video review: 'it's album time' by todd terje (RETRO REVIEW)

Man, this record was a lot of unexpected fun. Definitely highly recommended, if you haven't checked it out already - and considering it came out about eight months ago, you don't have any excuses.

Okay, tomorrow is episode 3 of Billboard BREAKDOWN, so stay tuned!

album review: 'it's album time' by todd terje (RETRO REVIEW)

One of the biggest criticisms of 2014 in music as a whole is that it's been a bit of a boring year. Not in that things haven't happened or great albums haven't been released - I've got lists that are bursting at the seams of great songs and albums you'll be seeing very soon - but that there haven't been truly 'classic' records dropped or songs/events that really lit the world on fire. It's one of the reasons why there hasn't been a lot of critical consensus in terms of album picks on the year-end lists that have already been released - a few recurring names, but not a lot in common at the top.

And there is something to this argument. With few exceptions, music both in the underground and mainstream has seemed more reserved and less willing to shock or be in your face in comparison with last year, where there was a lot of that. Coupled with stagnation on the pop charts, it's led to a year where not a lot has seemed to have happened, and with rare exception, the top albums are a little more subdued, not as immediately quantifiable as outright awesome. And once again, with only a few exceptions, I can agree with that.

But discussing why this is the case is a little trickier. Some of it might just be burnout - too much of Kanye screaming and Miley's ass in our face might have just exhausted people and led them to be more accepting of quieter, potentially even less interesting material. As such, I've been wary of checking out the long-awaited debut album from Todd Terje all year. He's a Norwegian DJ who's been around in the electronic and disco scene for almost ten years, with a reputation for making what he himself has described as 'good, danceable elevator music'. In other words, it wasn't exactly a record that was screaming for attention - but, given some of the critical acclaim it has received, I was curious enough to check it out? So, is it really 'album time'?

video review: 'the golden echo' by kimbra

Well, this was... odd. I wish I liked the instrumentation better, but Kimbra's got some solid thematic arcs here that are definitely worth some consideration.

Next up... okay, apparently Dragonforce dropped an album in 2012 that I didn't know about, so I need a little more time for them. In between...

Chase Rice. Oh fuck.

album review: 'the golden echo' by kimbra

In 2012, the world was rocked by a surprise indie hit that soared up the charts and remained there for months on end, a song that would ultimately become the #1 song of Billboard's year-end charts of that year, capping off a year in pop music that has held up surprisingly well upon re-examination. It was a level of success previously unknown to the artist and his collaborator, the former who had spent the previous decade quietly making very solid indie albums that had garnered him a fair amount of respect and critical appreciation.

Of course, the singer-songwriter I'm talking about in this case is Gotye, and the song is 'Somebody That I Used To Know', a song to this day I really like and yet can say it's not even the best song on that third album Making Mirrors. But while he works on his next record, let's talk about his collaborator on that song and the real reason why it works as well as it does: Kimbra, a New Zealand singer-songwriter who had released her debut album Vows in 2011. And having revisited that record... well, it's odd. Kimbra's blend of retro-glam breathy vocals was an odd fit against the aggressively chipper jazzy indie pop and over-expansive production, and when you throw in lyrics going for cooing lounge singer entreaties with a subversive feminist edge and an undercurrent of brittle instability, you got a unique and decidedly memorable performer. And despite a few missteps, I really dug the mess of contradictions that coalesced on that record, mostly because Kimbra was the sort of singer who I could still pull together a melodically interesting and lyrically nuanced track. 

So you can bet I was intrigued about her newest album The Golden Echo, especially considering the early buzz suggested the album was even more of a mess than its predecessor. So I took a look: what did I get?

video review: 'in technicolor' by jesse mccartney

I kind of wish this record was better than it was. Not a bad record by any stretch, but still...

Okay, Common next. Stay tuned!

album review: 'in technicolor' by jesse mccartney

So about a year ago, I went to see The Backstreet Boys live in concert, and surprise surprise, it was a great show. All five of them sound fantastic, they're still stellar dancers, and the multi-part harmonies were paired with some killer pop hits that have allowed them to sell out some pretty sizable venues. Even if you're not a fan of the group or you think that the 90s boy bands should have stayed in that decade and be rightly forgotten, it'd be hard to deny that the Backstreet Boys' longevity and stage production was pretty damn solid.

