Sonic Youth (“City of Bugs”)
and the Smiths again
(“Save Your Secrets”),
while still delivering
plenty of their typical Brit-
rock momentum.
JOSH MODELL
Dead Man’s Bones Dead Man’s Bones
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Film heartthrob stages indie-rock Beetlejuice Hollywood brooder Ryan Gosling doesn’t reverse the rule that actors make dubious pop musicians (see Keanu, Jared Leto, ScarJo), but his rickety collaboration with budding thespian Zach Shields has an undeniable dark charm. At its best, the duo’s debut shambles along like a Tom Waits–led, Tim Burton–produced Halloween recital—“My Body’s a Zombie for You” and “Lose Your Soul” (both featuring the Silverlake Conservatory Children’s Choir) are particularly spooky piano forays that, thanks to elegant arrangements, don’t sag under the face-painted novelty of it all. DAVID BEVAN
Del the Funky Homosapien & Tame One Parallel Uni-Verses
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Stoner MCs hungrily look back on oddball odyssey With two decades of graffiti writing, drug consumption, and alt-rap classics under their belts, Del and Tame One have much to reminisce about. Losing themselves in a weed-induced fog of memories, Del weaves loquacious tales about going to GATE classes as a teen, while Tame One drops punch-drunk lines about “slaying the tenth grade on mushrooms.” Producer Parallel Thought supports the storytelling (and saves the duo from dissolving into navel-gazing) with sharp loops, from the arch electric guitar riff on “The Franchise” to the melancholy cool jazz of “Life Sucks.” MOSI REEVES
and Kimberly Morrison have a noted Rolling Stones/ Velvet Underground jones, but their music sounds equally connected to iconic lo-fi indie naifs Beat Happening. That said, limiting the Dutchess & the Duke’s sophomore album to such comparisons feels unfair, because its finest moments (“Let It Die,” “Sunrise/ Sunset,” and the beautifully tortured opener “Hands”)— featuring the duo’s heartaching harmonizing—capture a uniquely tender gloom amid the droning atmospherics. KENN Y HERZOG
Electric Six Kill
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Motor City horndogs are
back to trash happy hour
This Detroit band has
yet to match the goofy
disco-metal glory of 2003’s
Fire (you’ll recall “Danger!
High Voltage,” featuring
Jack White, and “Gay Bar”).
But their sixth album’s
opener, “Body Shots,” nails
it joyously, with frontman
Dick Valentine mixing his
two voices—über-confident
growl and sex-crazed falset-
to—on a cowbell-assisted
jam that crams Tenacious D, Prince, and ’80s metal into the same s weaty club. Again, E6 can’t quite keep it up throughout, though they still sound delighted to mess with sounds both full-throttle (“You’re Bored”) and loungey (“My Idea of Fun”). JOSH MODELL
Jay Farrar and Benjamin Gibbard One Fast Move or I’m Gone
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Boozy Beat memoir gets a tenderly rootsy rehab The Son Volt and Death Cab for Cutie frontmen (respectively) go spare on this tribute to Jack Kerouac’s 1962 novel Big Sur, wedding text from the chronicle of a writer’s alcoholic breakdown to simple melodies and instrumentation. Gibbard, who already wrote a terrific song inspired by Kerouac on Death Cab’s Narrow Stairs, delivers a fey yin to Farrar’s more downcast baritone twang, which means his contributions—including the best of this bunch, “Willamine”—feel lighter, even when the words aren’t. A dark lark, but worth a listen. JOSH MODELL
Flight of the Conchords I Told You I Was Freaky
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Even quality jokes wilt when they’re rehashed If you laughed when you heard these musical paro-dies on the New Zealand duo’s HBO show, you’ll probably laugh again the first time you hear them here. But like most comedy albums, this one loses its luster upon repeated hearings. Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement are uniquely talented mimics—the title track’s R. Kelly–isms are note-perfect; the faux reggae of “You Don’t Have to Be a Prostitute” recasts the Police’s “Roxanne” as the tale of a “man-ho”—but the song selection is questionable and the visuals sorely missed. DAVID PEISNER
Gary Higgins Seconds
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Lonesome folkie recluse tries to recapture magic In 1973, Connecticut longhair Gary Higgins recorded Red Hash, a gently gnomic album of post-hippie come-
down folk. A subsequent pot bust scuttled his career and sent Hash underground, where lost-gem whispers crescendoed into a 2005 reissue. Seconds, the singer-guitarist’s belated sophomore effort, may not be remembered quite so warmly. “Demons” and “Ten-Speed” show that Higgins’ amber vocals and crisp guitar skills remain, but too much here floats by on a vague cloud of coffeehouse clichés. Still, it’s encouraging that Higgins is back, shaking off the rust. DAVID MARCHESE
Daniel Johnston Is and Al ways Was
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Beloved eccentric proves immune to slick makeover Admired by Kurt Cobain and Tom Waits, troubled lo-fi troubadour Daniel Johnston has made cult-inspiring records since the early 1980s. For Is and Always Was, well-meaning producer Jason Falkner (Jellyfish, Brendan Benson) attempts to expand Johnston’s appeal, wrapping his timeless, touching lyrics and
She’s got all the ;owers she needs, thank you very much, fellas.
CALLING ALL CRAZY ex-girlfriends: If you’re gonna keep up with Florence Welch, you might need stronger meds. In the U.K., where Lungs has become 2009’s best-selling debut, this London-based siren is already infamous for “Kiss With a Fist,” a fizzy punk stiletto-stomper on which she breaks her boyfriend’s jaw and sets his bed on fire. Elsewhere, she cuts out a girl’s eye and even gobbles up some poor guy, savoring his texture and flavor like a nice pinot noir. (“The fabric of your flesh / Pure as a wedding dress,” she raves. Yum!)
Consumption is a fitting metaphor for Welch, who has never felt an emotion she couldn’t crank into the red. From the way she sings, in big gulps and Teen Wolf growls, to the mystical art-rock ballads she bedazzles with sleigh bells, harps, and choirs, there’s enough drama here for a Broadway musical. But her delivery is so raw that every mess feels genuine. On “Dog Days Are Over,” she sings so delicately about a happiness that hits you “like a train” that you feel protective. And on “Hurricane Drunk,” she arrives at a simple, heartbreaking solution to seeing an ex with someone else: “I’m going out / I’m gonna drink myself to death.” You’ve gotta hand it to the girl: She always makes you feel something— even if that “something” is suicidal. MELISSA MAERZ
FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE Lungs
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ELAINE CONS TAN TINE
76 NOVEMBER 2009 ; LOSE WEIGH T FAST WI TH SPIN.COM
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