So the world is in the toilet, and we’re all pretty bummed.  It’s not all that bad though kiddo, hold that chin up.  Some grim news sure, but you couldn’t have asked for a better messenger.  TV on the Radio’s Dear Science assumes the role of said messenger, and aims to paint a rather stark picture of the world’s current condition. But it’s always good to hear bad news from someone dear (tee-hee), and Dear Science delivers the news gift wrapped in a soulful funk’ified package, bedazzled in such a manner that you forgot why you were so bummed out in the first place.  It’s like Patch Adams giving you the prognosis… yeah, there’s the whole malignant cancer thing, but he’s got a clown nose!

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Loyalty to Loyalty, the latest from Fullerton, California’s Cold War Kids, bleeds ambition and effort.  Valiant shots at social commentary and obtuse profundity abound.  Musically, new doors are opened, then some are closed, and when they are, windows are vehemently broken to keep from monotony.  However, these blogosphere honeys of 2006 stood no chance in 2008.  Cold War Kids were most likely written off by hipster media, recently enlightened bloggers, and hapless critics before Loyalty to Loyalty was ever conceptualized by Willett and company.  Possibly.  But as music enthusiasts, we’re not here to pity them, just rip ‘em to shreds.

So, with that being said…

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There’s nothing sadder than an artist that consistently chases past success and comes up short each and every time. Tricky is an artist that is at once intriguing and frustrating in that he’ll probably never quite attain the success of Massive Attack or his debut solo work Maxinquaye, but on his latest effort Knowle West Boy he comes closer to finding his past mojo and shouldn’t have trouble finding new fans for it.

The album title is a nod to the area in Bristol, England where he was born and raised and the album sounds like an attempt at trying to acknowledge not only his roots in locale but also his roots in musical style.

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Although Ms. Lewis can easily persuade my libido towards seemingly any end, my sensible, less carnal side has a hard time believing Jenny Lewis, the child Hollywood star turned indie sweetheart, is as down-home, grass rooted as her solo career has asserted.  Rabbit Fur Coat, her first effort where she teamed up with the Watson Twins was fairly convincing so, a little kiss from Acid Tongue might just do me in.  Within the first few seconds of “Black Sand,” Acid Tongue’s polished opener, it’s obvious that production jumped up a few rungs on the priority ladder since Lewis’ last studio sessions as a solo act.

Read more of: Jenny Lewis: “Acid Tongue”

With only 3 tracks, to call it an E.P. would typically be a tad generous; Mogwai’s latest is more of a teaser single.  However, the fact that it clocks in just under the 15 minute mark and because the tracks are so deliciously dense, they can call it what ever the hell they want to. The E.P. opens with the title track “Batcat,” which will also appear on the upcoming full-length The Hawk Is Howling later this month. In addition to this sneak peek, you get two non-album tracks: the look-how-arbitrarily-silly-we-can-name-our-songs titled “Stupid Prick Gets Chased By the Police and Loses His Slut Girlfriend” and “Devil Rides,” featuring guest vocals from the 13^th Floor Elevators’ godfather of psyche Roky Erickson.

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As someone who lost hours and hours to guitar tinkering after hearing …And Justice For All, when Rick Rubin was announced as Metallica’s producer for the new album which was to be built upon the angst and energy of the early days, my anticipation began to grow. James Hetfield only encouraged said anticipation when wielding various confident and bombastic statements such as “I think we successfully recalled the feelings of ‘Master of Puppets’ but with the knowledge of now. We did a lot of looking forward but we kept looking in the rear view mirror” (via LA Times).

