[Photo by Will Bankhead]

As we all know by now, new releases hit record store shelves and digital download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re curious (Burn It) and something you should avoid at all costs (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

BUY IT
Actress, Splazsh (Honest Jon’s)
Darren Cunningham is what we like to call a “weird dude”—the kind of producer who intentionally pushes his mixes well into the red and sees nothing wrong with dropping an extended drone edit during a peak dance party set. He did the latter in the middle of a rare New York appearance last Sunday night and, well, it kinda cleared what was left of the floor. That said, Splaszh—Cunningham’s second Actress LP, and first for Damon Albarn’s label—is not a difficult listen any more than his live sets are. It’s just a profoundly psychedelic one, a murky, mid-fi descent into madness that includes heady bits of distorted house (“Senorita,” “Lost,” “Always Human”), ambient soundscaping (“Futureproofing”), post-punk instrumentals (“Maze,” “Purrple Splazsh”), industrial strength electro (“The Kettle Men”) and full-on sound installations (“Casanova,” “Supreme Cunnilingus”).

Needless to say, it’s nearly impossible to digest in one sitting, but that’s the point—the very reason this is easily one of most engrossing albums of the year.

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BURN IT
Melvins, The Bride Screamed Murder (Ipecac)
If you’re not sure whether you like the Melvins by now, then their twentieth album—at least we think it’s their twentieth; we kinda lost count—isn’t going to make up your mind for you. While Spin claims it’s their “poppiest release yet,” The Bride Screamed Murder is really just a slight refinement of what’s been working in the band’s favor since bassist/vocalist Jared Warren and drummer Coady Willis (the core members of Big Business) joined King Buzzo’s ranks a couple records ago. Meaning: lots of La Brea Tar Pit licks, careening canon ball beats and hydra-headed howls, with enough unexplained phenomena (a twilight zone take on “My Generation”; the marching orders of “The Water Glass”; the church choir leads and utter creepiness of “P.G. x 3″) to remind you that this isn’t just another slab of wanton sludge metal.

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SKIP IT
Born Ruffians, Say It (Warp)
Maybe it’s a British thing—a love of lean indie rock we can’t even begin to understand. Or maybe Born Ruffians really is as irritating as our immediate reaction (“turn that boring, whiny crap off!”) suggests it is. Either way, it’s hard to believe that Say It comes from the same label that released Flying Lotus, Gonjasufi and Autechre—all essential listens—earlier this year. Come to think of it, let’s pretend this never happened. The following video is rad, though…

Dustin Payseur of Beach Fossils

As we all know by now, new releases hit record store shelves and digital download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re the curious type (Burn It) and something you should avoid at all costs (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

BUY IT
Beach Fossils, Beach Fossils (Captured Tracks)
Yep, it’s another ‘beach band’, here to remind us of how summer lovin’ happens so fast with such truth-in-advertising tracks as “Lazy Day,” “Daydream” and “Vacation.” Here’s the thing, though: as familiar as Dustin Payseur’s songs are, Beach Fossils’ first full-length is full of simple pleasures and subtly addictive details like its lean, Peter Hook-like bass lines, skeleton crew beats and pond-skipping chords.

Simply put, if you’re one of those people who think the Drums are too gay (in both senses of the word), these top-down tracks are for you.

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BURN IT
Karen Elson, The Ghost Who Walks (XL)
Damn you, Jack White. Not only are you the new King of Nashville and the most widely-known member of three major rock bands (The Raconteurs, The White Stripes, The Dead Weather); your china doll wife can actually carry a melancholy tune, like she just swept the final round of America’s Next Neko Case or something. Disproving the precedent set by such tone-deaf models as Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell, Elson seizes her alt-country roots by the spurs with a spooky murder ballad (the title track), subtle White Stripes nods (“The Truth Is In the Dirt”), and a saloon tune that’s a couple scratchy effects away from sounding like a century-old 78. While it’s not gonna bring the goose bumps out like the first time you heard “Deep Red Bells,” The Ghost Who Walks easily proves that Elson has a backup plan if she ever gets sick of ad spreads and fashion mag flash bulbs.

