Sunset Rubdown: Shut Up I Am Dreaming

Imagine spinning the crank on a jack-in-the-box. You listen to the creepy music and you wait... and wait... and wait for the release, but it just doesn't come. And you sit there, anxiously spinning and waiting and spinning and waiting. That's kind of what Shut Up I Am Dreaming is like.

Music:
There's a lot of tension on this album, but it's constrained within some decent pop songs that are almost memorable. The music is loose and sloppy and relatively simple, but it stays together well. Neither the music nor lyrics are particularly notable, and at times it sounds like the band is trying way too hard to be clever and quirky. The album is cohesive, though, and it comes together in a way that is disturbingly satisfying. (For you Baltimoreans out there, track 9 on the EPFL copy is dead, so be prepared if you decide to check this out.)

Packaging: n/a (Altered by EPFL)
EPFL cut up the original package to fit into a jewel box, so there's nothing here except the front and back covers. There are some interesting themes (bodies being thrown into bonfires, stabbings, and lone figures praying), but without the context of the rest of the package, the artwork is dull. (Of course, the artwork may also be dull even in context of the rest of the package.)

Listen if you like: Bowie and/or Tin Machine, TV on the Radio, Kurt Weill, Wolf Parade (Sunset Rubdown's main guy, Spencer Krug, is from Wolf Parade).

If it were food, it'd be: A tasty but uninspiring meal at a hip restaurant where you're having a first date with someone who is quirky and smart and unsettled and noisy and definitely off their meds.

Burning Spear: Man in the Hills / Dry and Heavy

Reggae isn't really my thing, but I know that Burning Spear -- a.k.a. Winston Rodney -- is an artist who deserves to be heard. This CD contains two early Burning Spear albums, and it's easy to understand why they are both said to be great reggae records.

The opening track, "Man in the Hills," is about a family working together, each member doing what he or she can for the greater good. The overall mood is not one of exhaustion or complaints, but one of harmony and love and joy. As the albums progress, this harmonious hope is layered atop political awareness and pleas for peace among warring groups. There is an overarching sense of black pride, but it is inclusive and tolerant rather than exclusive and racist.

Frankly, as a citizen of Baltimore at a time when women routinely raise their children alone, parents cycle between addiction and incarceration, and young people identify with music that celebrates violence and hatred, Burning Spear's message is shocking. It's shocking to hear about a family working together in the name of love. It's shocking to hear a musician praise responsibility and community. It's shocking to hear a story about a dad who didn't leave the family to pursue his love for drugs or violence or good times. It's shocking to hear music that is hopeful and positive, yet still powerful and revolutionary.

Music:
Even if you don't love reggae, this is worth a listen. Yes, it can be monotonous to those of us who don't have a deep passion for reggae, but when I listen on headphones and pay attention to the words and music, each track takes on a life of its own. The performances are flawless, and the band has a great groove. Rodney's voice is smooth but powerful, and he brings a richness to the music that makes it clear why Burning Spear is considered to be one of the most important artists in the history of reggae.

Packaging:
The artwork and liner notes are very good. So many "two albums on one disc" packages include nothing more than the covers and track listings from the original albums, but that's not the case here. The original notes from Man in the Hills are included (notes for Dry and Heavy are absent, making me wonder whether or not any were included on the original release), as are full musician credits for each album. Best of all, there's a three-page essay that talks about the history of Burning Spear, the making of these two albums, and each of the songs. The color scheme, photos, and paper stock all contribute to a package that is almost perfect. The only thing that could have been better was the typeface for the essay, which is hard to read due to the small text and the brown-on-tan palette.

Listen if you like: Bob Marley and the Wailers, and you want to learn more about what reggae is about; music that is optimistic without being spineless; being black, or listening to music about being black.

If it were food, it'd be: a home-cooked meal with your family after a hard day of working together in a beautiful but imperfect world.

Various Artists: Nicky Siano's Legendary "The Gallery" The Original New York Disco 1973-1977

Before it got screwed up by greedy record labels and clueless club owners, disco was actually pretty awesome. The music was about freedom and love, and the original disco DJs would play anything (as long as it was good, sounded strong through the speakers, and fit the mood of the dance floor). Rock, soul, jazz, gospel, blues, even world music... it was all fair game for the great disco DJs.

