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It always perplexed me as to how bands decide when their albums are released.  Do they wait until they think their record will be the best thing on the market?  Do they try to hit the shelves in the busy shopping months?  Do they get them out as fast as humanly possible (or, in the case of Trent Reznor, faster)?  I also find that albums from certain bands work best in certain seasons.  For example, despite its January release, Vampire Weekend’s debut is a very summer-ready album.  This atmospheric anachronism occurs yet again in the case of Velocifero, the new album from icy electropoppers Ladytron.  Where bands like CSS and New Young Pony Club make more bouncy electronic tunes, Ladytron opt for the route traveled by classic darker synth acts like Pet Shop Boys and New Order.  From the songs sung in Bulgarian (“Kletva” and opener “Black Cat”) to the dense vocal layering on standouts “Runaway” and “They Gave You A Heart, They Gave You A Name”, Ladytron deliver one eerie and compelling piece after another.  Velocifero might not exactly live up to its literal translation as “bringer of speed”, but this is likely another twist in the Ladytron chain.  If you got this record expecting the feel-good hit of the summer, you’re out of luck - for now.  Hold onto Velocifero until the long chilly nights of October; only then will the album, “Ghosts” and all, come out of its glacial cocoon.

Review by Eric Schuman

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Here at Y-Rock, we've tried to stay ahead of the curve when it comes to Brit-Pop imports. Exhibit A: The Fratellis, who you heard on our airwaves long before they got the iPod deal and ended up in every 'wacky' movie trailer. And now we have The Wombats, whose hit "Let's Dance To Joy Division" first received airplay from us at the beginning of 2008. Their album A Guide To Love, Loss & Desperation is finally available this week Stateside after coming out in the U.K. last year. The youthful Liverpool trio met at Sir Paul McCartney's Liverpool Institute Of Performing Arts in 2003 and oddly enough, released their first album in Japan only a few years later. A Guide To Love, Loss & Desperation featured the hit U.K. singles "Kill The Director," "Moving To New York," the brilliantly catchy, "Let's Dance To Joy Division," and of course, "Backfire At The Disco," the current single we're spinning on Y-Rock. Much like Art Brut's "Direct Hit," it's a tale of awkwardness at a dance club. The Wombats certainly don't reinvent the post-Arctic Monkeys-wheel on A Guide To Love, Loss & Desperation but hit the sweet spot on the aforementioned tracks: perfect 3 minute, Brit-Pop, full of cheeky humor and great hooks and set to a beat you can dance to.

Review by Joey O.

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Coldplay's 2005 album X&Y helped push the Brit band into the stratosphere as one of the Biggest Bands In The World, able to fill the largest venues around the globe. However, the album received mixed reviews and too many synthesized keyboards bogged down much of the second half of the record. So for the extra-wordy Viva La Vida or Death And All His Friends¸ Coldplay stripped back the layers and pushed for more wide open spaces in their new material.

Coldplay certainly do try a number of new tricks on Viva La Vida, perhaps their most ambitious record yet, but again find some mixed results. Some of the songs, co-produced by the legendary Brian Eno and Markus Dravs (Arcade Fire), were partly recorded live in Spain to shake things up a bit. After an instrumental opener (that is reprised with lyrics as the hidden closer), "Cemeteries Of London" kicks in, with Chris Martin evoking olde timey 19th century Gothic England and Johnny Buckland's excellent guitar work paying tribute to The Edge's early work with U2.

The guys really stretch out in the middle of the record. "42" is a multi-part epic, moving from a sparse keyboard song to piling on strings and a funky rhythm, then making a turn into classic, wide-open anthemic Coldplay. They also decided to give fans 'more bang for their buck' by fitting two songs onto the same track twice on the record. "Lovers In Japan"/"Reign of Love" & "Yes!"/"Chinese Sleep Chant." In both instances, the first song on the track is the superior tune, with the second a pleasant little bonus.

By stripping back the epic keyboards, bringing in strings on "Yes!" and the hit "Viva La Vida," and adding other cool little sonic touches, Coldplay certainly do their best to shake things up musically. However, by trying to be more 'progressive,' they occasionally lose sight of the big catchy hooks that have been their bread and butter in the past. And this record might bring even more U2 comparisons than X&Y, partly because of Buckland's guitar atmospherics and Eno's production. The singles "Viva La Vida" (for my money, the best song on the album and best example of the band's experimentation paying off) and "Violet Hill" also show some of Martin's strongest lyrics on the record, with references to war and revolution, also echoed in the cover art. Thematically, the album deals with the Big Concepts of Life and Death (well it is right there in the title). Viva La Vida… will certainly be one of the biggest albums of the year and an important step in the continued growth of one of the few superstar Rock bands under the age of 40 that we have today.

Review by Joey O.