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SKIP IT
Marina and the Diamonds, The Family Jewels (Atlantic)
The major label meeting that led to Marina and the Diamonds’ debut must have went something like this…Let’s give her a name that’s a lot like Florence and the Machine so people think she’s ‘edgy’. And the kids sure like electro, so how about a little bit of that here and there? Don’t Pro Tools the life out of her voice, though; let’s make sure it references Regina Spektor, Tori Amos and, well, Florence and the Machine, at different points in every single song. Hell, a song that explicitly states “guess what?/I’m not a robot” wouldn’t hurt, either. After all, this girl isn’t Lady Gaga. If anything, her cockney-addled voice is closer to Lady Sovereign.

Identity crisis aside, The Family Jewels isn’t awful or anything. It’s just missing the innate sense of melodrama that makes Marina’s creepier, kookier contemporaries believable.

LCD Soundsystem @ Music Hall of Williamsburg

Photo by Jen Maler

As we all know by now, new releases hit record store shelves and digital download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re the curious type (Burn It) and something you should avoid at all costs (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

BUY IT
LCD Soundsystem, This Is Happening (DFA/Virgin)
Around these parts, new LCD Soundsystem albums have always been events—the kind of thing we would have snagged at a midnight madness sale in 1992. Oh sure, there’s only been two before this particular LP (not including James Murphy’s sweaty Nike soundtrack, 45:33), but they’re both records we actually go back to on a regular basis. Especially “All My Friends,” “Too Much Love” and “Tribulations”; in our mind, they’re some of the best singles the midstream music scene’s produced in the past 10 years.

So where does that leave This Is Happening in the scheme of things? More of the same in all the right ways, really. If you prefer Murphy’s synth-chased four-on-the-floor side, there’s “One Touch” and “Pow Pow”; if you’re partial to the keg party chords of “North American Scum” and “Daft Punk Is Playing At My House,” there’s “Drunk Girls”; and if you want to ‘feel something’ beyond “Losing My Edge”-like sarcasm and deftly-layered dance beats, the DFA don lets his guard down on “Change” and “What You Need.”

As for the album’s supposed Bowie-in-Berlin bent, it’s clearest in the grind-house guitars of “All I Want” and the blatant “Nightclubbing” nods of “Somebody’s Calling Me.” Overall, though, this is a LCD presentation through and through—full of record shop references, sure, but that’s been the point since the beginning, hasn’t it?

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BURN IT
The Black Keys, Brothers (Nonesuch)
Akron’s fortunate sons are six full-lengths into a career that’s yet to hit its peak commercially (this week might as well be dubbed The Black Keys Take Manhattan, from their late night appearances to the duo’s Madison Square Garden debut before Pearl Jam tomorrow night), and what do you know? They’re still mixing it up in the studio as well; within reason, at least. Like every album before it, Brothers is rooted in the blues and roadhouse rock, but it’s also a glaring reminder of how unnecessary Danger Mouse’s overrated production skills were on the Black Keys’ LP, Attack & Release. Aside from the soul subtleties at the start of “Tighten Up,” the rewarding returns of this record are self-produced. That includes the fuzzbox-smeared symphonies of “Never Gonna Give You Up,” the honeyed harpsichord of “Too Afraid To Love You” and the bleacher-stomping percussion of “Howlin’ For You.” Frontman Dan Auerbach’s lyrics fall a little flat (guess what? he still has girl problems!), but you’ll probably be too busy knocking back beers while soaking up the band’s slightly-tweaked formula to care.

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SKIP IT
Band of Horses, Infinite Arms (Columbia)
Man, this new Fleet Foxes CD sucks. Wait, what’s that? This isn’t Fleet Foxes’ long-awaited major label debut? It’s Band of Horses’? Well that’s a shame.

The only thing that’ll cure how downright cheesy this record sounds is a Neil Young marathon. In fact, we’re gonna get started on that right now…

[Photo by Timothy Saccenti]

As we all know by now, new releases hit record store shelves and digital download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re curious (Burn It) and something you should avoid at all costs (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

BUY IT
Flying Lotus, Cosmogramma (Warp)
When Warp first sent promos of Flying Lotus’ third proper LP, it was presented as one 45-minute track. The idea being that it wouldn’t leak this way, and even if it did, people would be forced to listen to FlyLo’s hi-def opus in full.