Nicky Siano was (and is) a great disco DJ. When you listen to the music he put together on this disc, it's obvious that Siano cares about connecting with his crowd. It's obvious that he uses music as a way to reach out to every single person in the room. It's obvious that he understands how music can make us feel alive. This music is powerful and exciting, it's filled with truth and tolerance, and it makes you want to stand up and celebrate.

Really, if you think you hate disco, try this out. Chances are, the only reason you hate disco is because you've never heard disco. Pick this CD up, put on some headphones or crank it up in the car, and give your body up to the music.

Music:
There's not a bad song on here. Future house diva Loleatta Holloway demonstrates that disco, at its finest, was music of love, spirit, and power. The Pointer Sisters were an exciting and unique band at one point in time, as "Yes We Can Can" proves. "Exuma, The Obeah Man" by Exuma sounds like The Rolling Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil" mixed with Ladysmith Black Mambazo. There are classic Motown artists like The Temptations and The Supremes and soul stalwarts like Bill Withers and The Isley Brothers. If the album doesn't make you at least tap your foot, you might want to check your pulse.

Packaging:
The booklet is as good as the liner notes in a Smithsonian Folkways CD, but it's way more fun. It's like a guided tour through the disco that no one knows, but everyone -- at least everyone who loves music -- should know. The pictures alone have a great historical value, but the "essays" from Siano and dance music historian Tim Lawrence are what makes this package shine. Again, if you think you don't like disco, give this a shot; at least you'll start to understand what it is that you think you hate.

Listen if you like: house, electronica, R&B, civil rights, gay rights, music that makes you want to get up and dance.

If it were food, it'd be: An organic fruit smoothie from one of the handful of post-disco parties that still happen today.

Pinback: Autumn of the Seraphs

Sometimes an album is just good enough to make you realize it's not very good. Autumn of the Seraphs is one of those albums. Pinback has some genuinely interesting ideas, but they're mired in mediocre songwriting, weak lyrics, and bad production.

Autumn of the Seraphs reminds me of early Death Cab for Cutie. Sure, there were some good ideas on those first few Death Cab CDs, but they were mired in mediocre songwriting, weak lyrics, and bad production. Things clicked for DCfC somewhere around their third album. Pinback has already released more than three albums, but something tells me this is as "clicked" as they're going to get. It's a shame, because they come close to making some special music. They just never figure out how to get past the mediocrity and let the greatness shine.

Music:
Not to harp on Death Cab comparisons, but Pinback reminds me of a half-baked Postal Service. While Jimmy Tamborello's electronic layers bring a warmth and humanity to the Postal Service, Zach Smith and Rob Crow's synths and drum machines are as cold as the worst 80s new wave bands. It's not the kind of coldness that Kraftwerk or Depeche Mode mastered, for both of those bands succeeded in finding the hearts that lived within the machine; no, Pinback's music is cold in the way Human League was cold -- they're cold because they're not good enough to be anything else. The best thing I can say about Autumn of the Seraphs -- and it truly is a good thing -- is that the layers of instrumentation and vocals occasionally create some wonderful melodies and counter-melodies.

Packaging:
Like the music, the artwork is a one-dimensional portrayal of a scene that should have some depth. The cover art reminds me of Narnia, if it had been created by a writer who lacked the humanity to find the warmth hidden amidst its frigid landscapes.

Listen if you like: early Death Cab for Cutie, Matt Pond PA, slightly better-than-average indie rock. If you liked the jaggedness of the first few Police albums but find the warmth and soul of that band offputting, this should be right up your alley.

If it were food, it'd be: A processed milkshake from a fast-food joint.

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals: This Is Somewhere

This is the kind of album that excites rock critics and college radio DJs and in-the-know music fans for two or three months, until the next album that excites rock critics and college radio DJs and in-the-know music fans comes along. This is the kind of album that keeps us occupied while we're waiting for something that blows our minds. And that's totally OK. This Is Somewhere is honest, it sounds heartfelt, and it's good. There are much worse ways to spend a few months than listening to this album.

Music:
The musicianship is competent, the songs are well-written, and the hooks almost get stuck in your head. The lyrics are occasionally thought-provoking and occasionally kind of generic. (For what it's worth, "Ah Mary" is one of the most clever, charming, and subtle political songs I've heard in a long time.) It's a good album that does its thing really well, but it doesn't break any new ground.