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The first couple of things you notice when you put on My Morning Jacket's 5th album, Evil Urges:  how clear the vocals are compared to everything they've done up to now, how you've never really noticed Jim James' lyrics before, and how many Prince CDs these white boys from Kentucky must listen to in the van.  For years they've been lauded as one of the most dynamic, soulful, and captivating live bands making music today - an evolution that's been documented locally across many Philadelphia stages, from the Khyber to the Troc to the TLA to the Factory to the Tower Theatre, and soon to headlining Festival Pier (September 5). Few bands in rock's history have shown the so much skill at driving a song over the top with subtle dynamic changes and perfectly constructed musical arrangements. While all of their studio records have contained a clutch of great riffs and ensemble playing, each tended to ultimately wash over the listener like a cool mountain stream, leaving smooth gems of the rocks below, but little to grab hold of. You found yourself able to hum with but never really sing along with the band.

For all the gorgeous grooves and the amalgam of aesthetics cobbled together from the raw elements of the best Classic, Indie, Southern, Blues, Punk, Prog, and Folk Rock, there was always something indirect about the Jacket's records. Awash in swaths of reverb, Jim James' vocals have been comparable to Michael Stipe's in early R.E.M.; cool, mysterious, fleeting. Not anymore. Like the hair that covered most of his face at live shows until a couple years ago, with less reverb we're able to see more of Jim James on this album, and the confidence in his writing and singing enables us to look at My Morning Jacket in a new light. On first listen it almost feels like a different band - the reverb was that prevalent in the past. By pushing his vocals and the band's playing in new stylistic directions as well, from Curtis Mayfield/Prince falsettos to guttural yelps, from faux industrial/hiphop ("Highly Suspicious") to blue eyed soul ("Thank You Too," "Touch Me I'm Going to Scream") this could be the record that helps My Morning Jacket reach a new, wider audience - the album where the words, music, vocals, and playing all connect at a higher level. One place it all comes together is "I'm Amazed," where James runs through a list of things captivating him - from sublime beauty to our political/ cultural cul-de-sac ("I'm amazed in the quiet ocean / I'm amazed at your wrong devotion / I'm amazed at what the people saying / I'm amazed by a divided nation"), and the band delivers a performance worthy of The Who, U2, or Radiohead. Like those bands, My Morning Jacket has built a following based on their live prowess, and as each band did on their breakthrough records Tommy, War, and OK Computer, several albums into their career My Morning Jacket has delivered an album with Evil Urges that puts them on a similar position to be one of the best bands - live and now on record - of their time and all-time.

Review by Jim McGuinn

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There’s no shame in only having one album to your credit.  Plenty of respectable bands throughout history, for one reason or another, released a lone studio recording in their entire careers.  Jeff Buckley, The La's, even the Sex Pistols fall into the “One-Album Wonder” category, and their music is very much beloved.  If you would have asked me last year, following the U.S. release of their debut, Costello Music, I would have been quick to say that The Fratellis would likely join those ranks.  To my pleasant surprise, though, the Glaswegian trio is back with a new record, Here We Stand, which might just be better than their impeccably strong debut.  The most obvious change to the Fratellis' sound is the addition of keyboards on just about every track.  This gives the more adventurous tunes a very solid base for Jon Fratelli's brogue to spout out the (real) lyrics (Costello Music's gibberish sing-alongs are few and far between here).  While none of the tracks are quite “Flathead” or “Chelsea Dagger”, there is a much wider spectrum of styles covered, from riffy psychobilly on “Tell Me A Lie” to tears-in-my-beer country with “Babydoll”.  Though “Acid Jazz Singer” isn't really acid jazz, the long instrumental passages (closer “Milk And Money”) and storytelling songs (“A Heady Tale”) make Here We Stand an impressive sophomore release from a band who probably didn't ever have to record again.  Now that they've proved to be more than just a goofy Brit-Pop band, maybe album three will feature some real acid jazz.

Review by Eric Schuman

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No band has cultivated a more rabid and opinionated fan base over the past decade than Weezer. We last heard from the Weez on the uneven, Rick Rubin-assisted Make Believe. While it featured perhaps their biggest crossover hit in "Beverly Hills," there were also some of Rivers' dodgiest lyrics and a reliance on too many soggy ballads. After a few years away, the band has slightly reinvented themselves on their third self-titled record (aka "The Red Album") as more of a democracy. For better or worse, Rivers has been labeled a bit of a dictator, and on the Red Album, the other three members get to step up to the plate for their turn in the spotlight.

The first half is Cuomo-centric, and while some of his lyrics have taken a turn for the goofy, the songs are musically as catchy as ever. The most obvious examples are opener "Troublemaker" and the hit single "Pork And Beans" (which is about...writing a hit single). "The Greatest Man That Ever Lived" might be the most insane thing the band has ever attempted. It's a multi-part "Bohemian Rhapsody"-style six minute epic, jumping from rapping to a choir to a spoken word breakdown, all with Weezer's trademark hooky guitar riffs throughout. "Heartsongs" finds Rivers sweetly reminiscing about Pop songs he grew up on; from Eddie Rabbit to the Boss to Jacko…up to Nirvana's Nevermind changing his life and the formation of Weezer. For much of the first half of the Red Album, Rivers is being autobiographical, but instead of his usual topic of girls, he's writing about his childhood and music.

