but Tobacco also gets away with doing few interviews. I like privacy in the age of oversharing. I like artistic merit in a time of paparazzi-based acclaim. And I like anyone who uses a tape machine when a Mac with some audio software will do. Because for some of us, it won’t.

Review by Brittany Shoot

Christina Aguilera - Bionic

RCA Records

Christina Aguilera has been a polemic figure since her breakthrough hit "Genie in a Bottle". She has a sexual aesthetic similar to a young Madonna’s, fashion sense like Cher’s, and raw vocal power comparable to a younger Whitney Houston’s. Her albums contain raunchy sexed-up tracks that appeal to sexually blossoming young adults and stately ballads that appeal to their post-menopausal mothers. Power pop, pop rock, R&B, hip-hop, dance, and even a little alt-rock have been found in some form on her albums. It’s a curse and a blessing for Christina that she can sound like anyone and sing almost anything. She’s always been difficult to categorize. Her ability to be so many things has caused critics to chastise her for not having her own unique presence.

The campaign for the collaboration-heavy Bionic began in the blogosphere with the declaration “Aguilera goes indie.” Ladytron, Le Tigre, Goldfrapp, M.I.A., Santigold, John Hill, and Sia all stepped up to the plate when an apprehensive Aguilera (convinced by her husband) reached out to them. The end result is an album that finds Christina caught between two worlds. Before, she seemed to be making the choice between being a serious singer or a pop star. Now, Christina Aguilera must chose between either being an “indie” darling or being the radio star. In the end, she is seemingly much more interesting doing “indie” impersonations than she is making radio ready pop.

The mainstream songs dominate the eighteen-track standard edition of the album and are, unfortunately, the weakest offerings from the Bionic sessions. Tricky Stewart never really replicates his production magic on his hits like “Umbrella” or “Single Ladies.” The Spanglish “Desnudate” sounds as if J.Lo, Pitbull, and Gloria Estefan went on an all night coke binge and decided to log some studio time in the process. The clunky Spanish translations, which seem to have been lifted directly from an online search engine, cause the track to sink even further. "Glam," touted as a modern "Vogue," is a cute but innocuous gay-friendly track that brings to mind Paris is Burning and Sex and the City. “Prima Donna” is slinky, urban, club fodder salvaged only by a confident hood delivery from Xtina, whose singing eerily sounds more and more like Michael Jackson by the bridge of the track.

Polow Da don’s tracks don’t fare much better. “Woo Hoo” (feat. Nicki Minaj), an ode to Christina’s lady parts, is fun, but the production is too sparse and predictable. “I Hate Boys” is a bratty, juvenile kiss-off that is the biggest stylistic misstep for Christina. It’s whooshing, grating production and taunting melody make it seem as if she’s trying to bite at the heels of Katy Perry and Ke$ha. But, this is a Christina Aguilera album, and with a deluxe version boasting twenty-four tracks in total there is still much more here to be examined.

A feel good collaboration with Le Tigre, “My Girls” is delightfully similar in its levity and playfulness. It combines Le Tigre’s penchant for female assertiveness and Christina’s stiletto wearing, ruby-lipped brand of third wave feminism. The product is a funky, lo-fi, disco-y, '90s, Girl Power pop with a Peaches feature and an adorable riot grrrrl shout-out to her collaborators.

With many of these collaborations Aguilera has been criticized for lacking a true identity and “ripping off” these artists, which I think is somewhat unfair. Can you call it “ripping off” if there is a consensual collaboration involved? In my opinion Xtina has been unable to maintain a clear musical identity out of sheer boredom and dynamic virtuosity. Yes, her voice is the only distinguishing feature that ties her albums together, but in her defense, why do one thing when you can do everything?

One burning question remains. How does one listen to such an album with such extreme stylistic differences from song to song? I’d say treat it like a mix-tape. With this number of tracks, various styles, and collaborators it’s safe to say that Christina Aguilera has made an album for the digital age. There are multiple ten-fifteen track albums that can be created from this lot for everyone to enjoy.

Review by Javi

This is an excerpt from a much longer, more detailed review that can be found at Electroqueer.

Rachael Sage - Delancey Street

MPress Records

On her ninth record, Delancey Street, Rachael Sage once again embraces and pushes the boundaries of her signature sound: lush piano-based pop with plenty of passion and insightful lyrics. Each song tells a distinct story, capturing a moment in time (even if the meanings are sometimes ambiguous).

