October 2013 reviews

Are you headed to a record store today to buy Reflektor? Some other good records came out this month too. (And last month, too, of course.)

The following reviews ran in the Waterloo Record.

Highly recommended: Willis Earl Beal, Darkside. I had to stop myself, when writing about such a sexy record, not to say: “Come to the Darkside!”

Recommended: Basia Bulat, Dirtbombs, Haim, Tim Hecker, Jordan Klassen, Lindi Ortega, Shad

Willis Earl Beal – Nobody Knows (XL)

This man debuted in 2012 with an album of extremely primitive home recordings, in which his stunning voice detailed a life of despair and hardship as sung into a hand-held device. On stage, he could silence large rooms with just his a cappella voice, or accompanied by a reel-to-reel tape machine. Beal may look and sing like a modern-day Sam Cooke, but he doesn’t fit any particular mould, from soul music or anywhere else. On his first proper recording, Beal—who never wanted his demos released in the first place—takes advantage of his new resources and colours in his sketches, albeit sparingly: rarely does he employ a full band, and a mournful string quartet evokes loneliness rather than sounding lush. Beal is a guy who wrote his first songs while riding his bicycle through deserted city streets at night; his music still suits those solitary, nocturne environs. No matter how you dress him up, he’s still the wallflower who fixes you with a steely glare and a commanding voice, drawing you into his slightly unstable mind. Don’t look away. (Oct. 3)

Download: “Wavering Lines,” “Coming Through” (featuring Cat Power), “Too Dry to Cry”

Blue Rodeo – In Our Nature (Warner)

In the last two years, Blue Rodeo officially welcomed long-time shadow member and guitar wizard Colin Cripps into their lineup, and released a revelatory box set covering their first five albums, each of them a classic in their own right. Their last studio album garnered their best reviews and sales in over a decade. And on top of that, Jim Cuddy put out his finest solo album to date, Skyscraper Soul. So why is this album so flat and uninspired and perhaps the dullest of their entire career? We had reason to expect so much more. (Oct. 31)

Download: “Wondering,” “When the Truth Comes Out,” “Paradise”

Basia Bulat - Tall Tall Shadow (Secret City)

The third album is key: after the surprise of the debut, after the expected letdown of the follow-up, it’s then that you really have to step up or step off. Toronto singer/songwriter (and one-woman autoharp revival society) Basia Bulat rings in Arcade Fire’s Tim Kingsbury (with accompanying engineer Mark Lawson) and sets her mind to writing the best songs of her career, and letting her voice shine against sparse backdrops—“It Can’t Be You” gives instant goosebumps, as does any other track where she strips the arrangements down to two or three instruments. “Never Let Me Go” finds her reaching for big, Celine Dion-style high notes; thankfully the Brian Eno-ish soundscape behind her is devoid of bluster. The bigger songs don’t disappoint, however, as befitting an album produced by a member of Arcade Fire; the title track is a slow build of a gospel number with a rousing payoff. (Oct. 10)

Download: “Tall Tall Shadow,” “It Can’t Be You,” “Someone”

Darkside – Psychic (Matador)

You know a band can successfully create a mood when the 11-minute opening track of their debut album whizzes by in no time. Darkside is a duo started by Nicolas Jaar, a French electronic musician, and his touring guitarist Dave Harrington. They’ve both spent time making minimal techno and jazz and experimental rock, and together they create something not unlike a 21^st-century Pink Floyd: pre-, um, Dark Side of the Moon (they deny they’re named after the album), or a collaboration between Caribou and Thom Yorke. The sound is sparse and yet huge, and for an album based on house music, it seems almost frightened of repetition; every track is constantly evolving, and the smallest guitar lick or live percussion passage can alter the entire song. When it comes to seriously sexy records of 2013, there is really no contest. The Darkside beckons. (Oct. 24)

Download: “Golden Arrow,” “Paper Trails,” “Freak Go Home”

The Dirtbombs – Ooey Gooey Chewie Ka-blooey! (In the Red)

This album has some of the stupidest songs ever written. Did the album title give it away? In this case, though, that’s a good thing. Detroit’s finest garage rock band tackle ’60s bubblegum with complete reverence, lots of fuzzy guitars and a helluva lot more funk than these songs deserve (there are two drummers here). This is the band, after all, whose last album (Party Store) brilliantly applied a garage rock aesthetic to covers of Detroit techno classics.

These aren’t covers—there are no Archies or Banana Splits classics, although one song blatantly rips off the Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations.” And so bandleader Mick Collins, a man in his 40s, is writing new songs about yummy food and girls on carousels and playing in the sunshine—and succeeding brilliantly, just as the original bubblegum songs had been calculated by older men to appeal to a teen market. Rich with vocal harmonies and slightly psychedelic effects, the Dirtbombs take this silly idea very seriously, as craftsmen of any genre should.