The second half of the Red Album is where the rest of the band takes turns on the mic. Guitarist Brian Bell wrote and sings "Thought I Knew," a nice little strummy power-pop song. Bassist Scott Shriner sings/raps the verses on the menacing "Cold Dark World," with drummer Pat Wilson (who has frontman experience with his excellent side project The Special Goodness a few years back) sings the midtempo "Automatic." However, with all the different singers, the second half of the record feels maddeningly inconsistent. While it may be good for inter-band harmony, it doesn't really lend to a cohesive feel on the album. Overall, Weezer's Red Album is an interesting, if flawed, experiment in stretching a veteran band's creative boundaries.

Review by Joey O.

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For a while, I felt like I was the only person in the world who did not attend the South By Southwest festival earlier this year.  Almost every music blog, media outlet and even many of my coworkers professed their love for the bands they discovered over the course of the event.  Since then, many of those groups, like Black Kids, Los Campesinos! and The Ting Tings have gone on to sign with various labels based on the strong reception of their live performances.  The Ting Tings' debut, We Started Nothing, is a quirky mix of dance-pop, girl group harmonies and electronica which are sure to further their newfound popularity.  The album kicks off with what might become their signature song, “Great DJ”.  The tune (which was a double-A side single with the stomp-clap “That's Not My Name”) is pure, bright pop with just as much fizz as the aforementioned groups whom the duo played alongside in March.  A number of the other songs on the record have been making waves, such as the jittery “Fruit Machine” and “Shut Up And Let Me Go”, the latest song to grace an iPod commercial.  There are times towards the end of the album where the pace is slowed down a bit, showing that the duo is more than just a dance band.  Songs like “Be The One” (a near dead ringer for The Clash's “Lost In The Supermarket”) and “Impacilla Carpisung”, where singer Katie White does her best M.I.A. impression.  We Started Nothing might not completely do The Ting Tings' live show justice, but it is nonetheless a fun listen that offers a taste of what to expect from them in a concert setting.  Speaking of which, you can catch The Ting Tings as part of the Popped! Festival on June 21st at Drexel University.

Review by Eric Schuman

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Back during our days as Y100Rocks.com at good ole Bunker 3.0, We Are Scientists appeared on the scene with their debut album, With Love & Squalor. The New York band quickly became a favorite among our staff thanks to hooky, spiky tracks like "Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt" and "The Great Escape." They also recorded a memorable "Bunker Sessions" appearance that included the Great Calculator Watch Race of 2006 (trust me). Last fall, drummer Michael Tapper left the band a duo, but founding members Keith Murray (guitar/lead vocals) and bassist Chris Cain carried on and crafted Brain Thrust Mastery. Perhaps the most shocking change in the band? That Cain shaved off his awesome mustache! The new album is less hyper-active and danceable, perhaps because the band no longer has a full-time drummer. But it's sonically richer, with more New Wave-sounding production and echoed or double-tracked vocals from Murray, whose recognizable voice reminds you at times that this is still We Are Scientists. It feels a little like the band was taking sonic pointers from The Killers' evolution to Sam's Town. The excellent lead single is "After Hours," which appears in a new Sony video camera ad currently airing all over television. "Let's See It" and "Chick Lit" are among the other highlights. While the band has certainly matured musically, their great sense of humor is still intact. (Exhibit A: the video for "After Hours," which co-stars Katrina Bowden aka Cerie from 30 Rock) And their Web site, wearescientists.com, is still incredibly absurd. You can enjoy their antics in person when W.A.S. visit Johnny Brenda's in Philadelphia on July 29.

Review by Joey O.

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O, to be one of the more successful young British bands in recent years.  Sheffield's Arctic Monkeys made the music industry's collective head explode with their debut release in 2006.  While last year's follow-up might not have been as wildly popular, it was still an incredible success compared to sales of many other artists' records.  It would seem impossible, between touring and recording with the Arctic Monkeys, that leader Alex Turner would have time to tie his shoes, let alone record a side project that rivals the proper band at its best.  Under the name The Last Shadow Puppets, Turner and fellow nu-Brit-Popper Miles Kane (of The Rascals, who helped out on a few tracks on Favorite Worst Nightmare) have created a scratchy string-filled opus that pays homage to the epic pop records of 60's AM radio.  The musical voice of The Age Of The Understatement is quite recognizable as belonging to Turner, but the songs aren't just "Brianstorm" with violins.  The songs range from fuzzy rave-ups ("Black Plant") to spooky reverb-drenched ballads ("The Chamber", "I Don't Like You Anymore") and the driving, frenetic songs that Turner is known for ("Only The Truth" and the title track).  The album might have one trick (specifically called "col legno" or "with the wood", when a stringed instrument is played with the backside of a bow), but what a trick it is.  My only request would have been to release this album under the Arctic Monkeys' name, if only to freak out their fans.  Turner is clearly not afraid to let out a few musical oddities, so why not increase the music's impact by more closely associating this wonderfully bizarre album with such a popular band?  From what I've heard, that's worked quite well for very popular British groups in the past. 

