Nick Millhiser and Alex Frankel of New York retro-Disco duo Holy Ghost! “come back,” with legendary Electro producer Arthur Baker in tow, with a shot-for-shot remake of New Order's 1983 video “Confusion,” in the new clip for their recent digi-single “I Will Come Back.”



The “I Will Come Back” digi-single was released to the internet via Green Label Sound, the Mountain Dew soft-drink company's eclectic netlable, a couple of weeks back, and it can still be downloaded, completely free of charge, from the Green Label Sound website.

SERENGETI & POLYPHONIC
‘Terradactyl’
Anticon
(2009)

Two Summers ago Chicagoans Dave Cohn and Will Freyman—alias Serengeti & Polyphonic—released ‘Don’t Give Up,' their debut album as a duo. When the album dropped I summed it up as Hip-Hop's emotronic answer to ‘Give Up,’ Ben Gibbard and Jimmy Tamborello's breakout laptop confessional released under their The Postal Service moniker. By year's end ‘Don’t Give Up' had earned a place as my favorite album of 2007. It shared that position with Athens, Georgia Indie-Pop veterans of Montreal's self-deconstructing opus ‘Hissing Fauna, are You the Destroyer?,’ an album where oM frontman Kevin Barnes exhibited a penchant for a similar brand of lyrical wit, electroacoustic whimsy and cathartic soul-baring that drove ‘Don’t Give Up' to the top of my “best of” list.

Barnes described ‘Hissing Fauna...’ as a “concept album” formulated around his own personal transformation into a fictional character. And while Serengeti is himself known for his ability to craft cohesive concept albums where he inhabits the skins of his characters in an almost frighteningly authentic manner, ‘Don’t Give Up' wasn't one. It felt like one, due in large part to ‘Geti’s therapeutically biographical songwriting and an especially fluid song sequencing arrangement that made Polyphonic's space-symphony beats flow like an extended suite. But if ‘Don’t Give Up' was a concept-based character piece it was one where the character Serengeti was playing was none other than his alter-ego Dave Cohn. It was this personally revelatory nature and sonic singularity that lent ‘Don’t Give Up' much of its strength.

Cohn and Freyman's sophomore effort—and debut for the anticon. label—‘Terradactyl’ isn't fleshed out in quite the same way. This time ‘Geti is a bit more scattershot topically and thematically. Like any good writer who draws on what he knows he can’t help but be anecdotal or self-referential in places. But ‘Terradactyl’ isn't all about putting him under the microscope. It isn't concerned with following the antics any of his colorful characters from start to finish either. In that respect it recalls his earlier solo releases, where his eclectic interests and detailed character studies were corralled by a focus on straightforward rhyming. It also bears a likeness to his 2008 collaboration with Tony Trimm and Renee-Louise Carafice as Yoome, which eschewed linear storytelling in favor of song-length viginettes portraying individual life-scenes threaded together by common themes and concepts.

It's those concepts and themes—crime, drugs, addiction, depression, disaffection, disenfranchisement, dysfunction, identity dismorphia, media irresponsibility, socio-political injustice and socio-economic disparity—that not only link ‘Terradactyl’ to Yoome's ‘Boredom of Me—not to mention a great deal of Serengeti’s catalog in general—but the individual songs on the album to each other. I mean, an album that boasts a song about homelessness—the beautiful “Dawn Under the Bridge” featuring Renee-Louise Carafice—and a song about a European husband disturbed by his wife's steroid abuse“Steroids” featuring doseone as the wife—has gotta have something keeping it together, right? And there is...a unique insight into the human condition which betrays Dave Cohn as the Hip-Hop generation's heir to subversive composers like Leonard Cohen and Randy Newman.

Serengeti & Polyphonic “Dawn Under the Bridge” feat. Renee-Louise Carafice


Well, that and Polyphonic's work behind the boards of course! Even if ‘Terradactyl’ isn't as seamless as ‘Don’t Give Up,' his otherworldly blend of baroque instrumentalism and futuristic programming—a Techno-Folk amalgam that gives the psychedelic Rave sound of Animal Collective's ‘Merriweather Post Pavillion’ a run for its glow-sticks—works like sonic epoxy to make it sound like it is. Some of his strongest contributions include the aforementioned “Dawn Under the Bridge,” “Playing in Subway Stations,” a concoction of jangly guitars and Bruce Haack-ian synths, the Wong Kar-wai soundtrack-ish “My Negativity,” “Call the Law,” which pits crunchy robot-stomp beats and laser-gun synths against angelic harps, “My Patriotism,” whose mandolin, accordion and rubber-ball beats sounds like “Lately I Haven't Been Feeling Well Pt. 2,” and the Moroder-plays-Atari-plays-chanson-sounding “Calliope.”

Serengeti & Polyphonic “Call the Law”


When it dropped I didn't know ‘Don’t Give Up' would become my favorite album of the year. I knew it was dope, and that it was a massive achievement from one of the few folks working in the Hip-Hop milieu whom I respect as an artist. I knew it was emotionally affecting, and that it had a heart and soul that most modern music, especially Hip-Hop, usually lacks. But I didn't know how it would creep into my consciousness as time went by, how I'd relate to it so wholly, or how superior it would sound—lyrically, vocally and musically—compared to the majority of records released during 2007. By the same token I don't know if ‘Terradactyl’ will for sure be my absolute favorite LP of 2009 by the time the New Year rolls around. All I know is that it's another outstanding entry in the already astounding catalog of an artist who is undoubtedly one of my favorites of the modern era.

Serengeti & Polyphonic @ MySpace

ESSER
‘Braveface’
Transgressive/Chocolate Industries
(2009)

At first glance London, England-based crooner Esser may look like the bastard-child of former The Smiths frontman Morrissey and Christopher “Kid” Reid of the late-‘80s/early-’90s Rap duo Kid 'n Play. But musically the multi-instrumentalist and former Ladyfuzz drummer—then known simply as Benjamin Esser—sounds more like the post-Hip-Hop, post-Boy-Band, post-internet, Electro-Pop-revival-era's answer to the eclectic, discotheque-friendly, New Wave pub-rock sound of Ian Dury.

The 23-year-old bedroom Pop maestro, who's reportedly been tapped by Cee-Lo of Goodie Mob and Gnarls Barkley fame to contribute production to a forthcoming solo LP, dropped his genre-eschewing debut ‘Braveface’ on UK label Transgressive in May. He's since been picked up by Chicago-based indie Chocolate Industries who released the vaudeville-Rock ballad “I Love You” as a single complete with a Prince Paul remix and plan to re-release ‘Braveface’ here in the states in August.