But what surprised me about the show was their opening act: Jesse McCartney, an act of which the majority of you probably forgot existed but who was briefly relevant in the spotlight in the confused pop charts of the late 2000s with his two major singles 'Leavin'' and 'How Do You Sleep'. And honestly, I really liked 'Leavin' and a few relistens reminded me why - the electronic elements were tasteful, it was confident and sincere without being insufferable, and the abuse of autotune that plagued R&B-inspired pop songs of the era was mostly muted. It was the definition of the sort of slick pop song Justin Timberlake could knock out of the park in his sleep - and unsurprisingly, the comparisons started immediately and were mostly unfair, because the two acts were in different lanes. Timberlake was gunning for Michael Jackson's throne, where Jesse McCartney had his eyes more on the blue-eyed soul of the past.

And thus, I really shouldn't be surprised that he finally managed to get his fourth album released when with the success of classier acts like Sam Smith, neo-soul acts seemed primed for chart success. And since I really did like his opening act and was curious to see more, I took a look at that album: how is it?

video review: 'jungle' by jungle

Ugh, this was a dud. You hope indie projects in this vein would turn out better than this.

Okay, I need a little more time for Shabazz Palaces and Common, so next up will be someone you normally haven't seen and might not expect. Stay tuned!

album review: 'jungle' by jungle

Let's talk a little about disco.

As a genre, it tends to have a much worse reputation than it really deserves for a lot of wrong reasons. It was scorned because it was dance music made primarily by producers instead of songwriters... but then again, we now live in an era where EDM has become one of the hottest selling genres worldwide. It was hated because it was synthetic and electronic and felt plastic... in other words, like every other genre that touches pop music in the mainstream for the past twenty years. It was loathed because it emerged from the gay dance club scene and thus the backlash that had been seething against that music and much of the black culture that had supported the jazz, funk, and soul of its roots finally had an outlet to explode, and I shouldn't even have to tell you why that backlash was at best misguided and at worst moronic. If we're looking for a more legitimate reason why disco died in the late 70s, it was the same reasons any music trend dies: musical evolution in sound and style; and sheer overexposure.

But given the current musical and political climate and especially the resurgence of soul, dance music and even reggae-inspired tracks on the charts, it wasn't a surprise that acts began jumping towards a new incarnation of disco, even in the underground where with the rise of the internet it has never been easier for unknown acts to snag chart smashes. So with that comes Jungle, a band that began as a viral sensation in 2013 before signing to XL and dropping a debut album they described as 'midtempo 70s-inspired funk'. That, if anything, was enough to attract my interest, so I gave that self-titled debut a few listens: how did it go?

video review: 'paula' by robin thicke

Well, this was exactly as disastrous as everyone predicted. I'm giving him points for trying - not many points, but, you know, points.

Next up... I have no clue. A few ideas, but nothing settled on quite yet. Stay tuned!

album review: 'paula' by robin thicke

It has been quite the year for Robin Thicke.

Around this time in 2013, Robin Thicke released the album Blurred Lines, an album that would catapult him to the top of the charts with its eponymous single and incite angry thinkpieces by music journalists for the rest of the year, especially after the controversy of the VMAs - which, really, since Kanye West hijacked the microphone from Taylor Swift in 2009, was the best thing that could have happened for that exercise in pointlessness in years.

Now lost among the hyperbole and accusations and inveterate trolling were a few things. Most notably, one important question should have been recovered: was the album any good? Well, it was one of the first reviews I ever made and I do stand by it, and I stand by my assertion that the whole 'Blurred Lines' controversy was blown way out of proportion, especially in a year that had songs that also charted that were far, far worse. Did everyone just forget the Rocko, Rick Ross, and Future collaboration that framed date rape as no big deal, or a good chunk of Lil Wayne's output in 2013? I'm not going to reiterate what I've said about 'Blurred Lines' - the review's right here, go check it if you're interested - but speaking as a feminist, I will say this: there's a big difference between being a misogynist and a moron. And ever since the beginning of his career, Thicke falls into the latter category, especially with his lyrics, which frequently fall on the wrong side of the line between 'charming' and 'goofy as hell'. And combined with the fact that he never really seemed to have the charisma or emotional investment in his material of Justin Timberlake or Usher, it's no surprise Thicke got hit by a backlash tsunami, and it also makes sense why he seemed completely clueless as to why. 