Review by Eric Schuman

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Death Cab For Cutie really want to be experimental. If it really was the thought and effort that counted, Narrow Stairs would get a perfect score and this review would be over. However, their success, the expectations from their fanbase and their reputation all have held the quartet back. Death Cab want to be experimental, but they can’t. Similarly, I really want to dislike them and their new album, but I can’t. With all of the lyrical and musical whiny melodrama that made Death Cab so popular, there are many things on Narrow Stairs that I can’t help but like. The album starts off with “Bixby Canyon Bridge”, which begins as a spacey, minimalist ballad before heavy fuzz-guitars bang out a riff that makes me think this record is going to be Death Cab’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Unfortunately, Ben Gibbard’s calm and mellow voice gives the music a far different tone than anything Jeff Tweedy’s tortured howl ever sang.

Take, for example, lead single “I Will Possess Your Heart”. After a four-and-a-half minute meandering instrumental introduction (which doesn’t even have the courtesy to repeat “Fujiya, Miyagi” over and over), the longingly morose lyrics kick in. If the lines, “You reject my advances and desperate pleas/I won't let you let me down so easily” were sung by Tweedy, they would come off as the words of a broken-hearted romantic who just can’t get a date (I mean, this is the man who can get away with “I dreamed about killing you again last night/And it felt alright to me”); but coming from Gibbard, “I Will Possess Your Heart” sounds more like this generation’s “Every Breath You Take”. Not every song is so creepy, though; the mildly-rocking “Cath…” and “Long Division”, as well as the jingle bell-laden “You Can Do Better Than Me” do a fine job of masquerading the stalker sentiments under playful melodies. They might not be able to fully evolve past the emotional-pop style of their previous albums, but Narrow Stairs is an expansion in the right direction for Death Cab. Not that they really need to, given their popularity, but it’s good to see a band stepping outside its comfort zone every once in a while, even if they are baby steps.

Review by Eric Schuman

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It has been a long time since musicians of cultural significance spent a short time releasing impactful works. It's been mentioned before here, and is repeated now with no less amazement, that The Beatles somehow brought to market Rubber Soul, Revolver, and Sgt. Pepper in a little over 18 months, a production cycle pretty much lost on today's music industry. We'd never suggest that Trent Reznor travels in the same mythical circles as John, Paul, George or even Ringo, but Nine Inch Nails are taking on long-forgotten risk and providing substantial sonic reward. Enabled by technology, enthralled by new business models, and encouraged by fans, on May 5, 2008 Reznor announced the immediate release of The Slip, the third NIN LP in the last year, an unheard-of pace from an artist once content with seven-year cushions between studio albums. The Slip sees Reznor stepping back from the first two albums in this triad yet embracing elements of both: The enveloping anger of the epic "Corona Radiata" recalls the soundscapes collected on Ghosts I-IV, while particular graphics (the Art is Resistance logo, a photo of Trent being grabbed from behind) and song titles like "Lights in the Sky" reference the politicized sci-fi of Year Zero, although it's unclear if The Slip is the sequel to that story.

What is very clear is that this album is meant to be accessible, and not just as an MP3 download or remixable data. "999,999" opens the album soft and foreboding like Broken, "Demon Seed" closes it fast and danceable like Pretty Hate Machine, and the 37 minutes in between deliver confident rock and aggro electroclash like With Teeth, the 2005 album that started this Reznor renaissance. That last quality sometimes results in tracks like "Discipline" coming off as "Survivalism II," but we also hear Reznor's voice pop up and returning guitarist Robin Finck's crunchy goodness drop out at opportune moments, and the detuned tracks in "Echoplex" somehow fit together like Sonic Youth. Year Zero saw Nine Inch Nails committed to art as rebel yell, a meaningful bit of magical realism that addressed issues as Pink Floyd's The Wall once did. Ghosts I-IV was the outfit's grand musical departure-cum-experiment. The Slip, however, is a halo of a different color: Trent Reznor making music for himself and for the curious, and sounding like he's not just happy to be doing it but actually having fun as well.

Review by Adam Blyweiss

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In the past year, I’ve seen Elvis Costello twice; once with a full orchestra, and once with his latest backing band, The Imposters (which features two thirds of his original group, The Attractions).  Needless to say, the show with The Imposters was much better.  As big a fan of his immense catalogue as I am, I must concede that Costello’s career is notoriously inconsistent.  From classic new wave and pop records to questionable forays into classical music and blue-eyed soul, few genres have yet to undergo Costello’s touch.  With his latest album, Momofuku (ostensibly named for Momofuku Ando, creator of instant ramen noodles), Costello continues his recent garage-roots rock phase.  His last album with The Imposters, 2004’s The Delivery Man, was an uneven mishmash of blues, folk and shouting.  For those who, like me, didn’t think that The Delivery Man, well, delivered, Momofuku combines all that is good about Costello’s scatterbrained musical direction.  With some songs that sound like outtakes from early albums like Armed Forces (“American Gangster Time”) to the more brash songs that echo 1986’s Blood & Chocolate (“Turpentine” and “Stella Hurt”), Momofuku, like Costello himself, is all over the place.  Joining the King on many songs is Jenny Lewis, who “oohs” and “ahhs” her way through the jazzy “Harry Worth” and “Drum And Bone”.  I’m still undecided if Momofuku ranks up with Imperial Bedroom or This Year’s Model, but it’s without a doubt the album that many of Elvis’ fans have been waiting for.