The enigmatic “Everything Was Red” is one of my favorite tracks, although I’d be hard pressed to tell you what it’s about. “I was just a girl / who fell in love with Judy / Everything was red / It was never just her shoes,” Sage sings. Okay, red shoes and Judy: is she alluding to Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz? However, the rest of the song is about a deep and possibly codependent relationship, with the narrator selflessly trying to be everything her friend needs. “I’m willing to begin anew / I’m willing to be a sister to you/ I’m willing to be the wiser one.” The virtue of a great Rachael Sage song, though, is that you can enjoy the melody and wordplay without knowing the exact meaning of the words.

Sage has a tongue-in-cheek song on most of her albums, and this disc’s entry, “Big Star,” doesn’t disappoint. “Do you wanna be a big star? / It’s okay to say yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” she chant/sings, then goes on to list what is expected of a pop star in terms of appearance and behavior: “You gotta stay skinny / You gotta grow tall / You gotta fight your enemies / You gotta fight friends / You gotta fight depression when the whole shit ends.” The song boasts strong syncopation, guitar with reverb (rather unusual for Sage as her music is usually centered around the piano), drawn-out vocals, and a touch of organ, making it a musical standout in this collection.

The slow, twangy guitar that opens “Meet Me in Vegas” lends it a country feel, and Sage employs breathy, high, and languorous vocals on a song about yearning to save a relationship that appears to be nearing its end. Strings augment the feeling. “Back to Earth” is the troubling tale of a friend who has metaphorically disappeared. The source of the friend’s remoteness is unclear (depression? a cult or new group of friends?), but the helpless frustration of the friend left behind is clear.

“Arrow” starts with Sage’s trademark scatting and features prominent horns and soaring strings. It’s a rebuke to those who would prescribe the requirements for an artist’s life. Despite her anger at those who try to dictate the way she should live, the song is upbeat and has joyous lyrics with vocals alternating between soft on the refrain and loud and almost strident on verses.

The album features two covers, the Hall & Oates hit “Rich Girl” and Irene Cara's film theme “Fame.” It’s a revelation to see how another artist’s interpretation can change the implied meaning of a song, and Sage makes both tracks her own. The difference is most apparent on “Fame,” which she transforms into a slow, torchy ballad that barely resembles the original.

For fans, Delancey Street delivers the great musicianship and creative lyrics we’ve come to expect from Sage along with a couple surprises. For those new to her music, it’s a great place to jump in and start exploring.

Review by Karen Duda

Steff Mahan - Never a Long Way Home

MPress Records

Confession: I don’t know much about country music, and I don’t listen to much country music. But I know what I like, and Steff Mahan’s Never a Long Way Home is damn good music.

The opening track, “If I Let You Go,” starts things off rockin’. Mahan bangs away on a distorted guitar while belting out the lyrics. The song is upbeat, but the story isn’t; the narrator can’t let go of a past relationship even though her former lover is with someone new. Now, “sitting in the ashes of what we used to be” she laments her lost relationship but cannot move on because “I still believe you’ll be coming back for me.” Despite the unrealistic sentiment, the fabulous hooks and passionate vocals pulled me into the song.

“Can’t Hurt Me Anymore” is a toe-tapper about strength and recovery; an understated violin mixes seamlessly with the strumming guitar. Besides being a great song musically, it’s a welcome change to hear a country song about a woman standing up for herself rather than the waiting for her one true love or wallowing in pity. “I survived you because I finally found my truth / you can’t hurt me any more,” Mahan sings with pride.

The title track has an honest to goodness country feel and allows Mahan to demonstrate her talent for storytelling. She tells three vignettes about runaways seeking to return home: a teenage girl who runs away to the city; a husband who leaves a troubled marriage; and a woman on her deathbed. In each instance, the prodigal is welcomed home (to heaven, in the last case). The touching “Carnival Ride” centers on a shy girl’s childhood memories of her father, particularly the piggyback rides he gave her. “He’d spin me around and the world would go by / I swear, man, you could see me fly / we’d fall gently and laugh until we cried.” The slow and reflective, nostalgia-tinged tune aches with sincerity.

“Thought We Were Dancing” is another beautiful song about falling in love and how it can sneak up on us and cause confusion. Mahan succeeds in crafting a song that is romantic but not sappy. The slow and introspective “Save Yourself” is another highlight, full of wonderful imagery that illustrates the rush of infatuation and intimacy at the start of a new romantic relationship. The details are lovely, such as the description of a shared shower: “You draw some hearts on the glass / reach for a towel / and I pull you back.”

