It’s Thanksgiving week, and a good time to do a good deed and bring in an orphan. In our case, that means reaching into the bin and showing love to some CDs that have been collecting dust for too long. Read at your own risk.
The Blood Brothers: Young Machetes (V2)
The first track is called “Set Fire To the Face On Fire,” and the lyrics start out “Fi-Ah,” Fi-Ah, Fi-Ah.”—how Beavis and Butthead of The Blood Brothers. But it gets better, depending on where you stand on the whole scream vs. sing thing. The Blood Brothers are a cross between Jane’s Addiction, The Cure, Led Zeppelin, and every screaming death-metal band you’ve ever heard. All of that makes them unique and interesting, though at times lead singer Jordan Blilie’s voice is like 100 nails on 100 chalkboards.
Riley Baugus: Long Steel Rail (Sugar Hill)
Yeeeeeeeee-haaaawwwww! If you take that toothpick out of your mouth long enough to sing along to this twang-fest, you are in for a wild ride on the Riley train. Hence the title of the record, which really does make you feel like you’re on a train barreling across the U.S. of A. It’s Americana at its finest, not only because of the songwriting, but because of Baugus’ spectacular fiddle and banjo play.
Meg & Dia: Something Real (Doghouse)
This is chick-fronted power pop with some really slick guitar work and even better songwriting. And now for the other shoe to drop. Lead vocalist Dia sings in that baby talk, fingers in mouth vocal style made famous by Vanessa Carlton, and it’s never sounded more tired. The thing is, though, you can tell she’s got the talent; she just needs to mature and use her voice more effectively for this duo to have success.
Ella Rouge: self-titled (Moby Dick)
ABBA front man Benny Andersson has son. Son grows up to play in band so as to follow in dad’s footsteps. Son has lots of dad’s musical ability. However, son listens to a bit too much Creed while growing up, therefore sabotaging the debut album for his band, Ella Rouge. It doesn’t suck, but at times is the musical equivalent of a tug of war between David Cassidy and Scott Stapp.
The Nice Boys: self-titled (Birdman)
They call this type of music glam rock, or, as their bio states, “straight-ahead-stadium-glam-rock.” More accurately, this is guitar-driven rock with very little attention to melody and songwriting. The opening track, “Teenage Nights,” is catchy enough but the rest of the ten tracks will have you asleep and snoring in about two minutes. This is one of those bands that critics love for no reason whatsoever, but this critic knows better.
Taylor Swift: self-titled (Big Machine)
Here we go again, another cute teenage girl that’s handed a guitar at an early age and learns how to sing and write songs. But this country artist has a future because somewhere in that teenage body is a pretty strong voice, and her songs are Nashville-ready. The downside is that she too has listened to too much Vanessa Carlton and Michelle Branch (see Meg & Dia review above), but the upside is that she’s already a better singer than “singer of the year” Carrie Underwood. Did you hear that, Faith Hill?
Tiga: Sexor (Turbo Recordings)
With songs like “Welcome To Planet Sexor” and “The Ballad of Sexor,” you can’t possibly take this electronic album seriously. And you’d better not, because that comic relief is the only redeeming quality. It’s like a five-year-old made up lyrics and put them to some cheesy beats on his Casio. Yes, I said Casio, and I don’t care if that dates me. Now get me off of this spaceship on planet Sexor and fly me back to Earth.
Paula DeAnda: self-titled (Arista)
Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Here is another sixteen-year-old artist with a major label release and better than average voice. But the difference between everyone else and this J-Lo-esque teen is that she has the likes of Clive Davis, Ne-Yo, Timbaland and Diane Warren on her team. That’s like me batting in a lineup with Albert Pujols, Derek Jeter and David Ortiz—no matter how many automatic outs I cost my team, we’re still going to win. Same with young Paula and her R&B/pop debut, which is like liquid sugar pouring out of your radio.