Review by Eric Schuman

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With their absence from music dragging past the decade mark, the concept of a new album from Portishead -- they of the "Nobody loves me" electronic-noir anthem "Sour Times" -- seemed increasingly remote. Then... Look, a Beth Gibbons side project! Hey, a Geoff Barrow DJ set! Wow, they played acoustic in England! Yikes, a song on a tribute album! And now, the trio feel comfortable enough in their collective skin to make you squirm in yours on Third, their first studio LP since 1997. The most notable change longtime listeners will hear is the band foregoing hip-hop cratedigging in favor of channeling other styles, new paths to the same destination: the spy-movie atmosphere championed on Dummy, Portishead, and 1998's live orchestral maneuver PNYC. If the industrial drum pads of first single "Machine Gun" represent a successful break with tradition, the rest of the album is downright magical -- driving Krautrock in "Silence," "The Rip" and "We Carry On," psych-folk in "Deep Water" and "Small," funk and free jazz in "Magic Doors." With Gibbons' voice more tortured and desperate than ever, and Adrian Utley's guitar often sounding angry, this is as much an experimental album as it is a grand electronic one. Portishead's entry into the music industry alongside Tricky and Massive Attack helped establish the trip-hop genre, yet their gradual disappearance pretty much undermined it. Third, by default and in sum, transcends it. 

Review by Adam Blyweiss

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It would be easy to peg Santogold as America's answer to M.I.A. based solely on a shared tour itinerary, similar fashionista leanings, and the skittering dancehall electronics of the first single from the Santogold debut, "Creator." Easy, and not entirely correct. Rather, songwriter/producer Johnny Romeo and Philly native Santi White (former lead singer of the band Stiffed) end up doing for ska-revival rock what Gnarls Barkley do for soul. Santogold manage to playfully twist a variety of pop formulae to their own entertaining ends, as on "I'm a Lady" where White imagines what it might be like to have Gwen Stefani fronting Rilo Kiley. "L.E.S. Artistes" seems lifted straight from the Tegan and Sara catalog, while elsewhere White manages to use feel-good reggae to thinly veil aggression in a 311 stylee ("We think you're a joke/Shove your hope where it don't shine"). Maybe that last influence is what keeps the M.I.A. comparisons coming, but other songs like "You'll Find a Way" and "Say Aha" clearly indicate Santogold can embrace the structures of rock beyond a Clash sample or Pixies lyric.

Review by Adam Blyweiss

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Back in 2006, America was introduced to U.K. sensations The Kooks with their debut album, Inside In/Inside Out. The Brit band had already become stars back home, with catchy, likable tracks such as "She Moves In Her Own Way," "Naïve" and "Eddie's Gun." The youthful band is back with Konk, their sophomore effort, filled with even more sturdy, enjoyable Brit-Pop and plenty of strummy love songs. For starters, there's the undeniable lead single "Always Where I Need To Be." The jangly "Mr. Maker" is one of the best songs on the record. Konk never really rocks out too much, outside of "Do You Wanna," perhaps the "heaviest" song here and perhaps not a nod to Franz Ferdinand. "Sway" and "Shine On" are also among the other highlights here. The band's classic Brit Pop songwriting draws comparisons to the legendary Kinks and that isn't a coincidence (or even a koincidence?). The majority of Konk was recorded in Ray Davies' studio in north London, which is called Konk Studios. "I just started thinking how cool the studio is," says guitarist Hugh Harris. "And how much of a part of our sound it is." The Kooks will be heading to North America for about a month's worth of dates, including their first ever Philadelphia appearance (which is already sold out) at the Fillmore at the TLA on June 5.

Review by Joey O.

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Many things can happen when a band signs to a label.  While most choose to remember instances where a label has manipulated a band’s distinctive sound into something more mainstream (see The Decemberists’ The Crane Wife on Capitol), many couplings of band and label have yielded phenomenal results (like The Replacements’ four albums with Sire).  Philadelphia’s Man Man, who previously recorded for Brooklyn’s Ace Fu Records, recently signed to Anti-, home to Bob Mould, NickCave and Tom Waits.  Yes, the group’s latest, Rabbit Habits, is definitely their most accessible to date.  But by no means is a tamer Man Man a tame Man Man.  Unlike their previous two albums, which featured circus-esque lyrics over Eastern European-influenced musical stomping, Rabbit Habits is driven by a buzzy electric piano and playful marimba (or both on “Top Drawer” and the Oingo Boingo-inflected “The Ballad Of Butter Beans”).  Of course, leader Honus Honus’ trademark gruff yowl is the focal point of most of the tunes, but the impressively high level of musicianship really steals the show.  Songs like the folksy “Whalebones” and the title trackmight not be quite freakout-y enough for hardcore “Fan Fans”, but there are certainly enough moments that cater to both longtime and new listeners.  Man Man may have toned their act down a bit, but I’m not worried that they’re going to be normal anytime soon.