At its core ‘Braveface’ is a Pop record that owes a debt to off-kilter Pop-Rock acts like 10cc, Sparks, Queen and the aforementioned Ian Dury, as well as the popular Brit-Pop bands of the ‘90s. But Esser’s ear is attuned to the sounds of today's airwaves too, so his melange of straighforward Pop-Rock (“Bones,” “I Love You,” “Satisfied”), proto-Punk (“Leaving Town”), Glam-Rock (the title track, “Work it Out”) and Electro-Pop (“Headlock,” “Stop Dancing”) never sounds dated.

Esser “Headlock”


Think “Arctic Monkeys versus Calvin Harris versus Mr. Hudson” and you'll be on the right track.

Esser @ MySpace

NOSAJ THING
‘Drift’
Alpha Pup
(2009)

Like the subject of the review I posted yesterday, Los Angeleno Jason Chung, otherwise known as Nosaj Thing, is a rising star on the Glitch-Hop/Boom-Clap production scene pioneered by the likes of Guillermo Scott Herren, Dabrye, Caural and Daedelus, amongst others. He's also like Hudson Mohawke insomuch as his beatmaking aesthetic embraces a number of the stylistic conceits unique to UK Dubstep. But whereas Hudmo's beats sometimes imitate the nervous double-time programming common to Dubstep, Grime and Crunk, Nosaj's productions mimic Dubstep's ghostly atmospheres, spacious minimalism, half-step tempos and cavernous basslines within a framework of chilly, disjointed, downtempo Electronica.

His debut long-player for the Alpha Pup Records label is titled ‘Drift,’ a perfect title for a record that leaves the listener awash in a sea of dubbed-out IDM compositions that ebb-and-flow with a singular fluidity. The record opens with an ethereal intro called “Quest” which reminds one of Animal Collective's recent ‘Merriweather Post Pavillion’ without the vocals. Follow-up cut “Fog” flips futuristic synth melodies and a slightly motorik beat inspired by the work of Kraftwerk and vintage synthesizer-soundtrack-masters Giorgio Moroder and Vangelis, then submerges it in wobbly synth-bass. While the galloping “Voices,” which comes toward's the record's finale, sounds like something from Dubstep maverick Burial's 2007 classic ‘Untrue’ played at half-speed.

Nosaj Thing “Voices”


Does he sound like Arena-Rock-tronica duo Ratatat if they were from Detroit and enamoured of Dubstep? Fusion savant Clutchy Hopkins if he made icy Electronica? The newest name in a long line of Robo-Hop beatmakers? Or is he just that dude who KiD CuDi beat-jacked for “Man on the Moon?” Whatever your take on Nosaj Thing might be, don't let his debut album “drift” by without a listen.

Nosaj Thing @ MySpace

HUDSON MOHAWKE
‘Polyfolk Dance EP’
Warp Records
(2009)

Confession time...I haven't really dug a Prefuse 73 record since 2002's ‘The ’92 Vs. ‘02 Collection.’ Don't get me wrong, I‘ve liked most of the albums he’s released over the last few years well enough, but none of them really stuck like his early work. Truth be told, it's probably for that very reason that I'm not blogging about his newest record, the more-than-decent ‘Everything She Touched Turned Ampexian,’ right now. Instead I'm blogging about Glasgow, Scotland-based DJ and producer Hudson Mohawke, a relative newcomer to the Glitch-Hop/Boom-Clap scene Prefuse 73 helped found.

His new six-track ‘Polyfolk Dance EP’ actually reminds me a lot of a crunked-up ‘The ’92 Vs. ‘02 Collection’ with its micro-edited and pitch-bent vocals and garbled-up instrument sounds. And with the slicing-n-dicing being done over soulful synth melodies and big, gritty drums it's just as evocative of the off-kilter, malfunctioning robot rhythms of J Dilla and his Detroit disciples as well. But hailing from the Scottish half of Great Britain as he does it shouldn't surprise that the former DMC UK champ incorporates elements unique to British styles like Dubstep and Grime into his twitchy productions too!

Hudson Mohawke “Yonard”


Don't let the assaultive percussion of “Yonard” fool you though. Hudmo imbues most of the tunes on ‘Polyfolk Dance’ with genuinely pretty melodies that delight the ear in addition to weird squelches & bleeps that confuse the senses and aggressive beats that exercise the neck. In fact, his ear for melody may be the thing that really sets his EP apart from its legion of instrumental competitors.

Hudson Mohawke @ MySpace
Hudson Mohawke @ Warp Records

MAGIC ARM
‘Make Lists, Do Something’
Switchflicker
(2009)

I have a lot of admiration for musicians like Marc Rigelsford a.k.a. Manchester/Sussex UK's Magic Arm, who despite the immense challenge of producing and recording an album completely on their own manage to completely blow me away with what they walk out of the studio with. ‘Make Lists, Do Something’ is a deeply intriguing collection of tracks that have been holding my attention for close to two weeks now. Granted, I usually give myself about a week of listening time before organizing my thoughts on an album but in this case the extra time has been occupied by me just enjoying the album.

‘Make Lists, Do Something’ first hits your ears with “Widths and Heights,” a song which at first throws you for a loop with its irregular cadence and eerie barbershop quartet-esque harmonizing. The effect of which is not unlike that of the individual members of a Rock band tuning their instruments and practicing little riffs before settling down to play. “Widths and Heights” then transforms into a delightfully catchy yet tight sounding track with a simple set of instruments including a poppy drum beat, an acoustic guitar strumming simple chords, and an organ that follows suit. When Rigelsford chimes in with the accompanying vocals it's clear that he has a strong command over all aspects of his music. His ability to harmonize with himself is very impressive and luckily is found throughout the entire album. Instruments such as synthesizers and horns appropriately introduce themselves into this and other tracks making ‘Make Lists, Do Something’ a great mix of Folk, Electronic, Rock, and Pop.

