Category: Dance (Page 15 of 26)

The Bird & the Bee: Interpreting the Masters Vol. I: A Tribute to Daryl Hall & John Oates


RIYL: Lily Allen, The Carpenters, Muzak

It would not surprise us in the slightest if Interpreting the Masters Vol. I: A Tribute to Daryl Hall & John Oates becomes a hit with the hipsters for all the wrong reasons. They’ll get off on the “irony” of someone as cool as the Bird & the Bee covering someone as patently uncool as Daryl Hall & John Oates, despite the fact that, as the title clearly states, the band did not do this to be ironic. They don’t feel an ounce of guilt for loving Daryl Hall & John Oates, nor should they. Having said that, Inara George has no business singing Daryl Hall songs.

Bird_and_the_Bee_01

No knock on George’s voice, mind you; her airy soprano is tailor-made for the Bird & the Bee’s machine-driven synth pop. However, a soul song, even of the blue-eyed variety, will eat her alive, and that is the main problem with Interpreting the Masters – it’s too sterile, from George’s clinical delivery to Greg Kurstin’s rigid arrangements. These songs were already pretty white in their original form, but in the hands of George and Kurstin, they approach blizzard-in-Utah levels of whiteness. The ballads fare better than the up-tempo numbers, namely “One on One” and “Sara Smile,” but they would have been better served playing to their strengths and covering a like-minded act like the Pet Shop Boys instead. (Blue Note 2010)

The Bird & the Bee MySpace page
Click to buy Guiltless Pleasures Vol. I from Amazon

Gorillaz: Plastic Beach


RIYL: Blur, mid-period OMD, Saturday morning cartoons

Damon Albarn is surely still scratching his head over the fact that he had to hide behind a crudely drawn character in order to sell a million records in the US, while the humanoid version of Albarn remains a cult act, be it with Blur or the Good, the Bad & the Queen, his project with the Clash’s Paul Simonon. Give him credit, then, for not capitalizing on this loophole by turning the Gorillaz into a Hannah Montana-style media juggernaut, churning out an album, plush doll, video game and TV show every 18 months. God knows, it must have been tempting. Sell millions of records, or don’t sell millions of records? Credibility is nice, but as David Cross pointed out, those outside the industry are stingy about accepting it as collateral.

Gorillaz_04

Indeed, it’s been five years since Albarn has donned the ink and paper, and if the Gorillaz’ new album Plastic Beach is any indication, the anger that fueled 2005’s Demon Days has subsided. Unfortunately, Albarn’s energy level seems to have subsided as well. The album doesn’t shift gears much, opting for mid-tempo grooves that you’d expect from a Jack Johnson or a G. Love. “On Melancholy Hill” sounds like OMD circa The Pacific Age. This is not your older brother’s Gorillaz, though that’s not entirely a bad thing. The album may be completely lacking in bottom end – you’d have to go back 30 years to find tinnier drum tracks – but Albarn is still good for one unforgettable single, in this case the “Safety Dance”-ish “Stylo,” featuring a passionate vocal from Bobby Womack. De La Soul return to guest on the cutesy “Superfast Jellyfish,” and “To Binge,” a perky duet with Little Dragon, is one of the best pop songs Albarn’s written in years. He gets a bit carried away with the guest performers, though. Did he need Mos Def and Bobby Womack and De La Soul and Mark E. Smith and Lou Reed and Snoop Dogg and Mick Jones and Paul Simonon? (And that’s not even all of the guest performers.) Albarn ultimately minimizes his contributions to his own album.

Perhaps the most perplexing aspect about Plastic Beach is its warmth, or lack thereof. This is one cold album, and perhaps that was Albarn’s point. If so, mission accomplished, but it could come at a huge price. His band is already artificial; when the music begins to feel the same way, discontent is sure to follow. There is much to admire about Plastic Beach, but it’s also one of the most emotionless albums you’ll hear this year. (Virgin 2010)

Gorillaz MySpace page
Click to buy Plastic Beach from Amazon

Little Boots: Hands


RIYL: Annie, Kylie Minogue, The Ting Tings

You have to admire the tenacity of UK pop stars. They keep trying to crack the American market, even though most of them are met with the equivalent of a hair tousle and a cheek pinch. “Oh, you’re so cute. Keep on trying, you’ll get there.” Of course, most of them never get there, and of the few that do, many owe it to their ill-gotten celebrity status (Amy, meet drugs; Lily, meet topless photos) as much if not more than their music, but you have to think that if anyone is going to buck this trend, it’s Little Boots, the solo pseudonym for former Dead Disco member Victoria Hesketh. For starters, look at her.