Review by Eric Schuman

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Phantom Planet have been many things to many people over the years: "That band that Jason Schwartzman was in" (he was their drummer until leaving almost five years ago to concentrate on acting); "the band that did The OC theme song;" or to us here at Y-Rock, "a great band who were good friends of Y100." They have evolved from the sunny Power-Pop of 2002's The Guest to the angular, Strokes-meets-Radiohead vibe of their self-titled 2004 album. But where has the band been for the past four years? Touring and recording new material, with a label switch over to Fueled By Ramen. At long last, their fourth album Raise The Dead is here. During their extensive studio time, frontman Alex Greenwald decided to focus in on a theme of cults for Raise The Dead. Which is why the opening title track is an anthemic call to arms…except the band is calling you to join a mysterious, ominous cult. The catchy "Leader" invites you to "put you in our uniform/everyone will be reborn," and they've actually created a uniform and logo to go with the fictional cult.

Review by Joey O.

Lead single "Do The Panic" is familiar to longtime fans, as the song has been kicking around the Phantom Planet catalog for a while, with a live version on the bonus disc from The Guest. Another highlight is "Dropped," which combines a sunnier guitar riff and beat straight out of The Guest with Greenwald's distorted, Julian Casablancas-style vocals. Actually, Greenwald could pull back on his slurred and distorted vocals a bit and sing with some more clarity again. But with Raise The Dead, Phantom Planet have continued to evolve and grow from album to album and have shown they are definitely far more than some band who did the theme to a cancelled Fox teen drama.

Review by Joey O.

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If all you remember of The Breeders is Kim Deal's slinky bassline in "Cannonball" and the bubbly harmonies in "Divine Hammer"…well, you're missing some kinda vital stuff. Vital, noisy and weird. Sure, those songs are two of the best in the 90s rock canon, and Last Splash from whence they came is equally solid. But the hits are hardly representative of the true eccentrics that the Deal sisters are. There's an oddball acoustic folk bounce and befuddling wordplay ("I'll drink your soup of magpies from a pottery bowl") on their debut album, Pod; some of its out-there moments carried over Splash ("No Aloha") while a dense stoner fog permeated every pore of their last album, 2001's Title TK. Before you rush out to their show at the Fillmore at the TLA on June 8, keyed up to scream "Want you! Cuckoo! Cannonball!" at the top of your lungs, we recommend a refresher course on what exactly you're in store for. Fortunately, Mountain Battles is just the ticket, as it pulls from all sides of the Deals.

The cranky gears and piercing voices on "Bang On" echo the instrumental oddities of Pod, as does the Deals' decision to, apropos of nothing, include two songs sung in foreign languages ("German Studies," and the Italian rocker "Regalame Esta Noche"). There's a lethargic segment of the album ("Night of Joy," "We're Gonna Rise") that reflects the hazy pace of TK, except these songs are actually listenable, enjoyable and quite pretty. The best moments, however, are when Kim and Kelly wear their rock faces. "Is This Love" is a capstone of guitar interplay and speedy drumming; the dirty, "Wave of Mutilation"-esque bassline of "Walk It Off" booms out of the speakers and recalls Kim's tenure with The Pixies. As a whole, Mountain Battles has The Breeders cutting a cross-section of their careers, revisiting its myriad sounds in top form. Just as they holler on the propulsive opening track "Overglazed"..."I can feel it."

Review by John Vettese

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There was a time round about the 1960’s when a record’s producer was just as integral to a group’s sound as the musicians themselves.  Characters like Phil Spector, Joe Meek and Don Kirshner shaped their often anonymous bands to produce pop music gold.  Over the years, though, as more and more musicians dabbled in production, the producer-as-icon image faded.  If there’s one person in music today who is bringing attention back to the producer’s seat, it’s Brian “Danger Mouse” Burton.  Danger Mouse’s most recent endeavor is the latest from gritty blues duo The Black Keys, Attack & Release.  As fans of The Black Keys are well aware, the boys from Akron are masters at making raw, sludgy rock and roll.  However, with four albums behind them, the time had evidently come to broaden their sonic spectrum.  Danger Mouse spun his magic on the record’s tracks, infusing the moody psychedelia that permeated his production of The Good, The Bad & The Queen last year.  The ghostly atmospherics seem an unlikely match with The Black Keys’ raucous rock, but the combination is surprisingly enjoyable. 

Attack & Release is the Keys’ first record recorded in an actual studio, which adds scores to their already infectious material.  Woozy organs and other assorted synthesizers are plentiful on tracks like “Strange Times” and “Lies”.  At the center of the record is “Remember When”, which stretches over two distinct parts: a hazy ballad and a Gun Club-esque rave-up.  My personal favorite is the album’s closer, “Things Ain’t Like They Used To Be”, where guitarist Dan Auerbach trades lines with 18-year-old bluegrass songstress Jessica Lea Mayfield in some kind of Lee Hazelwood/Nancy Sinatra track from another planet.  As much as I have liked the Keys’ past efforts, it’s clear to me (as it is likely clear to them) that expanding their sound beyond the guitar/drums dynamic is a huge leap forward.  It’s also very admirable for Danger Mouse to step outside his usual retro-hip hop boundaries.  The record producer’s time in the spotlight may have since past, but records like Attack & Release (and Mark Ronson’s Version, for that matter) show the kind of outstanding results a strong pairing of band and producer can, well, produce.