To be honest, we prefer it that way, as it isn’t a singles record, or something you’re gonna want to bump in a club. (Overall, at least; some parts would turn a progressive dance floor on its head, like the psychedelic disco loops of “Do the Astral Plane” or the hammerhead breaks of “Nose Art.”) True to Steven Ellison’s film and art background (we’ll get to that in our next cover story), Cosmogramma is an experience, from its abstract sleeve art to its “augmented reality app” to Ellison’s overloaded sample banks—a tapestry you won’t even begin to tap on the first 10, maybe even 20, listens.

So while many people will classify Cosmogramma’s 17 distinct cuts as an ‘instrumental hip-hop record’ that falls in line with L.A.’s rich history of game-changing beat conductors (Stones Throw, Dublab, Plug Research, Ellison’s own Brainfeeder crew), it’s much more than that. It’s quite simply a mind-fuck, a film score without a script or the slightest sense of restraint. Auntie Alice would be proud.

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BURN IT
The New Pornographers, Together (Matador)
At this point, we know what to expect from a new New Pornographers album. We know Neko Case will steal some songs; we know Dan Bejar will waltz into the room to remind us just how great Destroyer’s always been; and we know Carl Newman will lead his own personal campfire in one peppy singalong after another. Analyzing the band past this point (like Rick Moody does here) is rather pointless. Here’s what we suggest instead…

Seek out these songs immediately: “The Moves,” “The Crash Years” and “Your Hands (Together),” the album’s top-heavy trio of opening tracks. Every single one is essential if you’re an old fan of the band or indie pop music in general. Other simple pleasures reveal themselves in due time, including the Bejar-ian melodies of “Silver Jenny Dollar,” the drowsy Dap-King horns of “My Shepherd,” and the persistent, ear-poking chorus of “What Turns Up In the Dark.” A handful of iPod-era indie rockers also appear (St. Vincent and the frontmen of Beirut and Okkervil River) throughout the proceedings, but their contributions are clearly afterthoughts in an album that manages to get the group’s groove back a bit.

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SKIP IT
The Hold Steady, Heaven Is Whenever (Vagrant)
We’re not sure what to say here other than the fact that we’ve never been much of a Hold Steady fan—blasphemous we know—and if you’re in the same boat as us, this hit-or-miss album isn’t going to change your mind. Simply put, if we wanted to hear Craig Finn tear through just-like-us tales of long nights and life-changing LPs, we’d buy the guy a beer, not his band’s Franz Nicolay-free version of classic rock.

Caribou

[Photo by Nitasha Kapoor]

As we all know by now, new releases hit record store shelves and digital download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re curious (Burn It) and something you should avoid at all costs (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

And because we’re not above acting totally juvenile, this week’s column is a special 4/20 one…

BUY IT
Caribou, Swim (Merge)
We’ve had at least two a-ha moments with Dan Snaith’s fifth album, both of which involved its incredible lead-off single, the dancefloor-detonating—in indie rock circles, at least—”Odessa.” It first hit us on the way to Princeton Record Exchange, literally prompting us to Tweet its greatness at the nearest red light. And then there was this past weekend, when a random Brooklyn store was blasting the song across six pairs of pricey desktop speakers. Both experiences had the same basic effect: they forced us to stop and actually listen to Snaith’s hi-fi hooks, his first attempt at a full-blown psychedelic club record. As he proved on the seamless Boards of Canada/Spiritualized transition of 2001’s Start Breaking My Heart and 2003’s Up In Flames, Snaith is a shape-shifting songwriter and producer, not some sort of pop singer. So while his vaporous verses are an acquired taste, it doesn’t really matter. The details do, from the tubular bells and hammerhead beats of “Bowls” to the liquefied synth lines and disembodied drum sets of “Sun.”

Arthur Russell, the godfather of avant garde dance music, would be proud.

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BURN IT
Javelin, No Mas (Luaka Bop)
If only it were summer already. Then Javelin’s first official full-length would probably be a BUY IT selection, as it’s easily one of the year’s greatest feelgood listens—bong-loaded trails of disco, funk, pop, rap, R&B and, err, Ween (“Oh! Centra”) that aren’t lifted from records so much as the live loops of Tom Van Buskirk and George Langford. The multi-instrumentalists/singers/rappers/cousins are basically like the Avalanches without all the turntables or missed deadlines. Which explains why No Mas takes on the same mixtape feel as their string of limited singles and CD-Rs. A lovingly-compiled mixtape, but a mixtape nonetheless. And one that only makes us long for their next release even more…