Most importantly, however, it’s the sound of a hot, sticky summer that never ends. (Oct. 10)

Download: “Sugar on Top,” “Hot Sour Salty Sweet,” “Jump and Shout”

Haim – Days Are Gone (Sony)

I’ve been reading about Haim in Vanity Fair and Rolling Stone months before this, their debut album, arrived. The advance buzz from the mainstream media elite—not a term I use lightly, but come on, Vanity Fair?—is completely understandable. This album sounds like a million bucks: three sisters with impeccable harmonies singing sunny California pop seeped in Fleetwood Mac and Sheryl Crow, with a bit of the ’80s (Hall & Oates, Bananarama) thrown in for good measure. One track, “The Wire,” even opens with drums cribbed directly from the Eagles’ "Heartache Tonight."

Their big-tent appeal is aimed at Millenials and their grandparents and everyone in between, therefore Haim’s sole weakness is occasional bouts of blandness. But between the solid songwriting and the occasional sonic surprise—like the ersatz dubstep of “My Song 5,” which sounds a bit like Tom Waits producing Beyoncé—Haim actually live up to the hype. Move over, Adele. Call off the Grammys right now and give most of them to Haim. (Oct. 10)

Download: “Falling,” “If I Could Change Your Mind,” “My Song 5”

Tim Hecker – Virgins (Paper Bag)

Tim Hecker does not make ambient music, although at times his heavily processed and reprocessed approach to abstract soundscaping can be soothing enough—if you’re not paying attention. For Hecker is the rare ambient artist that demands to be played at maximum volume—not simply to appreciate the enveloping, subtle layers in his music, but because, despite the lack of beats or easily identifiable musical motifs, Hecker’s music is aggressive and unsettling. To patronize it as aural wallpaper is to entirely miss the point—especially when the cover of Virgins is an image meant to emulate one of the infamous torture photos from Abu Ghraib. The music inside is often just as disturbing.

Hecker, who self-identifies as a “middle-brow brutalist,” started his career creating with sonic manipulations that seemed adrift in a digital world. On his last album, Ravedeath 1972, he employed a pipe organ to achieve a much more ominous sound than anything possible with computers alone, and ended up with the most popular album of his (albeit obscure) career; messing audibly with the real world paid artistic and commercial dividends.

Here, he uses pianos and clarinets and flutes and god knows what else—it’s often hard to tell—to create music as terrifying as The Exorcist, and as awe-inspiring as Sigur Ros at their best (they invited him to open for them at Madison Square Gardens, which must have been both an incredible and incredibly strange venue). It’s haunting, intriguing yet almost completely opaque; as Jackson Pollock was to Georgia O’Keeffe, Hecker is to his fans like Godspeed You Black Emperor and The National: similar in intent, radically different in construction. And—unlike many of his peers at this end of abstraction—nothing about this could ever be accused of being lazy, for Hecker is a maximalist, constantly mutating and transforming his sounds and composition to keep the listener on their toes.

Because Hecker refuses to give you any easy answers, engaging with his music is a two-way exchange. He only gives you half the story, if that; in doing so, he’s more than stimulated your imagination to fill in the rest. (Oct. 17)

Download: “Live Room,” “Black Refraction,” “Virginal II”

Elton John – The Diving Board (Universal)

Paul McCartney – New (Universal)

Every few years, it seems, Elton John claims he’s had an artistic rebirth and is getting back to his roots and setting aside the Disney schlock he’s been peddling for decades now. The Diving Board, the 31^st album of his career, follows up his two-piano collaboration with his formative idol, Leon Russell; producer T-Bone Burnett returns to make this equally bare bones record, made with mostly just a rhythm section.

John finished most of it in a matter of days—and then kept coming back to it and adding more. He should have left it alone. The woodshedding didn’t improve the album; the 15-track albums seems interminable—the fault solely of the perfunctory songs, because his piano playing and singing are top notch.

He opens the album by singing, “I hung out with the old folks / with the hope that I’d get wise”—this from a 66-year-old man who has said this is his “most adult album” ever. It’s nice to hear him trying, but it’s unlikely to be more than a curiosity for most fans.

Much like Elton John, Paul McCartney has spent decades lowering our expectations—offstage, anyway. And for a 71-year-old to title his new album, um, New doesn’t get anyone’s hopes up. Here, however, he sounds inspired in ways he hasn’t for years, sounding exactly the way you’d always hoped this Beatle would. It’s the kind of album precious few of his peers are still making, one with modern production that successfully references every point of his career. (Oct. 24)

Download Elton John: “Oceans Away,” “Oscar Wilde Gets Out,” “The Ballad of Blind Tom”

Download Paul McCartney: “Save Us,” “Early Days,” “New”

Jordan Klassen – Repentance (Nevado)