Review by Eric Schuman

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There was a time when the once and future Richard Melville Hall wasn't guaranteeing wealth from his art by licensing his music for movies and commercials, when he wasn't proving he couldn't perform pop-rock to save his life. Well, this just in: We have a confirmed sighting of Evil Ninja Moby. Last Night will shock those who thought Moby's electronica career stopped and started with Play. It also hints at a return to form for oldheads who have longed for the second coming of "Go." And yet, Moby still manages to cast a net of influences the width and breadth of his New York home/scene: He adds old-school rappers to first single "Alice" and "I Love to Move in Here," and industrial noise to the Ambient-era sounds of "Degenerates" and the hind quarter of this album. Breathy French divas and sampled spiritual ones respectively occupy "Hyenas" and "Live for Tomorrow," midtempo numbers that blow away similar Moby output from earlier this decade because, frankly, he's not doing the singing. Meanwhile, "Disco Lies" is pure disco-house with live vocals, and euphoric techno tracks like "Everyday It's 1989" and "The Stars" are fabricated in the same manner as Moby's sampledelic high points from waaaaay back in the day. It's no guarantee that the next "Ah-Ah" or "Next is the E" is hiding here on Last Night, but in Moby's case maybe redemption has to come in small doses.

Review by Adam Blyweiss

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You've probably heard by now that Accelerate is R.E.M.'s "comeback" album, after their last {insert however many recent albums the reviewer didn't like}. Well I liked all of R.E.M.'s post-Bill Berry albums. They all have flaws, and the much-maligned Around The Sun is far from perfect but also far from a (high speed) train wreck. But this is about Accelerate, about the here and the now, which is also what Michael Stipe says the album is thematically about. Musically, the record is stripped down, almost their most punk rock work at times, with fast-paced, lightning-quick songs adding up to just 34 minutes. For some reference points in their massive back catalog, think of the rock songs from Life's Rich Pageant or much of New Adventures In Hi-Fi. Peter Buck brings out the some of his best guitar riffs in ages, with the feedback turned up while Mike Mills is back in full force. His bass parts are vibrant and memorable on the opening one-two punch of "Living Well Is The Best Revenge" and "Man-Sized Wreath." And his backing vocals, which had been disappointingly replaced by overdubbed-Stipe on recent records, are all over Accelerate.

But what's on Stipe's mind nowadays? Politics (of course) and the fast paced ways of the world in 2008. Opener "Living Well Is The Best Revenge" takes Bill O'Reilly-esque pundits to task ("Don't turn your talking points on me/History will set me free") and the brief-but-ominous "Houston" is told from the point of view of a Hurricane Katrina survivor evacuated in Texas. "Mr. Richards" rips into hypocritical politicians, but its title just makes me think of Michael Richards. And the title track documents the breakneck pace of society in the 21st Century. The album does fly by, though it sags a little around the political ballad "Until The Day Is Done" (which could have fit on ATS) and "Mr. Richards" suffers a little by comparison to the rest of the songs. But the album closes with a bang with the hyperactive rocker "Horse To Water" and the apocalyptical party tune "I'm Gonna DJ." And I almost didn't even mention the excellent lead single "Supernatural Superserious" or the surreal, "Glass Onion"-style, self-referencing "Sing For The Submarine." Accelerate is not so much a "return to form" as a new form altogether, echoing elements of their past, but this is R.E.M. in 2008, accelerating towards the future.

Review by Joey O.

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Two years ago, Jack White didn't put the White Stripes brand on hold so much as he decided to expand his own, enlisting indie songwriter Brendan Benson and the rhythm section from garage rockers The Greenhornes to form The Raconteurs. The classic-rock and funk influences on their debut Broken Boy Soldiers made results alternately hymnal (when sung by Benson) and devilish (when sung by White). Their second album Consolers of the Lonely continues White's track record of associating himself with nothing but good music (up to and including his dalliances with Loretta Lynn and Electric Six) but there's something sinister at work here, and it's no longer just heard in the arrangements or seen in the backwoods decor and fashions of which White is so enamored lately. This is now good music more obviously derived from other good music -- and more often than not, thats the music of The White Stripes.

The country majesty of The Raconteurs' "The Switch and the Spur" recalls The White Stripes' cover of "Conquest" from 2007's Icky Thump; "Five on the Five" and "Top Yourself" could have been destined for Thump and De Stijl respectively. First single "Salute Your Solution" even finds Benson contorting his voice to actually sound more like White. Elsewhere, "Old Enough" is pure Southern-fried rock taking cues from Lynyrd Skynyrd, Kansas, The Allman Brothers. Even stranger, this album ends as Soldiers did with a Robert Plant-like blues workout, although instead of the full-on Led Zeppelin crunch of "Blue Veins," "Carolina Drama" invokes Plant's softer, fiddle-filled, singer-songwriter side. It's not like Benson, White, and the rest of the crew don't shine here -- see "These Stones Will Shout" for one power-pop tour de force -- but although Mr. White hasn't yet had a bad musical idea one wonders if he's running out of good ones.