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SKIP IT
Cypress Hill, Rise Up (Priority)
Instead of wondering why Cypress Hill put Everlast, Tom Morello, Pitbull, Marc Anthony and members of Dilated Peoples, System of a Down and Linkin Park on the same album—guys, rap-metal was never okay, and certainly not in 2010—we’re gonna share some reminders of the good ol’ days. Light ‘em up, friends…

L to R: Sam Amidon and Shahzad Ismaily at the Bedroom Community compound in Reyjkavik

Photo by Andrew Parks

It’s been a while since we last issued a Buy It, Burn It, Skip It column—eight months to be exact, mostly because our associate editor (Aaron Richter) was busy relocating to our art department. Lame excuses aside, we couldn’t remain silent any longer; not with this blatant rip-off happening every week at Vanity Fair.

To be clear, Aaron came up with the Buy/Burn/Skip rating system while he was at Giant magazine, and we started filing our version of it a couple months before Graydon and his gray-haired minions “coincidentally” starting doing the same thing, albeit with one word change. So, yeah: Conde Nast, we’re watching you…

BUY IT
Sam Amidon, I See the Sign (Bedroom Community)
It takes a lot for us to love a simple folk record, especially one that revolves around secular ballads and god-fearing gospel tunes. There’s something profoundly sad, yet thoroughly satisfying about Sam Amidon’s music, however—something that makes us stop whatever we’re doing every time one of his tracks kicks in. Having Shahzad Ismaily (a sideman for Lou Reed, Laurie Anderson and other downtown legends) and Nico Muhly at his disposal certainly doesn’t hurt, although the former’s delicately-plucked guitar and the latter’s sweeping strings never take the focus off Amidon’s voice. Not quite hopeful or hopeless, it’s the sound of an old soul with a deeper understanding of it all than we could ever hope to have. And, yes, that includes Amidon’s infamous R. Kelly cover, “Relief,” a live show staple that almost makes us forget what a crazy motherfucker Kelly really is. Almost.

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BURN IT
Prins Thomas, Prins Thomas (Full Pupp)
This one gets a Burn It simply because of its no budget sleeve. Kidding. The real reason is it—like most “cosmic disco” discs, including Prins Thomas’ last synth-driven duet with Lindstrøm, II—is all about the journey, not the destination. So if you’re expecting to hold a space-age house party with this one, don’t. (The locked groove and starry-eyed Lindstrøm keys of “Wendy Not Walter” come close to landing on a dancefloor, though.) And if the idea of exploring steely Kosmiche chords, bong-scented prog-rock and dimension-hopping disco excites you, then by all means…let one of Norway’s greatest beat conductors be your guide.

Just be careful playing this one in the car, as it might cause you to fall asleep at the wheel with a smile on your face.

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SKIP IT
MGMT, Congratulations (Columbia)
We know what you’re thinking: I bet they didn’t even listen to MGMT’s new LP before declaring it a complete dud. If only we were that lucky. To be honest, the s/t office gave it 10 straight spins the other day. Not because we’re masochists, although we are. No, we were simply trying to wrap our head around this decidedly difficult album, which turns out to be a spectacular failure in every way. The reason isn’t because they can’t write hooks; it’s because they refuse to. Whether you’re trying to keep up with the time and genre changes of “Flash Delirium” (’60s psych! hardcore punk! glam rock! oh my!) or simply passing out by the halfway point of “Siberian Breaks” (there’s no rhyme or reason to any of its 12 disgustingly-indulgent minutes), this record’s a directionless waste of time and major label money. We’re all about the “scratch-off” cover of the limited double LP version, though, and Pitchfork giving the group props simply because they “can write songs.” Brilliant observation, guys; just brilliant.

