Anonymous - Tomahawk:
If the sight of garbage strewn across the highway brings a tear to your eye, then this is the album for you. When asked about the decision to record an album full of authentic Native American songs, Mike Patton had only this to say- The strangeness of this life cannot be measured. In trying to produce my own death, I was elevated to the status of a living hero. And then he made horns with his fingers and began to poke me with them while repeatedly saying Tatonka.
Three Netflix stars.
Orchestra of Wolves - Gallows:
On first listen, I wasn’t too impressed with this UK punk band- and then I looked down and noticed my balls had been rocked clean off. The events that followed could best be described as a Benny Hill inspired interpretation of On Top Of Old Smokey, complete with fast motion action and zany music. That’s a spicy meat-a-ball!
Four Netflix stars.
Zookeeper - Zookeeper Ep:
That whiny dude from Mineral and The Gloria Record is back with more of his patented whinyness, only this time with a bit of an alt-country edge. He apparently still loves Jesus, though. And before you ask, yes, Jesus he knows me, and he knows I’m right. I’ve been talking to Jesus all my life.
Three Netflix stars.
Planet of Ice - Minus The Bear:
Does it make anyone else uncomfortable when this guy gets all sexy with his lyrics? Like he’s Prince and shit? It just seems out of place, to me. This slightly toned down version of MIB’s mathy dance rock is still chock full of finger tapping guitar solos and slapback echo and is sure to have critiques throwing around words like “maturity.”
Three Netflix stars.
Prog - The Bad Plus:
Tears for Fears, David Bowie, Burt Bacharach and Rush all get the Bad Plus treatment with varying degrees of love and irony. Oh yeah, and there are some damn fine originals here, too. Sometimes they seem to get overshadowed by the band’s playful renditions of popular rock songs. Overall, another tasty batch of accessible experimental jazz rock.
Three and 1/2 Netflix stars.
A Love Of Shared Disasters - Crippled Black Phoenix:
Crippled Black Phoenix is a UK “supergroup” featuring a revolving door of musicians from a bunch of bands I don’t care about and Mogwai. They are signed to Invada Records, which is run by Geoff Barrow of Portishead. They sound like a slightly more Britpop version of Mogwai at times, with some soundscapey stuff thrown in for good measure. They sound nothing like Portishead.
Three Netflix stars.
Era Vulgaris - Queens of the Stone Age:
What happened to the bombastic rock songs with huge hairy balls? QOTSA needs to get Dave Groll back, or at least that bald dude with the goatee who beat his girlfriend. This album just seems to- *Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz… Oh, wait here’s that song they released as a single that kinda rocks, it looks like things are- *Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…
Two and 1/2 Netflix stars.
Smashing Pumpkins is a mediocre band that occasionally eclipses greatness. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen once on Zeitgeist. Billy Corgan is still a crappy singer, but he used to be a good enough song writer to pull a handful of memorable songs out of his ass each album. Now all he’s grabbing is fistfuls of shit. The Netflix rating system doesn’t let you give zero stars, so I am giving this one a shit sandwich.
In the late 90’s, I discovered two British bands, Muse and My Vitriol. Muse was an unabashed mixture of Radiohead and Queen, while My Vitriol had a more American post-rock influence. Both were poised for super stardom. Fast forward almost a decade and Muse is one of the biggest bands in the world while My Vitriol is starting to sound suspiciously like Muse. Three Netflix stars.
In 1996, Bad Religion released their first album following the departure of founding member Brett Gurewitz. The Gray Race was good, but then came the double dub of No Substance and The New America. In 2001, Gurewitz re-joined the band, along with super drummer Brooks Wackerman. After the disappointing Process of Belief, they put out two of the most kick-ass albums of their career. The Empire Strikes First and New Maps of Hell. Five Netflix stars.
The bearded wonder has come a long way from the humble home recordings of his early career. The Shepherd’s Dog continues the expanded instrumentation he began on The Woman King Ep, this time taking a decidedly world music slant. What with all the bongos on this bad boy, it’s only a matter of time before Iron & Wine is co-opted by the hippies. I can smell the patchouli already. Three Netflix stars.
Dear Chris Cornell, I didn’t think anything could suck harder than Audioslave, then I heard your new solo album. I guess you are more interested in being a “vocalist” and making money than rocking people’s balls off like you used to. Do everyone a favor and give Kim Thayil a call and get Soundgarden back together. Write a new album and NO MORE MICHAEL JACKSON! Two Netflix stars.
The songs on this double disc are every bit as good as anything on Elliot Smith or Either/Or and way better than most of the posthumous From A Basement On A Hill. These songs predate girlfriend Jennifer Chiba, inspiration behind crappy, late-era Weezer and thought by many to have been a contributing factor to Smith’s “suicide.” Oh, why couldn’t it have been Rivers? Four Netflix stars.
Dear Slash, I want so hard to like Velvet Revolver, but I just can’t. It is missing something. Possibly a soul. I’m glad to see you and Duff and Matt having some success, but do us all a favor; if Axl calls, answer the goddamn phone! Don’t write any new songs, just go on tour! Two Netflix stars.