Magic Arm “Widths and Heights”


Rigelsford has been quoted as saying “I'm literally trying to write Pop music, but it never comes out that way. There's always a dark edge to it.” Contrary to his own belief, Rigelsford does manage to produce a handful of tracks on ‘Make Lists, Do Something’ that could satisfy even the most diehard Pop music fan. Then again, his self critique may have some merit. Because a majority of pop musicians don't write their own material the music tends to be a bit shallow, a trait that most producers obfuscate by over producing the music. While there's no doubt that ‘Make Lists, Do Something’ is thoughtfully written, produced, recorded, and mastered, the fact is quite clear that it is written and performed by the same person. The “dark edge” he refers to doesn't disqualify his music from being Pop, it just helps to redefine what Pop is; a crusade that is long overdue.

Not all of the tracks on ‘Make Lists, Do Something’ are straight up Pop or Rock or Electronic even. “The Coach House,” for example, takes a strange but interesting turn and introduces what could be described as a poultice of diatonic Elizabethan, a Wild West film score, and Aphex Twin's ‘Ambient Works.’ I‘ve been particularly fond of the track “Outdoor Games” too. I love the combination of Rigelsford’s acoustic finger-picking and the simple articulation of the measures with brass instruments, not to mention his voice and his amazing harmonizing. This song in particular has a timeless quality to it and reminds me of those great tracks The Moody Blues wrote during the 60's.

Magic Arm “Outdoor Games”


Because Rigelsford has an innate ability to seamlessly yet subtly blend a wide range of genres together his music is beyond unique but still carries an air of familiarity and although his tracks are scrupulously put together, Rigelsford creates music that doesn't insist upon itself. ‘Make Lists, Do Something’' is a versatile album that a person can sit down to pay special attention to or play in the background while running errands. The more I listen to Make Lists, Do Something,' I keep finding elements of Rigeslford's song writing that intrigue me. I have a feeling it's going to stay in my rotation for a long time.

MOCKY
‘Saskamodie’
Crammed Discs
(2009)

It's a beautiful Spring day here in the urban wasteland that is Springfield, Massachusetts. That's actually a rare commodity since the season of Spring is usually virtually non-existent around here. Typically it goes from being near-Winter cold—like yesterday's 40 degrees—to Summer heat—like the near-90-degree temperatures forecasted for this weekend. But today the mercury is hovering right around 70, the sky is blue, the sun is beaming, and there's a nice breeze blowing. Like I said—beautiful!

Sadly the sun has started its journey towards the horizon, so there's not that much day left to enjoy. But as luck would have it I just found the perfect soundtrack for enjoying the Springtime weather on a relaxing Friday afternoon which promises to ease into the first day of pre-maturely-arrived Summertime. It's a track called “Birds of a Feather” from Saskatchewan, Canada-born multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, composer, arranger and producer Mocky's recently-released ‘Saskamodie,’ which dropped earlier this month on Crammed Discs.

An amalgam of Soul, Jazz and Pure-Pop that ends up sharing a lot in common with the easy-listening Pop and sunshiny Soft-Rock of the late-‘70s and early-’80, “Birds of a Feather” is one of only a handful of tracks from the mostly-instrumental disc to feature vocals. Over a strutting beat, a warm, undulant bassline, feathery chimes, billowing keys and a catchy whistle-hook Mocky gently croons up a story of ornithological commitment between two tree-top dwelling lovers. The bird-based metaphor may be playful, but its romantic themes are perfectly relatable, and its imagery of lovers weathering a storm to enjoy their day in the sun only helps bolster the breezy, sun-drenched quality of the music.

Mocky “Birds of a Feather”


“Birds of a Feather” features input from frequent collaborator Gonzales and The Hidden Cameras' frontman Joel Gibb, and some of Mocky's other good friends—like Jamie Lidell and Leslie Feist—pop up elsewhere. These two tracks, “Somehow Someway” featuring Feist and “Music to My Ears” featuring Lidell—which are definite highlights—also happen to be the disc's only other vocal tracks. The remainder of the album is comprised mostly of languid instrumentals in a style I like to call Staxarachian, which is to say it melds soulful overtones with the jazzy, Orchestral-Pop style of Burt Bacharach...With hints of Brazilian Samba and Bossa Nova, bits of vintage soundtrack ambiance, a smidge of continental Pop, and a pinch a-piece of Pysche and Folk thrown in for good measure.

The fluttery “Jinty” hits a mark somewhere between ‘60s Jazz Fusion instrumentalists like Cannonball Adderly and Ramsey Lewis and the slick proto-Smooth Jazz arrangements Bob James and company were doing for CTI and that school of acts in the ’70s. But one of my favorite mostly-instrumental jams is “Golden Dream,” a sensuously throbbing organic Disco number with a loose jazzy groove and a sophisticated symphonic edge that thumps and bumps with a heavy kick-drum and insistent bassline.

I can't say we‘ll have many more days like this. But if we do ’Saskamodie' will provide plenty of listening material perfect for hand-holding, sunlit walks in the park, picnics and late-night drives under the stars. Even those of us who can't get out and do any of those things should still be able to enjoy the sensations of sun on our skin and wind in our hair simply by listening to the record in the comfort of our own home—no matter what the weather's like outside.

Mocky @ Official Website
Mocky @ MySpace
Mocky @ Crammed Discs

CLUTCHY HOPKINS
‘Music is My Medicine’
Ubiquity Records
(2009)

Hirsute multi-instrumentalist Clutchy Hopkins has been an eye-patch and a peg-leg away from looking like a pirate since he emerged from his Mojave desert exile in 2006 with ‘Who is Clutchy Hopkins,’ his mystery-shrouded debut. But on his newest record—the long-awaited ‘Music is My Medicine,’ a project that finds Clutchy pairing up with an equally enigmatic Jamaican medicine man and instrument-maker named Lord Kenjamin for a curry-flavored and collie-scented descent into yard-style Dub madness—he actually starts to sound like one. Fear not though, because the only “booty” these Pirates of the Caribbean are concerned with is the one on your backside, which you‘re bound to feel compelled to bob around like a sea-buffeted buoy to the duo’s funky-funky beats.

Make no mistake either, the bearded savant is still churning out the dusty, dirty, lo-fidelity Jazz-Funk-fusion laced with hallucinatory psychedelia and proggy overtones that has become his signature sound on ‘Music is My Medicine.’ The album isn't the out-and-out Reggae or Dub project—with Clutchy laying down skanking “riddims” and Lord Kenjamin sing-jay-ing all over them—that I thought it would be when Hopkins himself first told me about it a few years ago. Instead it's a collection of loping breakbeats, haunting melodies, minimalist orchestration and vinyl-era baroque arrangements in the Hopkinsian tradition augmented by more dubby effects than usual, cavernous basslines, an array of new and exotic percussion, and a creeping waft of eerie melodica that lend it all a spirit of island “adventure.”