By Aaron Richter

As we all know by now, new releases hit record-store shelves and digital-download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re the curious type (Burn It) and something you might have heard about but probably should avoid (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

Buy It
Reigning Sound: Love and Curses (In the Red)

Greg Cartwright (ex-Oblivions) sings like he understands a lot—more than you, at least. He sings like a man who’s sinned and fucked up and made enough mistakes that he appreciates his triumphs, however large or small. His voice can teach you quite a bit, just in its tone, its struggle, its rasp. It’s everything you need to know about his Asheville, North Carolina (by way of Memphis) group, Reigning Sound. Just listen. On the group’s latest, Love and Curses, he sings the words to opener “Break It” with a presence that doesn’t announce itself; it lets you discover its charms on your own. Cartwright’s sentiments are heartfelt, genuine rock ‘n’ roll without the contemporary pomp. “It’s true what they say / Love’s a dangerous game / But I love you just the same / As I did when you called me your baby,” Cartwright sings on “Dangerous Game.” He understands: Love is complicated, but it can also be this simple. From rowdy stompers to soulful ballads—all sauced with a wailing organ and punchy riffs—Reigning Sound’s Love and Curses in undeniably romantic. And you can trust Cartwright is telling the truth. He knows. You can hear it in his voice.

Download audio file (01-break-it.mp3)

“Break It”

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Burn It
Box Elders: Alice and Friends (Goner)

Not exactly what you’d expect out of Omaha, Nebraska (maybe Memphis or Atlanta or San Francisco), Box Elders fling ’60s-throwback fuck-fi garage ditties. Sloppy and brimming with sly humor, the trio’s debut, Alice and Friends, keeps its songs basic, charging with literal, straightforward tales of timeless courtship. Brothers Clayton and Jeremiah McIntyre sing in tandem—less harmonizing, more belting and jolting out of sync to gust with loose spontaneity—while drummer Danny Goldberg mashes an organ as he tries his best to keep time (yes, he plays both simultaneously). It’s all much more Flying Nun Kiwi jams than anything from the town that Conor built.

Download audio file (09-hole-in-my-head.mp3)

“Hole in My Head”

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Skip It
Black Mold: Snow Blindness Is Crystal Antz (Flemish Eye)

Chad Vangaalen whips up a grip of free-form, scatterbrained electronic collages that dissolve the potential for wide-eyed bedroom sound-bombing into aimless, uncomfortable blip-farts. Under the instrumental Black Mold alias, Vangaalen struggles to find a palatable medium between the warm acoustic tones he does well and the cold glitchy messiness he’s far from perfected. When it’s not too chaotic and abrasive, it’s too docile and meek. And there’s little in between to enjoy.

By Aaron Richter

As we all know by now, new releases hit record-store shelves and digital-download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re the curious type (Burn It) and something you might have heard about but probably should avoid (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

Buy It
Mos Def: The Ecstatic (Downtown)

Well, it ain’t Black on Both Sides. But at least it’s a giant leap (see cover) past The New Danger and True Magic. Mos Def’s fourth solo disc, The Ecstatic, opens with “Supermagic” and the MC unloading his rap-rock jollies, which has never been a truly fruitful pose for the artist (see Black Jack Johnson). Here, however, Mos harnesses a chaotic, descending guitar riff with bars dripping in punchy gusto, keeping his agenda loose and playful, quoting Mary Poppins and refusing to get lost in the shtick. It’s a fitting jump-start and apt mood for the bonkers production to follow. Chad Hugo breaks out the vibraphone and offers a slinky low-brass blast to “Twilite Speedball.” Madlib reins the twinkly, crinkly groove of “Auditorium,” perfect for Mos’ liquid cadence and even better for a show-’em-how-it’s-done verse by Slick Rick. Mr. Flash helms the lead single “Life in Marvelous Times,” an vigorous tension-builder previously heard with TTC, and Dilla gets some obligatory shine on the untouchable Black Star reunion “History.” Even more impressive is True Magic holdover Preservation, who builds from a simple piano loop with shuttering tambourine and dim horns on “Priority” and pounds a tympani through the skittish hop-step of the record’s second single, “Quiet Dog.” Never the most remarkable lyricist—his talents have always sat in his rubbery flow and smooth-as-I-wanna-be timbre—Mos rhymes on The Ecstatic like he’s got something to prove (he does)—even if he’s still streamlining his subject matter to “rise up” themes. You can hear the bite in his voice as he spits with Talib Kweli on “History.” Yet he rhymes with lightness, as if he’s shocked by his own confidence. Mos is hungry. Time to eat.