The slow-paced “When I Need It Most” is reminiscent of Sheryl Crow’s “Strong Enough” not in musical terms but lyrical content: it’s a plea to be understood and loved despite one’s glaring faults and insecurities. “So I pick fights / and then I shove /… do you love me when I’m scared and when I’m broken? / When words need to be spoken? / Just pull me into you and hold me close / and love me when I need it most.” The prominent violin adds to the ambiance.

Recorded live, the album includes charming snippets of Mahan and her band, as when she exclaims “I just broke a string!” These interjections give us a sense of closeness and gives the album more of a human touch. If you like a no-holds-barred song or a beautiful ballad, chances are you’ll enjoy this album.

Review by Karen Duda

Future Islands - In Evening Air

Thrill Jockey

Synthpop is my steeze. I like to dance, I like to daydream staring out of train windows, and I’m a woman-child passing for an adult on the days that I’m forced to leave the house. This sappy, manufactured genre could have been created just for me and my wild ideas about the big world in which I am so small. I don’t care in which decade it was produced; I’ve been known to adore anything from Modern Talking to Pet Shop Boys to Freezepop. Are there multi-layered keyboards involved in the making of the music? Then I’ll probably like it.

Future Islands, a Baltimore band signed to Thrill Jockey just last year, makes the sort of goofy romantic tunes I love. I can imagine dancing at my best friend’s impending nuptials to “Walking Through That Door,” arms outstretched, spinning in circles in front of the outdated DJ booth in the corner of a Middle American banquet hall. I can even imagine looking at the video fifteen years later, thinking, “That dress is awesomely retro, and so is that song!” I never tire of feeling like it’s 1986 and love is in the air. This song evokes this feeling; every time I put it on, I am elated.

As the second half of the album rolls on, the formerly upbeat party music segues into softer, mellowed pop. Songs like “Tin Man” make use of what sounds like steel drums and a marimba, while “An Apology” puts vocalist Sam Herring’s raspy vocals to the test a la Tom Waits. “Swept Inside,” which is lovely and worth a slow two-step around your living room, is also the sort of song that could end up backing a tearful moment on The City, Brooklyn in the background, sort of gray and mournful, much like your life is supposed to be. This isn’t a criticism; it’s just the way this music works. And it does that–it works.

The album winds down in the way a sappy television show wraps up, or the way the aforementioned wedding will probably end. Everyone will hug and cry and there will be slow-motion laughter that will seem even better looking back. In Evening Air is a complete album experience, from jubilant beginning to bittersweet end.

Review by Brittany Shoot

Whitney Houston - The Deluxe Anniversary Edition

Legacy Recordings

I came of age in the days of AM radio. I can still remember listening to Casey Kasem counting down the Top 40 hits on Sunday nights before FM radio, the Internet, blog radio, and terms like market segmentation became part of our lexicon. In the space of twenty or so minutes, you could hear a song by Barbara Streisand, Journey, The Bee Gees, and maybe something by Johnny Cash as well.

I like to think growing up in the '70s made me more open minded as a person because we had to listen to everything that was played on the radio. We didn’t have the choice to opt out or create our own digital world of favorites the way teenagers do today. My theory is not born out of reality, however, because my twenty-one-year-old niece is much more culturally aware and sophisticated about the world than I was at her age.

As I was listening to this deluxe anniversary edition of Whitney Houston’s greatest hits, I felt some nostalgia for those seemingly less complicated days of my youth. Nostalgia is a powerful emotion because you find yourself remembering an idealized time of your life that is lost forever. I couldn’t help but remember how Houston ruled the airways for most of the '80s and part of the '90s with her powerful renditions of songs like “The Greatest Love of All,” “You Give Good Love,” “Saving All My Love for You,” “Hold Me,” and “How Will I Know.”

Houston was a child prodigy. She began singing at a very young age (she’s the daughter of soul singer Cissy Houston and the cousin of singer Dionne Warwick, so I guess the singing genes run in the family) and her career took off when she was barely out of her teens. She was discovered by the legendary Clive Davis while performing in a New York nightclub.

Houston is a groundbreaking crossover artist who appeals to all demographics with her gospel influenced, pop-soul musical style. She is the only artist with seven consecutive multi-platinum albums. Her cover of Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You” is the highest-selling single of all time. She was also the first African American woman to receive regular play on MTV; her “How Will I Know” video paving the way for such artists as Janet Jackson and Anita Baker.