So just forget the word Reggae...This is a new brand of fusion compiled from straight-out-the-jungle Funk, shanty-town Jazz, and skeletal sea-shanty Folk, filtered through the FX boxes and low-end-accentuating EQ's of sound-system-wreaking Dub. More than any Clutchy Hopkins record before ‘Music is My Medicine’ elucidates the kinship between fusion freaks like David Axelrod and Galt MacDermot, fathers of gut-bucket Funk like The Meters, Dub architects like Lee “Scratch” Perry, and the record collectors, DJs and producers of contemporary phonograph culture who still cling to the vintage aesthetic of those artists' seminal recordings. And when it plumbs the depths of Jamaica's well of rocksteady grooves it makes the island sound more the rudeboy-infested tin-roofed slum haunted by the ghosts of high-seas terrorists than the tropical paradise.

Before you ask, no I can't say that this Lord Kenjamin character who supposedly helped Clutchy Hopkins cook up this batch of beats is any more tangible than the hypothetical pirate spirits mentioned in the above paragraph, much less Clutchy himself. As has become the norm with Clutchy Hopkins records ‘Music is My Medicine’ comes complete with a fanciful press-release recounting—in words taken directly from Clutchy's own diary—how the album was recorded during a years-spanning sojourn in Jamaica where he was bitten by a poisonous fish, nearly died, and was healed by the shadowy Lord Kenjamin with whom he proceeded to jam out. Much like the Clutchy Hopkins mythology itself the story is probably a bunch of bunko, but none of that really matters because the music the myths seek to explain is real.

Clutchy Hopkins “Doty's Leslie”


The realest of the real this time out are “Doty's Leslie,” a slow-cruising groove that sounds like Joseph “Zigaboo” Modeliste accompanying Captain Nemo aboard the Nautilus and has a bassline so whale-song-at-the-bottom-of-the-sea deep that it even bangs on my iPod's stock ear-buds, the melancholic ballad “Heavy Hands,” and the crunky synthesizer-laden space-Dub banger “Tune Traveller.” But the dubby lowrider Funk on “Riff Raff Rollin,” the Reggae-Rock fuzz of “Gourds of the Desert,” the Carlos Santana-meets-Bob Marley blend of Latin Rock guitar and Reggae bass on “Turtle Rock,” the combination of propulsive Funk and Rudy Van Gelder-esque Jazz-combo-Dub on “Cold and Wet,” and the SD50‘s-friendly sample-fodder of playful flutes and bass on “The Old Spot” aren’t lacking authenticity either.

Whether Clutchy Hopkins' music is the buried treasure his handlers the Misled Children or his label Ubiquity Records make it out to be is debatable. But even if all the tall-tales about him and his swashbuckling adventures aren't true, the music that comes out of his studio is a cache of “rich-stuff” whose lustre can't be dulled.

Clutchy Hopkins @ MySpace
Clutchy Hopkins @ Ubiquity Records

CHROMEO

'Fancy Footwork'

Vice

Show her that you're not that shy

Listening to Chromeo makes you feel sexy. Real sexy.

Canada's finest Arab & Jewish electrofunk duo has finally followed-up 2004's fabulous 'She's in Control' with their second full-length album, 'Fancy Footwork,' which is a more polished and cultivated affair.

Chromeo was once famously described as what it sounds like when "gay men dance with each other." I have never danced (to my recollection) with any of the other gents here at Imageyenation, but nonetheless, we all love some Chromeo.

"Momma's Boy" is melodic and Cars-esque (especially those guitars [and maybe those handclaps after the first chorus]) with a light piano backdrop and curious lyrics. Girl, you got it so bad when the only boy you know is your Dad, and boy you got it so wrong when you look into her eyes and all you really see is your Mom. You're just a Momma's boy, Momma's boy.

The song "Fancy Footwork" is an undeniable head-bopper. If you let her see that Fancy Footwork, show her that you're not that shy. With near-deafening bass and popping snares and bells the titular track is as sexy as it gets. Let her see that Fancy Footwork, show her you're that type of guy.

Two-step, Two-step, Two-step

This album is versatile, too. You can take it anywhere. Try it out at the gym while you're doing whatever-it-is people do on the Elliptical; or, pop it in your hi-fi stereo while making love to your lady on the Bob-o-Pedic; or, while writing an album review at your computer desk while eating meatless sausage.

Tracks like "Bonafied Lovin' (Tough Guys)" and "My Girl is Calling Me (A Liar)" are synth-fueled tales of sex, love, and one angry lady friend. While, "Call Me Up" is loaded with driving bass and desirous lyrics. "Outta Sight" reminds me of Prince.

I thought I'd be a casanova, ever since me and Needy Girl broke up.

"Fancy Footwork" features a more defined and enhanced sound from the tandem of Pee Thug and Dave 1. The synths and keyboards are stronger and more melodic and fine-tuned, while the lyrics maintain their tongue-in-cheek Herb Tarlek "ladies man" attitude. Chromeo may sometimes sound like they're from the 80's, they may sometimes sound like they're from the future – but they always – always – sound sexy.

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM

'Sound of Silver'

DFA

As the follow-up to LCD Soundsystem's self titled 2005 full-length debut, 'Sound of Silver' inevitably had to live up to some lofty expectations. Realistically, however, there was little doubt James Murphy would once again excel with his disco and "punk" blend. His output so far has been consistently superb with an impeccable level of quality and this new album is far from an exception.

Lead single "North American Scum" is an infectious and catchy guitar-driven romp with a relentless thumping bass groove. "We're from North America. We are North American Scum..." Meanwhile, album closer "New York I Love You" opens as a sleepy piano tune with Murphy crooning "New York I love you but you're bringing me down...New York you're safer and you're wasting my time...' but evolves into a heavy Weezer (but better) type guitar joint. It stands out musically from this album much like "Never As Tired As When I'm Waking Up" from their first release.

Murphy's superior drumming continues to stand-out here. The crisp analog feel of the beats is one of the trademarks of LCD's unique, powerful sound. Combined with the full, round synths and the enhanced and varying vocal styles, LCD Soundsystem manages to create a solid, unique, and endearing sound.