Download audio file (15-history.mp3)

“History,” feat. Talib Kweli

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Burn It
Sonic Youth: The Eternal (Matador)

Is The Eternal misunderstood? The album—notable for marking Sonic Youth’s departure from Geffen—is not the sound of liberation, the freedom cry of a band escaping major-machine oppression. Rather, the band’s 16th album maintains the course of consistency. It’s steady, clear-headed songwriting from a group that knows what it needs to deliver. The Eternal feels comfortable and easy, from Kim Gordon spouting endlessly quotable one-liners on “Sacred Trickster” to strains of snarling guitar fury on “Charming the Snake.” But that ease with which the band slides into its usual routine leaves the record far short of how Murray Street made you rethink the group’s DNA. Thankfully, the Sonic Youth we expect is exactly the Sonic Youth we want these days.

Download audio file (sonic-youth-sacred-trickster.mp3)

“Sacred Trickster”

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Skip It
Miike Snow: Miike Snow (Downtown)

Attention all of you patiently waiting for an vanilla indie-pop record by the dudes responsible for Britney Spears’ “Toxic”— Miike Snow is here, what with its unbearable, Peter Bjorn and John preciousness and frustratingly middle-of-the-road ambition. So hop in your minivan, pick up some cargo khakis from Old Navy and pop over to Whole Foods for a troth of salad-bar feastings before you find this disc on everything-must-go clearance at Virgin Megastore. But please leave the rest of us alone. We don’t want to talk to you. You have nothing to add to our lives. And neither does this horrendous music.

By Aaron Richter

As we all know by now, new releases hit record-store shelves and digital-download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re the curious type (Burn It) and something you might have heard about but probably should avoid (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

Buy It
J Dilla: Jay Stay Paid (Nature Sounds)

Oh, how sweet it is! Twenty-five previously unearthed Dilla beats mixed by Pete Rock. Hell yes! Executive-produced by Dilla’s mother, Jay Stay Paid runs against the capitalizing, exhaust-the-vault post-death compilations we’ve come to know. There’s care and attention paid—in the mix, the flow, the pacing, the guest spots, the moods and the spirit it all revives. Dilla’s gift shines, with the subtleties of how he flexed and flourished a simple loop (“King”) and his ability to evoke such rich tenderness from a soulful instrumental (“Coming Back,” “Mythsysizer”). But most impressive is his unwavering skill with an MC, showcased at its finest with The Shining. Here, Dilla’s beats are cradles of flawless pacing and consistent lurching momentum, digging out just enough nooks and crannies to keep MCs on their toes and excel if their skill allows them. Black Thought, name-drop rapping about crappy television, is absolute fire on “Reality TV,” Doom tumbles cerebral rhyme schemes on “Fire Wood Drumstix,” and M.O.P.’s Lil’ Fame spouts aggro spittle-spraying verses on “Blood Sport.” Dilla is a fruitful legacy. Even if the closet’s now been cleaned, his spirit has no quit. 

Download audio file (15-reality-tv-feat-black-thought.mp3)

“Reality TV (feat. Black Thought)”

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Burn It
Patrick Wolf: The Bachelor (Nylon) 

No lie. self-titled Editor-in-Chief Andrew Parks has major wood for Patrick Wolf. Every time a new album comes around from the UK crooner, dude will not shut up about him. Thankfully, though, Wolf’s latest, The Bachelor, is worth all the yammering. The first of a planned two albums—The Conqueror will follow likely in 2010—The Bachelor is Wolf’s first full-length of absolute focus, both in its future-channels-classic chamber-pop moods and its love-worn lyrical fixation. Built thanks to money Wolf raised from fans through Bandstocks, the album carries the artist on a gushing, overdramatic study of his own amorous psyche, though the soaring extravagance, tempered with intimacy, never spins out of control. Swirling with orchestral curly-cues, “Hard Times” is Wolf’s finest pop song yet, echoing the Brit-yelp triumph of Maximo Park’s “Apply Some Pressure.” “Oblivion” borrows it gristly snarl from Isaac Brock, and “Count of Causality” weeps with fiery venom. Academy Award winner Tilda Swinton even pops up a few times as a wisdom-spouting tour guide of sorts. Get your hankies out. This one’s an emotional trip.

Download audio file (02-hard-times.mp3)

“Hard Times”

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Skip It
Franz Ferdinand: Blood (Domino) 

Talk about bad ideas. This shit makes self-titled’s brain hurt. The once-thrilling Franz Ferdinand follows its lazy third full-length, Tonight, with a grip of ear-piercing dub remixes collected as Blood. Produced by Dan Carey (Lee “Scratch” Perry, Mad Professor)—who also helmed the originals on Tonight—Blood makes an wayward, wobbly mess of tracks that were far from stellar to begin with. Come to grips with the concept at hand, and the record is entirely without surprises. Songs slow to a lumpy waddle. Bass lines and vocal hooks are isolated, ripped and stretched while scattered sound effects float past and echo away. Even taken lightly as a fun experiment, Blood is so maddening and anxious that you’ll beg for the source material. Or write off Franz until album number four.

