Being beautiful
and popular—still
a helpful combo

stant flourishes enhance, rather than obscure, the disc’s plentiful catchy bits, giving Person Pitch a resonant, off-kilter charm. SHANNON ZIMMERMAN

 

Panther
Secret Lawns
ITUNES MYSPACE
Quirky one-man band will
relentlessly bug out just ⁴ U
Apparently the “irony is a
dead scene” directive never
reached Charlie Salas-Humara:
As Panther, he postures and
falsettos over unsophisticated
beats and bloops, with brief
moments of sincerity giving
way to flippant weirdness
or cacophony. Which isn’t to
say he’s no fun: At its most
accessible, Secret Lawns chan-
nels Beck channeling Prince
and turns that familiar hissing
high-hat sound into the only
beat that matters. It takes
patience to wade through the
pointless messiness to dig out
the electro-freak gems, but the
wiggy reward is mostly worth
the effort. JOSH MODELL

lacing gloomy folk-rock melodies with messages of hope, and mostly succeeds, thanks to the raw charisma of Phillips’ hangover vocals. His charming imitations of T. Rex’s woozy glam pop, as on “Raise the Spirit,” could spur Marc Bolan to bolt from the grave and join in. JON YOUNG

 

The Photo Atlas
No, Not Me, Never ⁵
ITUNES MYSPACE
Danger, there’s a fire in the
disco! In Denver!
These dance-punks exude At
the Drive-In’s blistering inten-
sity, ¡Forward, Russia!’s wiry
delivery, and Bloc Party’s rhyth-
mic pulse (“Cutback” could even
serve as a comedown from the
last’s “Little Thoughts”). While
it’s never wholly apparent what
Alan Andre ws is going on about
in his wordy vignettes (though
most touch on drinking, danc-
ing, chemical dependence, or
paranoia), it doesn’t matter
when each nervously aggres-
sive track, filled with both chim-
ing and fuzzy guitar, reaches a
blissful frenzy. JULIA SIMON

Heltah Skeltah, is generally vulgar, violent, and a bit of a bully. Yet “Mess You Made,” the best song from his sophomore solo album, is a self-deprecating, blue-collar testimonial in which he admits to working construction and eschewing the after-party scene for less glamorous activities (“The brokest rapper you know /Sell crack after the show,” he spits). That roguish charm com-pensates for occasional clumsy punch lines and underwhelming soul-sample-heavy production. THOMAS GOLIANOPOULOS

Sister City
Dixie chicks recast as New York originals
The Pierces
Thirteen Tales of Love
and Revenge
ITUNES MYSPACE

The Pierces are Alabama-born sisters Catherine and Allison, who moved to New York City when their dream of becoming ballerinas didn’t pan out. At first, music didn’t look like it would yield much, either: Despite the siblings’ good looks and helpful connections (Catherine has been romantically involved with Albert Hammond Jr.), the first two Pierces albums—both humdrum folk-pop affairs that made Michelle Branch sound daring—went nowhere.

still dominate, but here they’re liberally decorated with the detritus of the Lower East Side surroundings: gypsy-punk strings, dance-rock grooves, hip-hop beats. Seemingly terrible ideas somehow succeed: “Lies” remakes Gwen Stefani’s “Rich Girl” as an antifolk shuffle; “Boring” is bar-band electroclash; “Lights On” layers new-

Pharoahe Monch
Desire
ITUNES MYSPACE
As fiery as ever, veteran rapper
returns in full, flawless voice
Pharoahe Monch is one rapper
who shouldn’t stop singing.
His vocals on “Push” and “So
Good” are so effective that
they almost threaten to over-
shadow his powerful rhymes.
Still, on his first album in eight
years, the Queens-born MC
demonstrates why his rap-
ping is nearly unparalleled in
diction, creativity (“When the
Gun Draws,” a memoir from
a bullet’s point of view), and
storytelling (the visual, tragic
narrative of “The Trilogy”).
Unfortunately, the conspiracy
theories he espouses—the KKK
profits from sample clearance,
who knew?—are best left unex-
plored. THOMAS GOLIANOPOULOS

Sean Price
Jesus Price Supastar
ITUNES MYSPACE
New York rapper balances
jerkiness and humility
Sean Price, formerly Ruck of
the mid-’90s Brooklyn duo

Punk TV
Punk TV ⁵
ITUNES
Russian trio gives synth pop
a resounding jolt
An electronics whiz, a bassist,
and a drummer, all from
Siberia, open up their debut
album with a cute, curvy indie-
pop tune about being on tour—
but quickly they unveil a
surprising array of dance beats,
expert pacing, killer sonic kicks,
and rich atmospherics.
Invoking vintage European
film sound-tracks, American
rock classics, and ’90s U. K.
pop, the album is
exhilaratingly integrated,
avoiding the usual gauche
mis-alliances of rock, disco,
and techno. JAMES HUNTER

They alternate hip,
caustic banter and
raw desperation.
wave keyboards over
country twang.

FROM LEFT: STEVE BIRNBAUM; DENISE SIEGEL

Yet Thirteen Tales of Love and Revenge unveils a new and vastly improved sister act, one that should earn the Pierces a place alongside fellow Big Apple eccentrics like Nellie McKay and Regina Spektor. Strummed acoustic guitars and pretty vocal harmonies

This stylistic schizophrenia perfectly suits the Pierces’ songs, which alternate caustic hipster banter with unguarded vulnerability. For example, in “Kill! Kill! Kill!” you expect B-movie bravado, but get raw desperation instead: “It’s killing me that I’m still in love with you,” Catherine admits. It’s just one more surprise on a record full of them. MIKAEL WOOD

Grant-Lee Phillips: Only he still thinks the Pixies cover was a good idea.

Grant-Lee Phillips
Strangelet ⁵
ITUNES MYSPACE
Gilmore Girls troubadour still
searching for silver linings
While his recent album of ’80s
covers was a strangely tepid
affair, singer/songwriter Grant-
Lee Phillips rarely disappoints
with his own introspective
material. The gripping
Strangelet strives for a tricky
balance of darkness and light,