Although each track is stellar, "Someone Great" will likely be one of the more memorable tracks from this effort. The almost-growling yet warm and welcoming synths combine with Murphy's tragic lyrics to form one of LCD's most truly beautiful and remarkable songs yet. "I'm wishing we could talk about it, but then that's the problem. With someone new I couldn't start it, too late for beginnings." I lose myself in this song every time. "...and then it keeps coming and then it keeps coming and then it keeps coming 'til the day it stops...and then it keeps coming..."

An earlier instrumental version of "Someone Great" appears on the excellent "45:53" composition which was commissioned by Nike as an accompanying soundtrack for jogging workouts. FYI, the track works just as well for lovemaking with your old lady as it does for running.

"All My Friends" follows that with a raucous intro piano riff and a noisy, hypnotic culmination of determined pianos, crashing drums, and Murphy's earnest query "Where are your friends tonight? Where are your friends tonight? ...If I could see all my friends tonight..."

"Us vs Them" is a rousing, chant-along number with bonus cowbell percussion and an engaging and booming chorus. "Block out the sun...over me...over me...spoil all the fun...won't you please?"

'Sound of Silver', simply put, is a dance music masterpiece. Murphy combines expert production techniques, spotless song construction, inescapable riffs and grooves, and often ardent lyrics. It is a serious record. Murphy's musical ethic is a treat and it enables him to continue making truly significant songs. He has managed to craft an individual sound (like most great bands) without feelings of redundancy. "Sound of Silver" is easily in the running for album of the year and it shows tremendous upside for the future of James Murphy, LCD Soundsystem, and DFA records in general.

RJD2

'The Third Hand'

XL Recordings

'The Third Hand' is the type of album that usually brings with it a new moniker. An established and well-known artist jumps headfirst into a new genre or style but only with a new name across the front of the CD package. In this case, our man RJD2 has shed ( abandoned ) his celebrated hip-hop production for an ordinary brand of pop rock which features almost exclusively live instrumentation. Surely a man with the talents of RJD2 would excel at every genre he tries his hand at - right? Not quite.

I had to be truly honest with myself for this review. I've been a huge fan of RJD2 since I first received the "Let the Good Times Roll" 12-inch in the mail from sandboxautomatic. His production was roaring, impressive, and nearly epic. 'Deadringer' was loaded with incredible, unforgettable beats, while 'Since We Last Spoke' was a musical drop-off but still included some gems such as "Since '76" and "Clean Living." It was obvious at that point that RJ was moving away from "rap" production, but I was willing to give his new direction a chance.

'The Third Hand' is not a progression from 'Since We Last Spoke,' instead, it is a startling new style. Only fleeting glimpses of his previous work remain, and even those instances seem insipid and anemic.

Here, RJ sings, he plays instruments, he doesn't sample. It's not as good.

Mediocre is the most compelling adjective which comes to mind with 'The Third Hand.' It simply isn't a good pop album.

"You Never Had It" starts out promising enough for the first 10 seconds but it quickly turns sour when the singing starts. Sorry, but I liked it better when RJ was the quiet guy behind two decks. His voice is uninspiring and deflated.

"Have Mercy" doesn't get any better. "Lord have mercy, have mercy, have mercy on these poor fools." Amen. The barreling drums are misplaced behind the plodding pace of the vocals and synths. In fact, the drums on this album are the only remaining relic of RJ's glorious past but they simply don't match up with the tedious vocals and bland music.

The album is a hodgepodge of guitars, keyboards, uninteresting melodies, lousy singing, and latent grooves. Exactly everything RJD2's sound was not.

Instrumental tracks like "Murs Beat" are the only highlights of this album, but even they seem stagnant or incomplete. They lack the heaviness and style of RJ's earlier beatwork. "Get It" sounds almost like a track from 'Deadringer,' only stale and zestless.

The curly synth on "Sweet Piece" sounds great but quickly loses it's intrigue and struggles to make it's way through the song. The vocals are again listless and uninteresting.

He may not like it - but RJ will forever be compared to his early hip-hop work. It was too fresh and lively, and in fact, it is still relevant. 'The Third Hand' is boring, often lifeless and confused.

'Deadringer' may have been, in RJ's words, "moron music" - but it rocked. It had a soul and a deepness about it. Even RJ's production work for rappers such as Aceyalone and Blueprint has maintained a strong level of quality all the way up through 2006's 'Thing's Go Better with RJ and Al.' What happened? What's the infatuation with producing pop music? The hip-hop work was/is classic. It's far more valuable than bland, mediocre pop rock which is done so much better by so many other bands (Peter, Bjorn, and John, The Shins, what-have-you).

'The Third Hand' could never have been released by Def Jux. Not because it's not a rap album, but because it's not edgy or alive. Give us the beats, RJ, it's your true calling.

Ain't shit worse than a waste of talent, life goes on without it. © SA Smash

EL-P

'I'll Sleep When You're Dead'

Definitive Jux

Throughout the last six years the 9/11 disaster has loomed large over pretty much every sector of American life. Whether we lived in New York at the time or not, we've all been affected by the maelstrom of New World political posturing, the paranoia of societal Big Brothering, and the depressive disappointment stemming from the continuing decline in the quality of our lives. El-P's last record, and his first solo album, 'Fantastic Damage,' released mere months after the incident only began to touch on these issues. But even then, they were relevant, and he felt they were important enough to discuss in his art. He's had five years to work on his follow up. Five years of living in post-9/11 New York City. Five years of war and disgrace for our nation. Five years of "enemy combatants." Five years of tapped phones. Five years of torture and interrogation. Five years of personal struggles. And you can hear it all, over his "dusty but digital" new millennium b-boy beats, on his long-awaited sophomore solo LP 'I'll Sleep When You're Dead.'