By Aaron Richter

As we all know by now, new releases hit record-store shelves and digital-download services each Tuesday. That’s why self-titled presents the following every week: a new release you’d be stupid not to own (Buy It), one worth checking out if you’re the curious type (Burn It) and something you might have heard about but probably should avoid (Skip It). Simple, ain’t it?

Buy It
Blank Dogs: Under and Under (In the Red)

For a while there, Blank Dogs was a ghost, existing only as recorded music and identity-shrouding press photos. The act was intriguing enough to gain attention (or evasive enough to avoid it). And as his vinyl (and cassette) releases started dropping OOP, the guy was revving up to become some sort of post-punk eBay-’em-if-you-got-’em version of Jandek. But then he started playing live. And giving interviews. And the mystery began to evaporate just a bit. Not that we cared. So long as he continued to churn out music as thrilling as Under and Under. Rich and durable songwriting nonchalantly disguised as thrown-together, lo-fi bedroom noodling, the full-length stabs with scorching Bernard Sumner riffs and brooding tape-deck vocals, letting the art of effortlessness spring vibrancy into basic, unfussy song structures. Emotionally, the album sounds purposefully vacant and cold, its soul shelved or wounded, which is even more powerful when its heart does peep through, however briefly. Blank Dogs has numbed his mythology and begun to excise the bullshit. No doubt his art will benefit.

Download audio file (10-tin-birds.mp3)

“Tin Birds”

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Burn It
White Rabbits: It’s Frightening (TBD)

White Rabbits take on Britt Daniel. Or Britt Daniel takes on White Rabbits. Whatever the case, the Spoon frontman’s got his producer mitts all over this second record by the Brooklyn transplants. It’s Frightening takes its cues from Gimme Fiction—crisp and ultra-precise in its instrumentation yet kinetic and lively enough to hold our attention (plus studio chatter ’cause Britt loves his precious moments!) The similarities are eerie, though not unexpected. (Truth be told, self-titled put on Gimme Fiction to compare the two, zoned out, wrote a few sentences and had to delete them after realizing we’d honestly mistaken which album we were listening to… Professional, right?) White Rabbits have always seemed a product of their proximity to other bands—tour buddies the Walkmen most prominently in the past. But note the plucky guitar tones and chilly smooth vocals lifted from labelmates Radiohead’s In Rainbows. Give the guys credit, though, for being big enough fans not to let emulation cloud quality. It’s Frightening, however heard-it-before, is as competent an indie-rock record as you’ll hear so far this year. The band’s debut, Fort Nightly, might have been more fun, but this gives the lads permanence.

Download audio file (01-percussion-gun.mp3)

“Percussion Gun”

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Skip It
The Field: Yesterday and Today (Anti-)

Remember way back in 2007 when we all pretended that trance wasn’t totally obnoxious for a brief moment? We danced by thrusting ourselves into the air, twisting our torsos so we landed off balance, drank a ton of free Sparks, yelled things like “I can feel it!” and “Yeeeah!” and acted, in general, like royal E-tards. Wasn’t that fun?!?! A blast! Axel Willner led the charge as The Field, a Swedish techno act releasing from-time-to-time-thrilling music on Germany’s Kompakt label. The Yankees at Anti- (home to Tom Waits, Neko Case, Man Man and Michael Franti) scooped up the immigration papers for Willner’s patience-elongating deuce act, Yesterday and Today, which plops vibraphones into the mix and, on one track, a live drummer (Battles John Stanier). Aside from a gorgeous, desolate cover of the Korgis’ “Everybody’s Got To Learn Some Time” (hello, Beck)—which plays as if it’s slowly transforming into Radiohead’s “Nude”—Yesterday and Today plods through much of what you’d have mistakenly expected its impressive predecessor, Here We Go Sublime, to deliver: directionless hypnotism, derailing monotony, UFO-swishing grooves and far too many valleys (not nearly enough peaks). Ignore.