But this backlash wasn't the only thing to hit Robin Thicke this year, as his wife Paula Patton also left him for a slew of complicated reasons on which none of the gossip websites I had to visit for researching this review could agree. What did become apparent is that Thicke was nowhere near as 'over' the relationship as Paula, because he chose to release a full album of material named after her in an attempt to win her back. I'll admit, I had a really bad feeling about this record. Like it or not, as much as Thicke might see it as a grand romantic gesture and as much as I might respect the man for showing vulnerability in his subject matter... look, not many R&B acts can do this sort of album well. But I was definitely curious so I gave Paula a couple listens - is it any good?

video review: 'reflektor' by arcade fire

Man, I imagine this won't go over well. Eh, it happens - I try to be as honest as possible.

Next will probably be Thomas Rhett, then Toby Keith. Stay tuned!

album review: 'reflektor' by arcade fire

The year was 2004, and indie rock was experiencing an unexpected and yet very welcome boom, courtesy of the success of acts like The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Modest Mouse, Franz Ferdinand, The Killers, and a collection of other strong singles and albums, all of which would have mixed to diminishing success throughout the rest of the decade. The band that left arguably the biggest mainstream cultural footprint would probably be The Killers, with the success of 'Mr. Brightside', 'Somebody Told Me', and 'All The Things That I Have Done' off of their great debut Hot Fuss, but the critical crosshairs were aimed at a very different band that also had their full-length debut that year, an album that would be widely acclaimed as one of the best of the decade.

Yes, of course we're talking about Arcade Fire and their legendary debut Funeral (well, actually their debut was a self-titled EP a year earlier, but whatever). I have to be honest here, for the longest time I avoided getting into Arcade Fire because there were a number of traits about the Canadian indie rock band that really pissed me off. They had a degree of arrogant, humourless pretentiousness which got insufferable in large doses, both vocalists could get more than a little grating, and the lyrics didn't seem nearly as deep or resonant as they clearly thought they were. Coupled with Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne's disparaging comments on how little he liked Arcade Fire's attitude, it put me off from looking into the band for a long time.

But when churning through my backlog, I decided to give the first three Arcade Fire albums a listen, and you know what? They're very good, possibly even great, and while I stand by all of my complaints, I do think the band has some real talents in composition and writing irresistibly catchy melodies with a wide variety of instruments. And say what you will about their lyrics - hit and miss though they are - they do have a fair amount of nuance in approaching big ideas which I can definitely appreciate. Funeral did a shockingly good job dissecting how human beings deal with death, and managed not to get bogged down in the bleakness of it all - I can definitely see why it is critically adored to this day. Neon Bible opted for the 'dark sophomore album' route and while it was significantly messier, it did a decent enough job - although the tonal dissonance between the lyrics and the instrumentation occasionally got very questionable. The Suburbs was perhaps Arcade Fire's simplest album in terms of instrumentation and melodies, but it paid huge dividends in a surprisingly nuanced portrayal of suburban life and problems that called to mind the roots rock and Americana of the mid-70s - and on top of that, you could buy into the fact that the sentiments driving the album came from a very real place (in other words, it should be no surprise The Suburbs is probably my favourite Arcade Fire album). So with that, I was a little encouraged going into their new album Reflektor, even despite the mixed critical opinions. How did it turn out?

video review: 'the electric lady' by janelle monae

Man, I was happy that I got a chance to review this, because it's a great album and I don't think I'll have many of those for the next little bit. 

Seriously, if you didn't get the message in my previous post, you need to check this album out immediately, it's definitely for an artist who deserves far more fame than she gets. Janelle Monae's 'The Electric Lady' might not be as much to my tastes as 'The ArchAndroid', but goddamnit, it's close.