Read more of: Metallica: “Death Magnetic”

The opening guitar’s jaunty dissonance gets me thinking I’ve heard this before, but the mid-song scattered howls in “A New Parade” reassure me that I’m mistaken… for now. “Loosen Up” stacks some lazy blues licks and an ethereal, slightly off pitch slow strum atop galloping percussion, all which leads dead into Delff’s shredded scream as the song’s finale (who needs a cadence?). “Air Better Come” is loaded with head bobbing beats, albeit head bobbing beats that Radiohead patented years ago (if you’re gonna copy someone though, Phil Selway isn’t too bad a choice). As the album progresses, I wonder if The Shaky Hands toured with Wolf Parade during the Apologies… era. Musically, the first half of Lunglight wants you to believe something, almost baiting you to connect with an ornately prescribed sound, but the album begins evolving and by the end your upside down and starting it all over to figure out why.

Read more of: The Shaky Hands: “Lunglight”

A stand-in in film and television is a person who substitutes for the actor before filming, for technical purposes such as lighting.  Source: Wikipedia

In short, if you own and enjoyed The Stage Names, then The Stand Ins is a no-brainer. The two albums are cohesive enough to share a release date and liner notes, but differ in all the right ways, allowing The Stand Ins to shine separately and truly embody a completely new, fresh album from Okkervil River. Sheff and crew, again under the direction of Brian Beattie, are ultimately a band that makes albums. No filler, lean in production, intelligently orchestrated, and witty, The Stand Ins is a smart and complete effort.

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My Morning Jacket’s latest album, Evil Urges, conjures up a brew of familiar sounds yet still manages to elevate the trajectory of Jim James and company’s aim. The title track opens the album and you’ll have to hear what sounds like a Prince imitation/homage to believe it. It set me back a bit at first, but once I got used to James’ falsetto blending with the groove the rest of MMJ lays down I settled in for the ride. Have you ever imagined what it would sound like if The Bee Gees were a little bit country and a little less asshole? Me neither, but thanks to the song “Thank You Too!” I can now say I’ve not only heard an attempt but it didn’t make me vomit in my mouth. Read more of: My Morning Jacket: “Evil Urges”

Upon first hearing “The Step and the Walk” from The Duke Spirit’s second album Neptune I couldn’t help but think, “Wow, what a great sounding pop song”. Then I listened to the album.

This is a well-produced album with competent musicians that reminds me of other bands that frankly, I’d rather listen to. Liela Moss has a sexy voice that reminds me of Hope Sandoval from Mazzy Star, but it never quite hits me the same way.  Neptune isn’t quite  stale or entirely dull, but I can’t foresee multiple listens either. If you’re in the mood for an album that sounds like something from the early 90’s or don’t care for bands that want to express something new or real, well here you go. The best example of how their music sounds can be summed up by telling you that the trumpet on “Wooden Heart” is resplendent in its ethereal simplicity. Really. And ouch.

I remember after watching The Others (that creepy thriller with Nicole Kidman) at my local movie theater, I turned to my girlfriend at the time and we both agreed that not only was it very good, but it might be better than the M. Night Shymalong-a-ding-dong’s The Sixth Sense. Both films share a now familiar plot reveal, but since The Sixth Sense came first it is widely regarded as the finer film.

The Black Keys are a two-piece (guitar and drums) band from Akron, Ohio that play the blues. Sound familiar? On their new album Attack & Release, The Black Keys employ Danger Mouse as their producer to help stretch the boundaries and the result is a much richer, dynamic sound that pushes the music forward without sacrificing any sonic intensity. Gone is the raw sound of Rubber Factory and Magic Potion, now replaced with a dense studio sound without squandering away the textures of Dan Auerbach’s beautiful guitar work. On “I Got Mine” Auerbach sings, “I was a movin’ man / In my younger days / But I’ve grown out / Of my ramblin’ ways” evoking a maturity that is prevalent throughout the album.  He also sings on “Things Ain’t What They Used To Be” that it “…doesn’t mean a thing to me.”  Jaded and world-weary? Perhaps. Tired and derivative? Hardly.

Maybe if The Black Keys wore peppermint colors or if Patrick Carney had dimples and wore pig-tails in his hair they may have been appreciated a little quicker and a little more than their contemporaries, but timing can be everything. Who cares, this band gets it right and continues to churn out great music. Viva Los Claves de Negra.