Review by Adam Blyweiss

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No band conveys youthful exuberance better than Be Your Own Pet. A few years back, their first singles and EPs caught the ear of Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth, who signed them to his Ecstatic Peace label. Their new album Get Awkward is pure, hyperactive, punky fun; and finds their musical chops slightly maturing, if not their lyrical worldview. Exhibit A: Get Awkward kicks off with the line "I just want to run around! I just want to party down!" on the bad girl anthem "Super Soaker." Twenty-year-old singer Jemina Pearl sings of teenage love ("Twisted Nerve"), zombies ("Zombie Graveyard Party!") and food fights ("Food Fight," of course). But she also laments growing up on "Super Soaker" and is caught in a love triangle of sorts in "Heart Throb." You've heard "The Kelly Affair" on Y-Rock on XPN, which is a blast of surf rock beats and lyrics inspired by the debauchery of Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls. Musically, the band often invokes the young punks of the 80s, such as the Descendents, on songs like "Bummer Time" and "Food Fight." I finally got to catch Be Your Own Pet live at SXSW earlier this month and the band certainly lives up to their whirling dervish reputation. Imagine a tiny blonde girl possessed by the spirit of the Iggy Pop and you have Jemina Pearl onstage, with the three guys in the band doing more than enough to keep up with her energy level (even if that means the music gets a little sloppy). Be Your Own Pet is the candy bar of garage punk and if you're in the mood, Get Awkward certainly is a delicious sugar rush.

Review by Joey O.

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It's rather telling that the line "We're gonna have some fun, son" is sung near the end of Saturnalia, the Gutter Twins' debut-at-long-last. It suggests that the music leading to that pyrrhic declaration in "Front Street" was introduction, statement of intent, planning for what comes next after a filmic scenario like being cornered in a back-alley shootout. Greg Dulli (first of The Afghan Whigs, now of The Twilight Singers) and Mark Lanegan (first of Screaming Trees, then of work with Isobel Campbell, Queens of the Stone Age, and Soulsavers) surround themselves with players who help deliver the measured tension they cultivated through this decade. When the Twins harmonize on songs such as "All Misery/Flowers" Lanegan's baritone is a thing of fearsome beauty, lyrics like "The way I burn/is a son of a bitch" stumbling and flailing like an innocent man on the run. "God's Children" and first single "Idle Hands" lay guitar work from the 90s over the wail of harmonium and string sections, while "Each to Each" is a complex climax with drum programming and elements of chamber pop. Saturnalia is soaked in the sweat and murky tones of Black Crowes bar rock, Wilco's alt-country, and the New American Gothic pushed by the likes of Murder by Death. There's not a true standout track on here, but the album's atmosphere demands to be put on repeat.

Review by Adam Blyweiss

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Trent Reznor's recent sobriety and the flagging music industry seem to have turned him and Nine Inch Nails into one pretty music machine. Since 2005 we've seen two traditional albums, a remix album, Saul Williams' Niggy Tardust project, and now the real shock of the new: Ghosts I-IV, which ups Radiohead's free-agent ante on so many levels. NIN first use technology to reach listeners both casual and devoted -- download this stuff via NIN.com, Amazon, or torrent; hear it in high-end audio formats; pay for various pretty packages to look at and hold. Then, remarkably, NIN manage to deliver where it matters most. Where In Rainbows sounded like a good Radiohead album, Ghosts I-IV is either nothing you'd ever expected or everything you'd ever wanted from Nine Inch Nails. Reznor's well-worn vocal range and one-note rage are wholly absent, so the 36 instrumentals here both "sound like NIN" and are open to further exploration. The cumulative effect is much like listening to master craftsmen at work with new and purposefully mucked-up tools, Reznor ably assisted by the likes of producer Atticus Ross,, prog-rock guitar veteran Adrian Belew, and Dresden Dolls drummer Brian Viglione.

Into Ghosts I-IV they insert neo-classical nods to Claude Debussy, John Cage, and Thomas Newman, and hints of beats favored by everyone from Kraftwerk to Boards of Canada to Brian Eno (alone and when he worked with Davids Byrne and Bowie). There's a spooked country feel to "18 Ghosts II" and "5 Ghosts I," Sonic Youth re- and de-tuning in "31 Ghosts IV," and homages elsewhere to Aphex Twin ("6 Ghosts I"), Prince ("32 Ghosts IV"), and Coil. These two loosely organized hours of music are never boring and infinitely malleable. Consumers could use this as a linear journey, as random-shuffle background noise for workspaces, as the soundtrack for the images in the album's artwork, or even as the soundtrack to a student film or three via a Creative Commons license. Does all of this make Ghosts I-IV a masterpiece? That's still to be borne out, although selling out of $750,000 w