And now for the shitstorm to commence... 2 Chainz, you're up.

album review: 'blurred lines' by robin thicke

For those of you who haven't been following the charts this year, let me provide a bit of commentary discussing the bizarre trends sprouting up on the Billboard Hot 100. While the year started slow (with the early months dominated by either the Harlem Shake, 'Thrift Shop', or a series of piano-driven ballads), a new trend began to coalesce as the summer began, a trend spurred by the release of a critically acclaimed album courtesy of one of the best electronica groups in the country, an album I may have already reviewed.

The song was 'Get Lucky', the band was Daft Punk, the album was Random Accessed Memories, and the music was a blend of funk and disco, two genres that many considered dead at the end of the 70s. And yet here they were, making a comeback unlike anything we'd seen. And while I had been saying the 70s had been making a comeback since earlier this year, it was nice to see the charts reflect some of that. And really, the stylistic flourishes that represented that decade were popping up all over the chart, from the chanting and 'righteous cause' bombast from Macklemore to the slick R&B touches with Justin Timberlake. Hell, Snoop Lion dropped an album that was basically an attempt at resurrecting politically-charged reggae! And with the exception of 'When I Was Your Man', both of Bruno Mars' charting singles were basically 70s throwbacks and they were easily on par with the best of his material!

But really, the song that had to rise to the top was 'Get Lucky'. Not only was it a scintillating and enthralling blend of disco and funk modernized, it had a real playful elegance in the lyrics that vaulted it above the average disco track. In my mind, it still is in hot contention for my list of the best songs of the year, and it might just rise to the top.

Unfortunately, it's been blocked from the #1 slot by another pseudo disco track that apparently jumped out of nowhere, also starring Pharrell, a song that very quickly drew some controversy for some rather overtly sexual lyrics. And it's this song - the title track from the album we're going to talk about today - that has blocked Daft Punk for over five weeks, and it's courtesy of an artist who I thought went out of business a good six years ago.

So let's talk about this artist, shall we? Robin Thicke is a guy you're all forgiven for forgetting, because outside of one single Glee did infinitely better, he honestly hasn't done much that I immediately remembered. Granted, I give him a bit more credit going back through his discography, but I've never been able to like his music all that much, and after listening through his albums, I think I know why. 

For starters, unlike many R&B crooners, Robin Thicke does have a fair amount of vocal personality, and his falsetto range is incredibly impressive (see, Julian Casablancas, this is how you do it). And I'll give him this, when he wants to make a song that sounds incredibly sexual, he has the slick sophistication and class to make it work. However, there's something about his delivery that doesn't quite click with me, namely that I never quite buy that he's entirely emotionally invested in his material. In comparison to, say, Usher, who throws everything and the kitchen sink into his love songs, Robin Thicke is a bit more laid-back, and that kind of puts me off a bit. On top of that, too often his lyrics can be a little too jokey and silly, and while there is a certain degree of self-awareness, it can sometimes undercut or confuse the emotional current of the song.

Now granted, I'll admit right now that R&B isn't my strong suit when it comes to genres (one of the reasons I didn't review Ciara's Body Party, outside of no interest and the general consensus being rather mixed on it). It's not that I can't recognize good R&B, but more that I have a much smaller tolerance for it in comparison to, say, country music. Most of this comes from the lyrics, in that too often the subject matter behind them seems a bit thin or the lyrics feel underwritten. But then again, that might be an area where Robin Thicke's goofier side might be an asset - he might not make an incredibly intelligent or moving R&B album, but I bet he could still make an interesting one.

So, how does his new album Blurred Lines fare?

Youtube review after the jump

album review: 'random accessed memories' by daft punk

You know, for every terrible will.i.am or Chris Brown album I review, there's one great benefit to this gig, and it's a fairly simple one: getting the chance to go through the discographies of the greats.

It's a real thrill of anticipation, knowing that you're going to be perusing the collected works of acts that have amassed critical praise and massive success, but that you've never really had the chance to enjoy in detail. It's that amazing feeling when you realize you've discovered an artist for the first time (in your mind, at least) and you're experiencing something special, getting the chance to listen or watch something that can open your mind to all new possibilities. Because as fun as it can be to tear the justly deserving a new one, it's even more fun to find an act that has experienced critical praise and discover for yourself just how and why they got it. And while you will run into occasional duds or stretches of mediocrity, more often than not you find greatness. Of course, it's even more fun to find an unjustly overlooked act and sing their praises to the high heavens (which was my Nick Cave experience), but sometimes it's just as revelatory to join with the crowd.