Although Houston is one of the greatest female singers of her generation, I never followed her career that closely, but I am aware of the personal and professional highs and lows she has experienced over the years. As I listened to her effortlessly belting out some of her trademark hits on this CD, I found myself revisiting memories of where I was when I first heard a particular song. Houston's music, like her life, has become indelibly linked with our triumphs and tribulations. When I think of Whitney Houston and how she continues to endure despite her setbacks, I can’t help but root for her all over again.

Review by Gita Tewari

Peasant - Shady Retreat

Paper Garden Records

Here’s the dilemma: I like a lot of divergent genres. Living in northern Europe the past eighteen months, I’ve been able to embrace my unabashed love of electronic club music and synthpop. I live in the birthplace of Eurovision, in the land of ABBA. Well, I’m twenty miles south of Sweden, but you get the idea.

My partner and I are making plans to move home within the calendar year, though “home” may become anywhere from NYC to Silicon Valley because he’s a start-up guy looking for funding. On an intercontinental phone call with my Indiana-based best friend the other night, I lamented how much I would miss The Voice, a European answer to what MTV was when it actually played music. I can switch on the appallingly commercial station at almost any hour of the day and catch a mix of Danish bubblegum pop, American hip-hop, and French club music. “When I get back, I’ll have to go back to listening to my college radio cry rock again,” I moaned to my pal, only then fully realizing just how far removed I’d become from the world I’d once inhabited.

To ease back into the idea of being stateside, I’ve been listening to Peasant. A bit more heavy-handed production-wise compared to Damien Derose’s first album, Shady Retreat is an excellent follow-up for folks who dig mellow songwriter jams—or people like me, who have to force themselves back into a once-loved genre.

The opening track, “Thinking,” starts rather abruptly, almost as though the producer meant to fade up the track but got excited at the last minute. Thankfully, other songs make up for the unsettling intro. “Prescriptions” is a cross between mellow folk-rock and a country ballad, complete with the clop-clop horse trotting sound effect in the background. It may be nothing more elaborate than a block being hit with a stick a la elementary school music class, but it produced an endearing, lo-fi quality for a wanna-be country gal like myself. I even felt my own Midwestern instincts kicking back in as I listened to “Into the Woods.” “Don’t go out into the woods,” Derose croons. No joke. I can get behind staying home where it’s safe and warm.

If you think you’re a club kid who hates sad bastard singer-songwriters, think again.

Review by Brittany Shoot

April Smith and the Great Picture Show – Songs for a Sinking Ship

Little Roscoe

Not many people have heard of April Smith, but I’ve become quite the enthusiastic fan. Her music combines elements of pop and rock, but her voice has more of a jazz quality that gives the end result a great mix and unique style. I loved her previous album, loveletterbombs, and I saw Smith perform live a couple of times, so when I heard she was raising money for a new album through Kickstarter, I signed right up to contribute. But then she posted the track listing for Songs for a Sinking Ship, and I already knew half the songs. Needless to say, I felt a bit let down. Sure, some were from her live EP, and I expected them to show up again, but one went as far back as her 2005 album!

I kept an open mind and eagerly hit play when I finally got my copy. Halfway through the album I was already swallowing all of my doubtful words. From the first song, “Movie Loves a Screen” (my favorite of the new tracks), the energy and style wakes you up and makes you pay attention. She sustains this throughout the album, even on the slower tracks that draw you in with her emotional words. The pleasant surprise was that tracks I already knew were mostly different, better versions of what I’ve heard before. By the time I got to the last track, I was sorry the album was finished and immediately started listening to it all over again.

What really impressed me was the song “The One That Got Away.” This ballad from loveletterbombs was one of the songs that made me a fan in the first place. The song has gotten a complete makeover for this album, and now I can’t decide which version is my favorite. The tempo is sped up, the minimal instrumentation is replaced with a carnival feel, and what once sounded like a brokenhearted plea now sounds like an embrace of her circumstances. I have complete confidence that if she re-released a new version of loveletterbombs, I’d pre-order that too.

For people who aren’t already fans, it’s hard to listen to April Smith without finding a song that piques your interest and makes you curious to hear more. But even somebody who already owns her other albums won’t feel let down by spending the money to get this one. This is one of the best albums I’ve heard in a long time, and I can hardly wait for the next one.

Review by frau sally benz