Little_Boots_01

Yep, she’s gorgeous, and her debut album Hands is stuffed to the gills with perky dance song after perky dance song not unlike a certain Ms. Gaga, though there are varying degrees of quality. “New in Town” is one of those earworm-type songs that will own your soul, “Stuck on Repeat” playfully tweaks the “I Feel Love” keyboard line, and she winks knowingly to her synth-pop predecessors by tapping the Human League’s Phil Oakey for a duet on “Symmetry.” She’s not blessed with the strongest set of pipes, but then again, neither is Madonna, and her voice is at least as good as, say, Lady Gaga, Rihanna or Katie from the Ting Tings. And with a hook like the chorus to “Remedy,” vocal power is almost beside the point.

Still, the bias against UK pop in the States is a strong one – ask Robbie Williams. Hands should be a hit on both sides of the pond, but any music fan will tell you that there are lots of albums that should have been hits. Will Little Boots be one of them? Who the hell knows, but there is enough here to entertain the question. (Elektra 2010)

Little Boots MySpace page

Daniel Merriweather: Love & War


RIYL: Mark Ronson, Al Green, Elton John

It is said that late is better than never, but in an industry where timing is everything, the decision to push Love & War, the solo debut of Australian soul singer Daniel Merriweather – it is actually his second album; his first one remains unreleased – to 2010 is a curious one. If memory serves, the first word to come out about the album dropped in late 2007, presumably to take advantage of the buzz surrounding Merriweather’s performance of the Smiths’ “Stop Me if You Think You’ve Heard This One Before” on Mark Ronson’s album Version, released earlier that year. So what gives?

Our best guess: too many ballads. Love & War sounds exactly like you would expect a Mark Ronson-produced Daniel Merriweather album to sound. The arrangements are vintage soul and cutting-edge recording techniques at the same time, and Merriweather, who sounds like a soulful version of UB40’s Ali Campbell, emotes the ever-loving daylights out of these songs. The results are consistently pleasant and occasionally stunning, notably the horn-drenched “Change,” the Al Green-ish “Getting Out,” and the “California Dreamin'”-cribbing “Could You.” Give Merriweather credit for aiming high – the opening track “For Your Money” sports half a dozen key changes – but a few more shifts in tempo would have worked wonders. (J Records 2010)

Daniel Merriweather MySpace page
Click to buy Love & War from Amazon

BT: These Hopeful Machines


RIYL: Chicane, Paul Oakenfold, machine gun edits

BT’s 2003 album Emotional Technology is still arguably the most overproduced album in music history, which is saying something given the huge advancements in overproduction in the last few years. Indeed, it appears that Mr. Transeau himself knows that he went too far on Emotional Technology, because his next album, 2006’s This Binary Universe, consisted largely of ambient orchestral music, with not a single vocal to be found. Now seven years removed from his last pop album, BT finally gets back on the horse and, BT being BT, he goes whole hog, though in a slightly different way. Where Emotional Technology contained bushels of those trademark stutter edits, These Hopeful Machines contains boatloads of music. Two albums’ worth, in fact, with nary a track under five minutes…and six songs over ten minutes. Uh oh.

BT_02

Ah, we kid. These Hopeful Machines, despite its preposterous length – wisely, it’s being sold for the price of a single disc – is a triumphant return to form from a songwriting perspective. It may take 20 minutes to play them, but “Suddenly” and “The Emergency” are two of the best tunes BT’s written in ages, the latter of which sounds like a lost track from Chicane’s (awesome) Behind the Sun album. More importantly, BT has improved dramatically as a singer; the a cappella harmonies in “The Emergency” are stunning. He’s at the point where he doesn’t need guest singers to dress up his albums, though he brings a few in anyway, notably ex-Catherine Wheel singer Rob Dickinson. And we would be remiss if we didn’t mention “Rose of Jericho,” which blends Paul Oakenfold’s “Save the Last Trance for Me” with, of all things, Hot Butter’s instrumental “Popcorn.”

The album is still way, way too long – each song could stand to be at least a minute shorter – but closing Disc 2 with an ambient cover of the Psychedelic Furs’ “The Ghost in You” eases the listener fatigue a bit. The potential for a crossover hit is clearly here; if BT would submit to having an executive producer keep him focused, there would be little stopping him. (Nettwerk 2010)

BT MySpace page
Click to buy These Hopeful Machines from Amazon

« Older posts Newer posts »