And thus it becomes so cruelly ironic that it is only now I'm examining Daft Punk, one of the most critically acclaimed and beloved electronic acts of all time, and one that has built so much of their music on the principle of bringing people together. I'm completely serious here: up until this week, my experience of listening to Daft Punk has been confined to the few singles I've heard and a viewing of Interstella 5555 a long time ago. I've known they're great - they're one of the few unequivocably great things about TRON: Legacy - but I've never really had the chance to delve into the Daft Punk oeuvre.

Now, those of you who have read these reviews before likely know why I've been slow to listen to Daft Punk, but I'm sure a few of you are asking, 'well, if you knew Daft Punk was so goddamn great, why the hell didn't you listen to them before?' And really, that's a completely fair question - unlike Nick Cave or Depeche Mode, Daft Punk really don't have the massive backlog discography that would render tearing through their early albums all that strenuous. But those of you who have read my reviews before likely remember my general objections to reviewing electronica, mostly because I'm still not all that sure how to do it properly. That's one of the reasons you never saw a review of Armin van Buuren's new trance album that came out early this month - as much as they'd make my reviews considerably shorter, I tend to respond better when it comes to more lyrical material that relies more on words and less on feeling. And considering so much of electronica is based on feeling and mood (unless you're a serious sound nerd who can pull apart individual pieces of the song and assign meaning to them - I've seen a few of these guys and they're something else), I feel a little unqualified to talk about it.

Incidentally, this is one of the reasons I can speak at great length about an electronic act like The Chemical Brothers, of whom I'm a big fan. But this, I think, comes down to an issue of construction - so much of The Chemical Brothers' material is based upon judiciously chosen samples and a semi-coherent narrative that I find them more accessible, at least for reviewing purposes. It's a little easier to chart out album themes and messages with lyrics or samples, instead of just coming from the musical 'feel', per se.

But Daft Punk were different, at least on their early albums. They came onto the scene in the late 90s with Homework, and were immediately distinguishable from the rest of the Eurodance with an embrace of funky electronica and an array of weirdness in their audiovisual style. Like the rest of their contemporaries, the thematic elements of their music were about bringing people together to dance and have a great time, but the introduction of funk into the mix gave their music a strange edge that was distinctive, but not confrontational. In comparison to the sugary, super-optimistic dance tracks of the mid-to-late 90s, Daft Punk were expressing the same emotions but filtering them through a very different aesthetic, which gave their music a lot of character and personality. Their embrace of mid-to-late 70s funk tunes might seem a bit confrontational for electronica, but by filtering the energy and looseness of funk through their unique vision they created a sound unlike any of their contemporaries. It was a fusion of two musical genres very different in tone and theme, but very alike in energy and passion, creating something very much unlike anything else in modern music.

Then came Discovery and Interstella 5555, and at least to me, these two are halves of the same incredible whole. The music so perfectly matches the animation that considering one without the other feels a little incomplete, but it's a real testament to how great the disco-inspired album is that it still manages to hold up as an incredibly solid album on its own. If I was forced to make a choice between Discovery and Homework... damn, that's a tough choice, but I'd probably go for Discovery if only due to the fact that it's a little tighter and the disco melody lines are a little stronger. Plus, the sound is a bit more varied and there's a lot of emotional texture on Discovery that I really appreciated. As it is, it's one of the greatest electronic albums of all time and I can't help but place it in the upper echelons of great music.

And then Daft Punk made Human After All, and I'll be the first one to say that I don't dislike this album with the same intensity that a lot of Daft Punk fans do. Yes, it's not nearly as good as Homework or Discovery, but I still dug the hell out of the sludgy, rawer feel they were looking to create. The problem was that they didn't quite deviate enough from the formula, which got old and tired pretty fast. But while I'm convinced Daft Punk could have made a stronger album here with the material they were pursuing, it was enough to push Daft Punk back towards the material that made them stronger and iconic. 

And with that, after a series of live cuts and soundtracks, they made Random Access Memories, the now critically-acclaimed album that has been embraced and beloved by many? So what do I think of it?