// Category Archive for: Reviews

Weep, Alate

By Less Lee Moore

An alate is a winged reproductive of a social insect (especially ants or termites, but the term can also be applied to aphids and some thrips). Alate females are typically those destined to become queens (also referred to as gynes), whereas alate males are occasionally referred to as “drones” (or “kings”, in the case of termites). However, the existence of reproductives that do not have wings necessitates a term to distinguish the winged from the wingless reproductive forms. This is an example of polymorphism associated with eusociality.
—Wikipedia entry on “alate”

On Weep‘s latest album, Alate, vocalist and guitarist Doc Hammer stretches his musical and vocal capacities into heretofore unexplored territories, with mixed results. Although not as immediately gratifying as the band’s previous release, Worn Thin, the expansive nature of Alate still brings considerable pleasures.

Opening track “It’s So Late” seems to shrug and say, “Oh hey, remember us? We’re Weep and this is what we sound like,” featuring all the hallmarks that we’ve come to associate with the band: ringing guitars, New Romantic synths, vaguely Goth basslines, and memorable melodies. Yet immediately we sense a change in Weep’s sound. Hammer’s voice is still gravelly, but there is a sprightly nature that we have not heard before. It’s startling and charming all at once.

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Micah Sheveloff, Exhibitionist

By Chelsea Spear

Listening to Micah Sheveloff‘s solo debut brings to mind a variant on everyone’s favorite movie trailer voiceover: “IN A WORLD. Where smug, solipsistic bros have taken over the airwaves. ONE MAN. Can save the ‘singer/songwriter’ genre from navel-gazing boredom.”

While Micah Sheveloff easily fits into this niche, his work lacks the snoozy self-absorption that has given it a bad name. His music, with its rich melodies, rolling bar chords, quotable lyrics, and that lived-in marvel of a voice, elevates his material from the closing credits of Grey’s Anatomy to something more transporting and otherworldly.

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Big Black Delta, Tour EP

By Less Lee Moore

While Big Black Delta might seem like the name of a blues band, the new musical incarnation of former Mellowdrone and touring M83 member Jonathan Bates sounds nothing like that genre.

The new four-song EP from the band—created for their recent tour—sounds more like the soundtrack to an apocalyptic Blade Runner sequel; you can almost visualize Rachael smoking in the Tyrell Corporation building. Fitting, as Big Black Delta is actually a reference to UFO folklore.

Even with its vaguely retro synths, “Betamax” isn’t some Kraftwerk retread. The drums are too booming, and Bates’s voice is too romantic for that. What’s striking is how warm and sensual his voice is against the coldness of keyboard explosions, especially when he breaks out the falsetto. The end ushers in some Hans Zimmer-ish synthy strings before ending abruptly.

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Harry Shearer, Can’t Take A Hint

By Melissa B.

Can a record that relies as heavily on current events as Harry Shearer‘s Can’t Take A Hint stand the test of time? Political humor is almost ephemeral, and the political climate and players mercifully change so quickly. Songs about Herbert Hoover, for example, are so rarely sung today, and sea shanties about the Great Fire of London have fallen out of favor. So how does one approach a record in 2012 that has songs about the 2008 election, the 2010 Deepwater Horizon oil disaster, and the Iraq war? If this album had arrived two years ago, it might have been cutting in its satire. At this point, however, it feels a bit creaky.

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Booker T. & The M.G.s: A Sweet, Sweet Serving of Green Onions

By John Lane

Yes, Virginia, back in the ancient times of the mystical 1960s, there was a universe that expanded far beyond The Beatles, even though they were heaven-sent. While The Beatles were decompressing after playing to a kajillion people at Shea Stadium or elsewhere, I guarantee you that somewhere in their collective mind were the righteous sounds of Booker T. & The M.G.s taking them to a soulful place.

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Sleepies, Weird Wild World

By Less Lee Moore

Sleepies have a deceptively lazy name. If their music makes you sleepy, something’s wrong with you. According to a recent Noisey interview, they also considered Tires & Skunks as a name. That alone should be enough to pique your interest. Oh, and their new album Weird Wild World is fantastic, by the way.

Right off, there are going to be a lot of people comparing them to Nirvana with accusatory tones in their voices, but come on, didn’t that critique go out of style a few years ago? Sleepies are more reminiscent of Flipper (a huge influence on Nirvana) and Flop (who also happen to be an early ’90s Seattle band). If this means nothing to you, you should look up those two bands on YouTube immediately.

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Nude Beach, II

By Less Lee Moore

When MTV premiered in 1981, it was astonishingly free form. You’d see a wide range of musical styles represented. New wave, rap, and heavy metal hadn’t taken over the mainstream yet, so there was still a lot of straight-up rock & roll interspersed between U2, Gary Numan, and Adam and the Ants videos. Had they existed back in the day, Brookyln’s three-piece Nude Beach would have been on heavy rotation.

The band sounds like they’d fit perfectly on the soundtrack to a never-released Amy Heckerling or Martha Coolidge movie from the early ’80s, successfully straddling that precipice between pure rock and power pop. This description might cause some to grumble about “Brooklyn hipsters” but Nude Beach’s three members—Chuck Betz, Jim Shelton, and Ryan Naideau—look and sound completely unpretentious. Sure they borrow heavily from the past, but when it’s done in such a non-self-conscious way, it’s refreshing.

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Los Lobos, Kiko 20th Anniversary Edition: featuring Kiko Live, Kiko Live DVD/Blu-Ray

By J Howell

Los Lobos, photo &copy Drew Reynolds

It’s funny how time flies, and frankly a bit unnerving to think that Los Lobos‘ masterpiece, Kiko, is almost old enough to drink legally. In celebration of the benchmark album’s twentieth anniversary, Shout! Factory has a whole lot of Kiko for Lobos fans new and old to enjoy.

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Maxïmo Park, The National Health

By Less Lee Moore

On Maxïmo Park‘s Wikipedia entry there’s a great quote about singer Paul Smith: “When he first joined we didn’t know if he could [sing]; just that he was a lunatic jumping around in a suit, it felt like the last piece of the jigsaw.” When listening to The National Health, it’s immediately obvious that serendipity was on their side. At times Smith exhibits close, sensual vocals similar to those of Martin Gore (but minus the vibrato); other times, his soaring voice has flashes of Midge Ure.

The National Health is the band’s fourth album since their debut release in 2005, but it’s my introduction to them. There are thirteen songs included, all evidence of a self-assured bunch. Maxïmo Park’s songs are buoyant and radio-friendly, boasting interesting lyrics as well as first-class musicianship.

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Basquiat Goes To The Cinema

By Chelsea Spear

Jean-Michel Basquiat: The Radiant Child, 2010

Jean-Michel Basquiat’s life seems all but made for the silver screen. The art world star lived fast. During his 27 years on the planet, he created a complex, engaging body of work. In addition to his solo paintings, he collaborated with Andy Warhol and formed the No Wave band Gray. He died young as the result of self-destructive habits. And he left a good-looking corpse. The half-life of flickering 16mm and unforgiving video reveals a young man with the sulky charisma of a 1950s screen idol.

About a decade after Basquiat’s death, he began surfacing in the movies. His life has the potential for either a brilliant big-screen epic in the style of Lust for Life or a misdirected attempt at catching lightning in a bottle. How have the different films about Jean-Paul Basquiat stacked up?

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