Futurism; being on "that next shit," or "that outer space shit," has long been a criticism levied against El-P and his Definitive Jux compatriots. And While I personally wouldn't criticize anybody for employing those sorts of forward-thinking styles, I think labeling El-P that way is broadly missing the point of his music, which is in large part a throwback to the sort of cavernously nervous, beat-box-derived Rap that bridged the gap between the stark Electro of the mid-eighties and the early efforts of the pioneers of SP1200 drum programming and cut-n-paste sampling during Hip-Hop's Golden Era. El-P himself said on his blog that he'd describe 'I'll Sleep When You're Dead' as something "like a psychedelic BDP record" or "Scott La Rock and Ced Gee on acid." And it's just that sort of impression I got when listening to the album's first single, and the hands-down best Hip-Hop 12'' of 2006, "Everything Must Go." In my mind it conjured images of Def Jukies in black and white leather jackets like Boogie Down Productions crew-members rushing the doors of the Latin Quarter as El-P rapped all oratorical-like in front of projected photos of Malachi Z. York, Philip K. Dick and Al Gore. Or maybe it's El-P in a black leather fez, black boots and ankhs, with a face full of piercings and a black fist medallion hanging from his neck? Zoom?!?! However you wanna call it, this is undeniably the sort of Rap music I grew up listening to, just all grown up it's damn self.

When "Smithereens (Stop Cryin')" leaked not long after "EMG" dropped the quality of 'I'll Sleep When You're Dead' was virtually guaranteed. The album as a whole more than lives up to those expectations, and "Smithereens" is undoubtedly one of the highlights of the album. From the Will Ferrell intro, through the bitch-slapping of emcees who "went from battle-rap to gun-talk like we ain't notice the change" and the revelation that El-P thinks of himself as "an actual b-boy brainiac who'll smack you out your mittens," all the way to the off-kilter sung chorus/outro "fell asleep late, neon buzz, PTS stress, we do drugs, city air strange, sticky lungs, Mayor Doomburg gives no funds...and I'm cryin'," the song is perfect. It exudes Hip-Hop bravado even as it wallows in vulnerability, a dichotomy reflected in the very title, as well as one you're not likely to hear very often on Rap records in 2007. The track "Drive"—which comes off like a sludgily toxic version of Gary Numan's "Cars"—picks up some of "Smithereens"'s themes of a decaying, poisonous New York, metaphorically attempting to block it out with automobile windows, drug abuse and death. The track immediately following that, titled "Dear Sirs," is the shortest selection on the album, but it just might be its most thematically powerful, ranking amongst El-P's most poignant compositions. Taking the form of a "to whom it may concern" letter it envisions a New York where none of the issues which plague El-P's psyche on "Drive," "Smithereens," "Everything Must Go" or any of the other songs on the record just don't exist. The first time I heard it I literally shed a tear. On the one hand it's an eloquent elucidation of a paradisaical utopia. And on the other it's a fiery ode to the Apocalypse (complete with freaky monster) in the mode of Adrian Veidt's masterstroke in Alan Moore's 'Watchmen.' But what really makes it disturbing (and artistically brilliant) is the final lines, which reveal that the entire song is just a grand allegory designed to illustrate the unlikelihood of El-P's own participation in the current administration's war, further sinking us into the miasma of our prevailing reality and it's decidedly un-paradise-like nature, which El-P goes to great length to document throughout the disc.

Two things El-P has been great at since the days of Company Flow are siphoning the fears and foibles of modern society through a filter of dystopian science-fiction, and putting almost embarrassingly revealing personal and emotional material on unflinching display in song. Long-time fans should remember tracks like "Population Control" and "Stepfather Factory" as examples of the former, and "Last Good Sleep" and "T.O.J." as examples of the latter. On 'I'll Sleep When You're Dead' El doesn't fail to carry on the tradition set by those joints. Coming back to back "Habeas Corpses ( Draconian Love )," which features guest vocals from Cage and former Company Flow DJ Mr. Len, and "The Overly Dramatic Truth," featuring Head Automatica's Daryl Palumbo on keys, cover the bases. While "The Overly Dramatic Truth" may not be as sentimental as "Last Good Sleep," it's just as passionate, and its sexual imagery is just as disturbing as that song's vivid portrayal of domestic violence. But what it lacks in straightforward heart-string tugging it more than makes up for in musicality, as it just may be the prettiest song El-P's ever made, which is saying a lot since its language and content is so potentially offensive. "Habeas Corpses" on the other hand is unquestionably the conceptual equal of El's other visions of futuristic post-apocalypse. Set in a prison/death camp where El and Cage are both executioners they spend the first two verses discussing their job as the sound of gunshots echo in the background. Around the song's mid-way point it becomes apparent that El's character has fallen in love with one of the prisoners, at which point the beat changes up and he day-dreams about taking her and escaping the ghastly Metropolis of death. His fantasy is interrupted by the robotic voice of the prison computer calling the number of his chosen, and then that of his Sergeant ordering him to fire his weapon. But will he? Well, the album ain't called 'I'll Sleep When You're Dead' for nothin'.

Of course, one must wonder how the people pulling the trigger on us every day manage to sleep at night. But that's the whole point of the album, isn't it? And as a meditation on the human misery, squalor, war, oppression, poverty, disease, overcrowding and disenfranchisement which characterizes our society 'I'll Sleep When You're Dead' works in a way only the most groundbreaking monuments of protest music, specifically Hip-Hop, have managed to. Amazingly it's also an incredible musical achievement, on par with the classic example of the synthesis of industrial noise and the human struggle, Public Enemy's 'It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back.' Even when I like an album I don't frequently go so far as to label it a "classic," but that's exactly what 'I'll Sleep When You're Dead' is. It's a flawless LP that functions as a front-to-back listening experience, but the individual tracks are all strong enough to stand on their own without the rest of the disc's brilliance propping them up. And trust me, the tracks I didn't have the space to mention here are just as brain-bustingly dope as the handful of tracks I discussed in this review...I didn't even acknowledge the guests like Trent Reznor, Aesop Rock, the dudes from Mars Volta, or Cat Power.

In closing I just wanna say I think El-P finally deserves to sleep. At least for a little while. Because even though the world is still fucked, all the comp is dead. And he's the one who killed 'em.

AQUEDUCT

'Or Give Me Death'

Barsuk

A couple weeks back I happened to be playing "Keep It Together," a song from David "Aqueduct" Terry's third full-length LP 'Or Give Me Death' on the the Urban Alternatives radio show when sometimes show co-host 12XU interjected that the song sounded "really '80s." I agreed, suggesting that there was a very pronounced Soft Rock/Yacht Rock sort of vibe to Aqueduct's music in addition to a lot of New Wave and Synthpop influences, sly Hip-Hop-isms and homages to the pure Pop of the '60s and '70s.

