Don’t get it
twisted, our
bling does not
define us.

“my roommate’s asleep” feel.
Sharp beats, though—as an
indie-pop musician, he’s one
damn fine trip-hop DJ.
KEITH HARRIS

grime to spare, along with a belief in rock’s power to rescue them from it. DAVID PEISNER

 

RTX
Western
Xterminator
AMAZON MYSPACE
Ex–Royal Trux singer sheds
her junkie scumminess
Jennifer Herrema formed the
trio R TX in 2004 after her musi-
cal and matrimonial split from
Royal Trux partner-in-grime
Neil Michael Hagerty. Western
Xterminator ventures further
from the ’90s opiate-blues
legacy of Trux, sounding more
exploratory than R TX’s debut,
Transmaniacon, even as it
embraces rawk conventions
like four-to-the-floor cowbell
(“Dude Love”), double-kick
thrash (“Knightmare & Mane”),
and hair-metal guitar. Herrema
and Co. throw the horns with-
out a whiff of irony, and if the
Ratt-like “Balls to Pass” is a nod
to the album’s title, they’re
geniuses. J. NIIMI

retro-techno dance pop, a handful of moody trip-hop lul-labies, and one gorgeous, flute-kissed torch song (“Nowhere Near”) that sounds like what Dido dreams about at night. Call it Everything About the Girl. MIKAEL WOOD

 

The View
Hats Off to the Buskers
⁵
ITUNES MYSPACE
Searching for hope—or at
least booze and chicks—in a
dead-end town
Like the Jam before them, the
Libertines were a phenomenon
in Britain that never clicked on
this side of the pond. The View
descend directly from that
pissed-off, working-class punk-
pop tradition—in fact, their
debut owes such a debt to the
Libertines, it’s tempting to
dismiss them as imitators. But
class warfare is best fought by
guys whose fingernails are still
dirty with nine-to-five grime,
and between snarling, des-
perado salvos like “Superstar
Tradesman” and hopeful
romps like “Wasted Little DJs,”
these young Scotsmen have

Wolf & Cub
Vessels ⁵
ITUNES
Relentless below-the-belt
groove from Aussie rockers
Wolf & Cub distinguish them-
selves from other canine
bands (Wolf Eyes, Wolf
Parade, Wolfmother) via a
two-drummer lineup, but
their secret weapon is what-
ever the hell bassist Thomas
Mayhew is using to mike his
cabinet. In those moments
when the bass drops out,
Wolf & Cub’s sound—a
Can–meets–Jesus and Mary
Chain collision of psych, kraut
rock, and blues—feels like
coitus interruptus; that puls-
ing, woofer-shredding thump
is the thing you crave. But in
lieu of dynamics, Mayhew’s
pull-out method keeps the
album engaging. And to con-
tinue the metaphor, it makes
softer tunes (“Hammond” and
“Vultures, part 2, section 2”)
feel like afterglow.
AARON BURGESS

Mouths of the South

Too much of a G thang from Houston rap legends

FROM TOP: CLAY PATRICK MCBRIDE/COURTESY ZOMBA LABEL GROUP; BEN GOLDSTEIN/COURTESY SHOREFIRE

UGK
Underground Kingz

ITUNES MYSPACE

“Living This Life.” Over an Al Green sample, he proficiently—most likely because he’s speaking from experience—tells of an ex-con who receives dirty, accusatory looks in church.

After serving nearly four years in prison on gun charges, Pimp C, who with Bun B composes UGK, had lots to get off his chest. Well, maybe a little too much. The Texans apparently forgot one vital rule: If you’re a rapper not named Christopher Wallace, do not release a double album. And at a grueling 26 songs, Underground Kingz is no exception.

So much material, however, means more room for error. There are lifeless guest appearances (Big Daddy Kane and Kool G Rap) and repeated punch lines (“They call me Mick Jagger

Pimp C has lots to
get off his chest—
maybe too much.

Sevendust
Alpha
ITUNES MYSPACE
Atlanta noise boys say
goodbye to sensitivity
After stomping through the
late ’90s with a punishing
aggro-metal attack, Sevendust
eased off the throttle during
the past few years, even put-
ting out a live acoustic record.
It was a good move, though it
left their more dogmatic fans
hoarse from howling, “Sell-
outs!” Unfortunately, Alpha
answers the hecklers with an
uninspiring return to unre-
lenting brutality. Sevendust’s
dark, grinding riffage still
unloads a serious wallop, but
save for the dynamic “Burn,”
this single-minded assault
is so bleak, it’s suffocating.
DAVID PEISNER

 

Sure, there are flashes of brilliance. “Still Ridin’ Dirty,” which samples the ominous piano chords from Scarface’s “The Fix,” is a deliciously cold-blooded anthem on which Bun spews didactic threats like “I didn’t come to kill / But I will leave with your life.” Pimp C is almost heartrending on

because I roll a lot of stones” and “Roll like a stone like my name Mick Jagger”). UGK have more success name-dropping celebs on “The Game Belong to Me.” The chorus? “I got Bobby by the pound / Whitney by the key / DJ Screw by the gallon / Bitch, the game belong to me.” The Game wishes he’d thought that one up. THOMAS GOLIANOPOULOS

Tracey Thorn
Out of the Woods
ITUNES MYSPACE
Electro-soul singer sparkles
on overdue second album
The haunting voice of
Everything but the Girl, Tracey
Thorn hasn’t made a solo
album since 1982. So you can’t
really blame her for failing to
stay with a single style on Out
of the Woods, which features
a folky acoustic ballad, some

The Last Town
Chorus’ Megan
Hickey: Steely
eyes, steel guitar

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