Packaging:
The cover photo is strong, and I'm annoyed that the good people at EPFL stuck a sticker right on top of it. The image is a little bit abstract, it shows the band without fully showing the band (I assume it's the band on the cover but I can't tell for certain, thanks to that annoying sticker), and it subconsciously conveys the band's roots-rock sound by using props like an old Chevy truck. The inside photos are simple portraits with a great deal of personality. It would've been nice if designer Lawrence Azerrad hadn't skipped class on the day his art school professors discussed how serif typefaces break up at very small sizes.

Listen if you like: Any rootsy American female singer from the past 40 years: Janis Joplin, Bonnie Raitt, Maria McKee, Melissa Etheridge, Sheryl Crow.

If it were food, it'd be: A bag of frozen strawberries on a cold March morning when you're desperately waiting for spring.

Josh Ritter: Golden Age of Radio

There are lots of small moments in Golden Age of Radio that could be used to build a case for Josh Ritter's talent, but one subtle thing about the song "Harrisburg" speaks volumes.

As Ritter's story of a railroad car and a man named Romero builds, the tempo of the song gradually increases. The art of letting a song's tempo ebb and flow has been largely neglected during an era when drummers are judged by their abilities to record with click tracks and songs are so precisely structured that they could be graphed in Excel.

Ritter knows that good stories need to breathe, and one of the many ways he brings his songs to life is by letting them breathe.

Music:
Ritter has gotten better since this album came out, but this album is still better than what most musicians will ever record. Golden Age of Radio sounds as if Ritter had one foot confidently planted in his own style, while the other stood tentatively in the pool of his influences. ("You've Got the Moon" could end a mix CD that opens with "Pink Moon;" it's a pretty great compliment even if it does point out a lack of originality.) Unlike his more recent albums, Golden Age of Radio is pretty good with moments of greatness, rather than great with moments of pretty goodness.

As an aside, the tray card of the EPFL's version of Golden Age of Radio mentions a bonus disc. Unfortunately, there is no bonus disc to be found. Hey, EPFL... what's the deal?

Packaging:
It's a typical indie release: artsy snapshots, uninteresting fonts, and generic design. Fortunately, the designer(s) had the sense to layout the lyrics in simple columns with lots of white space. There's nothing terribly wrong with the package, but there's nothing special about it, either.

Listen if you like: Nick Drake, Ryan Adams, simple words that pack a punch.

If it were food, it'd be: a promising meal at a new restaurant where things aren't quite perfect yet.

Various Artists: Elizabethtown - Music from the Motion Picture

As a collection of music, Elizabethtown stands tall. The lyrics generally deal with falling apart, picking up the pieces, and moving forward -- a theme that also plays a major role in the movie. Because of this, the music is tied together in a way that is uncommon in even the best soundtracks.

As a soundtrack, however, this CD is lacking. Some key songs from the movie are missing, and they're replaced by music that was buried in the film's background. (A second volume of soundtrack songs and a score were released, neither of which is currently available from EPFL.)

These facts make this album both a sub-par and superb soundtrack. A casual fan who wants to relive the movie will be disappointed, but this is a good record that honors the film's spirit. It's obvious that director Cameron Crowe -- a former Rolling Stone writer who is a music nut in his own right -- put a lot of thought and heart into choosing these songs.

Music:
While some songs are absent from the Elizabethtown soundtrack (notably The Temptations' "I Can't Get Next to You," Fleetwood Mac's "Big Love," and the live performance of "Freebird"), the CD focuses on others that I never noticed while watching the movie. "It'll All Work Out" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, "Don't I Hold You" by Wheat, "Hard Times" by eastmountainsouth, and "Shut Us Down" by Lindsey Buckingham are strong songs that deserve a serious listen or three.

Packaging:
The package is designed to look like the box of music that Claire (Kirsten Dunst) gives to Drew (Orlando Bloom). The theme fits, but the package lacks substance. With the exception of the inside-back cover (a quote by J. Bebe and R. Hammond, two members of the fictitious band Stillwater from Crowe's Almost Famous), the booklet doesn't contain anything worth reading or even looking at twice. Considering the importance Crowe places on the music in his films, this is a disappointing package.

Listen if you like: American roots rock like Tom Petty or Patty Griffin, Cameron Crowe movies, discovering that sometimes bad things happen in our lives so we can make room for what we really need.

If it were food, it'd be: a casserole your neighbor sends over after a loved one dies. It may not be what you want or what you were expecting, but when you're racked with grief because your whole world just fell apart, it fills you up the way few meals possibly could.