That conversation eventually evolved into a discussion of Hall & Oates and whether or not Oates' mustache made him appear more ethnic, and therefore more funky. But that's not the important part of the conversation. The important part is the fact that Aqueduct's brand of Indie/Bedroom Pop really is a the modern counterpart to some of the greatest Pop music of all time, from The Beatles, to Blood Sweat and Tears, then to Hall and Oates, and after that on to Tears For Fears, and on, and on, and... well, you get the picture. There's just an undeniably dominant sense of ageless musicality to Aqueduct's songs, even as his lyrical sensibility betrays an intense immersion in the general spirit, style and tone of the times. It is in fact that seeming disparity between form, content and context that lends Aqueduct much of his charm, as he crafts the most acerbic songs he possibly can ( on his hit tune "Hardcore Days and Softcore Nights" he threatened the listener with physical violence, going so far as to warn that he "gets the red out" when he takes his "lead out" ) but somehow manages to turn them into objects of stunning melodic beauty.

The aforementioned "Keep It Together" is as good an example of this dichotomy as any. It's essentially a ballad in the mold of Toto or some other Lite Soul/Soft Rock act of the polyester age, with quivering synths that put me in mind of 'Purple Rain' era Prince and bouncy piano chords ( a dominant element throughout the LP ) that hearken back to both Tears for Fears and Bruce Hornesby and The Range. If it weren't for the more up-tempo passages, which feature a sturdy back-beat and whining synths, it's the sort of soundscape you'd expect to hear on "Lite" radio. But lyrically it's a whole other animal, featuring a delightfully mean-spirited chorus which declares that "people never change, bitch don't even try." "Broken Records" is similarly cranky, with Terry informing a lover that he's "so over it now" and advising them that "like a backwards hat" they better "turn it around." The track itself has a jumpy quality which, along with it's blend of fuzzy guitars and synths, is a little reminiscent of The Cars. But Terry's penchant for ballad-y bridge parts and a wicked awesome vocoded vocal make it uniquely Aqueduct.

With the overarching sense that Aqueduct is largely a student of '80s Pop it's sort of surprising to hear him reaching back to the golden age of '50s and '60s Rock and Pop, which he does on the song "As You Wish," a track featuring catchy vocal harmonies that conjure images of Doo-Wop acts, early Rock innovators like Buddy Holly and Del Shannon, and Phil Spector era girl groups. Slightly more surprising ( though not really if you go back and listen to a lot of those old Rock songs, which were often a lot darker than their upbeat musical exteriors indicated ) is the content of the song's lyrics, which make repeated reference to murder, grotesque violence, physical mutilation and begging for one's life, all in juxtaposition to professions of true love and dreams of hearts, candy, and glitter. It should be disturbing ( though no more than oldies staple "96 Tears" ) and could even be considered repulsive, but it's just so goddamn catchy and irresistibly effervescent that you'd be hard-pressed not to sing along.

Completely flipping the script, "Zero The Controls" is a syrupy but robotic take on the quiet storm/slow jam replete with a sluggishly pimpish 808 beat, electronic blips, swelling synths and jaunty horns that Terry dedicates to "all the lovers, or anyone who's playin' 'Spy Hunter.'" Taking another direction entirely, the ominously loping "Unavailable" couples the lush orchestral piano Pop ( complete with symphonic strings ) of The Beatles with paranoid synths evocative of Corey Hart's '80s chestnut "I Wear My Sunglasses At Night." While tracks like "Split The Difference" and "Living A Lie," on the surface at least, seem more in tune with straightforward Rock and Pop Punk. But closer inspection reveals shades of nuance, so don't be surprised if you start thinking "gee, this would have made a good addition to the 'Stayin' Alive' or 'Rocky IV' soundtrack" when listening to a tune like "Split The Difference."

Despite the sharp, biting, bitterness on display in his lyricism, Aqueduct's music is an unadulterated joy to listen to. It's blissfully melodic, insidiously catchy, not to mention fun, funny, and almost infinitely quotable. There's a reason the Aqueduct URL is "aqueductisgoodmusic," and that's that Aqueduct is good music. And 'Or Give Me Death' makes that fact undeniably apparent. Thoroughly listenable from front to back, there's not a "must-skip" selection to be heard. Aqueduct is music so good that I can only imagine the album's title is supposed to be preceded by the words "Give me Aqueduct..."

DNTEL

'Dumb Luck'

Sub Pop

I can't remember exactly when I've said it, but it's true that I like Dntel more than Postal Service. In my opinion the collaborative approach of producing a song lends itself to create a more dynamic result in the end. Sure, Postal Service songs are amazingly defined pop songs and they've become standards in many music libraries, including my own. But personally I tend to gravitate to songs that posses a richer, slightly orchestral sensibility and ambiance to them. For those of you who haven't heard of Dntel, a.k.a James Scott Tamborello before, a simple assessment of his music would best be described as beautifully abstract and fluid miniature pieces of musical art.

Tamborello first began creating music in 1989, when he was in Junior High School in Santa Barbara, California. His father — a jazz saxophone player and flautist — bought Tamborello a drum machine, a sequencer, a keyboard and an eight track recorder, primarily for the possibility to create music on his own.

-wikipedia.org

Dntel's most recent effort 'Dumb Luck' is a glistening showcase of collaborations with some of today's most noted contemporary avant-garde musicians. From beginning to end, the listener is bombarded with vocals that are both richly poetic and music to which they are deeply complementary. As with other Dntel albums, 'Dumb Luck' continues to elaborate on Tamborello's ability to seamlessly balance progressive drum programming with lush and symphonic melodies. In addition, all of Dntel's tracks exude a custom tailored quality towards the guest vocalist, making each song very unique and supportive of the characteristics of each particular vocal styling. Depending on the vocalist, melodies can range from simple to sophisticated arrangements and drumbeats that either project strong with accented lyrics or dance lightly in the background with softer voices. Some songs on 'Dumb Luck' feature a complete reversal of the vocal and musical pairings mentioned above and in return, form a sort of "musical theory" based clashing of styles so-to-speak. In the end though, both approaches create very original and beautiful results.

It usually takes me a month or two to fully appreciate an album, but right off the bat I heard a couple songs on 'Dumb Luck' that immediately caught my attention. Dntel was featured on last year's Grizzly Bear remix album on the track "Merge." It's an amazing remix that has a steady yet subtle pulse-like rhythm laid over a raspy, droning melody. Perhaps it was the track's success that brought the artists together once again on the song "To A Fault." When compared to "Merge," the tone of "To A Fault" is slightly darker and has an overall morose sentiment. The lyrics are reminiscent of a heartbroken crooner, painfully waning while accompanied by a simple jazz guitar melody. Under the poignant vocals, a beat starts to emerge from the accented notes of the guitar. The song steadily blossoms into a fragile arrangement of muffled synthesizers and drum patterns that fill the track (this is especially noticed while wearing headphones).

Another track that I took a lot of immediate interest in is "Rock My Boat" featuring Mia Doi Todd. Fans of the first Dntel album, 'Life Is Full of Possibilities,' will recognize Mia Doi Todd's voice from the track "Anywhere Anyone." For anyone not familiar with her, "Mia Doi Todd" possesses a very unique and sultry voice that sounds absolutely amazing when paired with Tamborello's sexy down-tempo method of producing. Todd's lyrics are most commonly couplets that describe "head over heels" situations or one pulling them-self up from the troubling end of a relationship. Her lyrical content and voice have a seemingly natural connection with Tamborello's production values and thus the two have been able to create some absolutely amazing tracks. Personally I would love to hear an entire album based on this collaboration.

'Dumb Luck' also features Lali Puna on the track "I'd Like To Know." I've just recently gotten into Lali Puna, mostly because Markus Acher of The Notwist is one of the members and I've been a fan of his for a long time. In my opinion, the collaboration isn't much of a stretch for any of the artists. For me, the interesting aspect to Dntel isn't just the music alone but the unlikely artists involved. Since Acher has spent a majority of his musical career producing in the electronic genre it seems trite for him to collaborate with Tamborello, an electronic musician by default. Although "I'd Like To Know" is a solid song, I personally enjoy listening to the tracks that feature artists who aren’t common to the electronic genre.

I will definitely listen to 'Dumb Luck' many more times and I'm sure I'll continue to find more things I like about it. As of right now, I definitely recommend it for a good listen, with headphones… as always.

OF MONTREAL

‘Hissing Fauna, are You the Destroyer?’

Polyvinyl

I know the year just started, but I'm already pretty sure that come December you‘ll see of Montreal’s eighth full-length album ‘Hissing Fauna, are You the Destroyer?’ at the top of my year-end list in the “album of the year” slot. At risk of succumbing to hyperbole, this album is nothing short of a masterpiece. Fans who‘ve enjoyed the most recent incarnation of of Montreal (that is to say the one that consists mainly of Kevin Barnes, mostly by himself, going buck nutty on his laptop computer) that has revealed itself on their most recent LP’s ‘Satanic Panic in the Attic’ and ‘Sunlandic Twins’ (two albums which I happen to adore) are sure to love ‘Hissing Fauna.’ Thematically it picks up where ‘Sunlandic Twins’ (which was a celebration of Barnes' marriage and the birth of his new daughter) left off, sinking us right into the gooey center of Barnes' now chaotic love-life, which at the time of conception and recording was mired by a divorce from his still new wife and a separation from his young daughter. And though the album deals largely with that chaos, none of the feel-good sonic quality of albums past is missing. So, listeners should expect more of the same sort of lush arrangements, catchy Pop melodies, Proggy electronics and anacondan (read: enormous and serpentine) basslines that have given the band's last few efforts their charming character and muscular funkiness.

These qualities are best illustrated on “Gronlandic Edit” which, with its foot-stomping beat and sinewy bassline, could be seen as something of a redux of the joyously romantic Indie-Disco jem “Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games” from ‘Sunlandic Twins’ re-imagined for hopeful-but-lonely nihilists. It's a song I revisit often, both for its funky groove and it's incredible lyricism, which is both achingly personal, philosophically intellectual and universal (particularly its observations on religion, the divine and how physics make us all its bitches) in an almost unbelievable way. Songs like this (and there are an unusually large number of them in the of Montreal lexicon as a whole and on this album in particular) leave me wondering how anyone can craft tunes so beautiful and catchy, and wishing more songwriters were capable of doing so. While “Gronlandic” might seem familiar, joints like “Fabrege Falls for Shuggie” and “Cato as a Pun” find Barnes stretching out into new artistic territory, offering up soundscapes that flirt with languid Funk grooves and psychedelic Soul overtones. The former first caught my attention, due to its off kilter drum-programming and depressive lyrics about shaving your head and drinking alone (something I contemplated many a time in my own moments of personal crisis) when the band performed it at a live show last Spring. The latter was an ear catcher from the first time I played the album because of its title, which seems to reference psychedelic Soul pioneer Shuggie Otis. This assumption is bolstered by the track itself which, with its drum-machine rhythm, synth-strings, glitchy sounds, heavy bassline and organ riffs could easily pass for one of Shuggie's syrupy ‘70s Psyche/Funk concoctions. Coming off like a mix of ’80s radio Pop (think Madness' “Our House”) and the ‘60s art Pop of The Beatles, “A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger” picks up the nihilist thread of “Gronlandic Edit” and weaves it into Barnes’ personal struggles which are further explored on the next track “The Past is a Grotesque Animal,” which I‘ll discuss briefly later in this review. But one of the most repeat-worthy selections on the album, for me at least, has been “Bunny Ain’t No Kind of Rider,” an up-tempo blend of sunny sixties-era Surf-Pop, Bubblegum and Garage-Rock, doused in a heavy layer of crazy electronics, drum-programming and sampled hand-claps. According to internet lore it's a personal tale of an actual incident involving Barnes and a notorious groupie at an Athens, Georgia hipster bar, and it's stingingly mean spirited. But the vocal melodies are so catchy, the lyricism so witty, and Barnes' entire tone (especially his delivery of the “I need a lover with soul power, and you ain't got no soul power” chorus) so perfect, that it becomes an irresistible sing-a-long, whether you can relate to the story, or its sentiment, or not.

Aside from the aforementioned jams, which are the ones I find myself returning to the most often, there are other highlights, such as the New Wave-y first single “Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse” and the nearly 12-minute long Glam-Rock meets Kraut-Rock epic “The Past is a Grotesque Animal,” both of which are almost painfully personal exposés of Barnes' troubled relationship with his wife and daughter. But aside from even these tracks the record maintains a stunning level of quality, with nary a clunker to be heard throughout it's fifty-one minute playing time. ‘Hissing Fauna, are You the Destroyer?’ is nothing short of stunning, and has already taken it's place next to ‘Satanic Panic in the Attic’ and ‘Sunlandic Twins’ in the annals of my personal favorite albums of all time.