Ah, 2003. It was the year of Arcade Fire’s first EP and Sufjan Stevens’s Michigan album and the Dears’ No Cities Left and the Hidden Cameras’ The Smell of Our Own. Vancouver songwriter Jordan Klassen was 18 at the time, right at the age when we fall most deeply in love with the music that shapes the rest of our lives. And so it is that his first proper full-length draws heavily from those records, filled with plaintive guitar, banjo and gentle singing as well as rousing choruses, choirs of friends and decorative strings. And yes, a glockenspiel or two. While pleasant and soothing and perfectly suited to soundtrack a trailer for a quirky indie film, Repentance  also shows a strong new songwriter with an uncanny ear for melody. Don’t be surprised if this becomes a word-of-mouth favourite in the coming months; it has all the hallmarks of a quiet classic—at the very least, Klassen is the most promising new songwriter from Canada’s West Coast in far too long. (Oct. 31)

Download: “Ranchero,” “Piano Brother,” “Go To Me”

Moonface – Julia With Blue Jeans On (Paper Bag)

“There’s a pseudo-intellectual inside of me / oh, but luckily, there’s something else,” sings Moonface, a.k.a. Spencer Krug, formerly of Sunset Rubdown and Wolf Parade. Thank god.

What is that something else, exactly? “A frog with its tongue stuck to the inside of my chest / a crow that keeps banging up against the glass / a well-intentioned demon somewhere within / maybe that last one’s not so bad / maybe that last one’s the main attraction.”

Yep. Krug is a confounding figure, an acquired taste who seemed to be diving off the deep end once he retired the Sunset Rubdown band and reinvented himself as Moonface, which until now has mostly focused on experimental instrumental music. This, however, is a solo piano and vocal collection of confessional cabaret music. Even as a fair-weather fan of Krug’s, I was worried this raw approach would not suit him. I was dead wrong.

His singing is stronger than ever, his youthful yelp having mellowed into an odd but compelling croon. His piano playing is alternately delicate and strangely ham-handed; one has to assume the latter is for effect, distracting at times yet adding to the emotional heft of the performance: he’s demanding your attention. This is not piano-bar music.

Although it’s hard to tell with someone as poetic as Krug, this also sounds like a remarkably personal album about his recent move to Helsinki, and it’s to his credit as a performer that he can turn prose like this into a plausible melody: “If I am an animal I am one of the few that is self-destructive / I have chewed through my beautiful muscle / I have chewed through my beautiful narrative to get out of Canada / and into your door.” (Oct. 31)

Download: “November 2011,” “Everyone is Noah Everyone is the Ark,” “Julia With the Blue Jeans On”

Lindi Ortega – Tin Star (Last Gang)

There are lots of good country singers; precious few great ones. Toronto-to-Tennessee transplant Lindi Ortega is, simply, one of the best. She’s a hollering heartbreaker who sounds schooled in gospel and loves vintage Johnny Cash, and now has some Nashville cats to colour in her noir-ish balladry and occasional shitkicker. If you’re already hip to Ortega, there’s not much new on her third album: just 11 more reasons to be floored by her voice, one that would make Dolly Parton proud. (Oct. 10)

Download: “Gypsy Child,” “Tin Star,” “All These Cats”

Shad – Flying Colours (Black Box)

If anyone tries to knock Shad, they usually complain that he’s too nice. After all, who doesn’t love Shad? Born to Kenyan/Rwandan parents, raised in London, Ont., educated in Kitchener-Waterloo, and now calling Vancouver home, he’s dropped three albums full of intricate but clear wordplay, rocked stages with his winning charisma, and acted as a rap ambassador as a clean-cut, conscious alternative to audiences who didn’t think they liked hip-hop.

That last tag obviously irks him a bit, and it’s one he addresses directly on lead single “Stylin’,” while he also makes fun of people who exoticize his background. But “Stylin’ ” is the kind of song sure to silence any critics, as he spits dense, brilliant and often hilarious lyrics, playing with his flow, while the backing track alternates between a fuzzy bass and John Bonham beat that recalls the Beastie Boys, while the chorus switches to a low-riding Dr. Dre beat with Saukrates on the hook.

He’s even better on the joyous African-tinged “Fam Jam,” a tribute to the immigrant experience in Canada, while throwing in injustice against Aboriginals and refugees, Big Oil, and how it feels “when you’re Third World born but First World formed / sometimes you feel pride / sometimes you feel torn.”

Shad’s free-association and triple-entendres are where he’s at his best, but on “He Say She Say” he takes a turn into straight-up love-gone-wrong storytelling, a tale of a Peter Pan manchild who loses his love, with a chorus that simply repeats, “I wanted to do a verse about how they worked it out, but…”

Conversely, he goes all epic on “Progress,” a song ostensibly about—what exactly?—Don McLean’s “American Pie,” the death of Biggie and Tupac, Hurricane Katrina, the history of slavery, and how “America don’t need Jesus / the future is here.” That one’s going to take some time to process.

Shad’s Achilles heel has always been his backing tracks. The production here has stepped up considerably, though it does seem to be stuck in middle gear—following the Drakeification of hip-hop in 2013, most tracks here are mid-tempo and reflective. The difference, of course, between Shad and Drake—and Shad fans usually posit him as the anti-Drake, something he admits on “Long Jawn”—is that Shad has a helluva lot more to talk about. (Oct. 24)

Download: “Fam Jam (Fe Sum Immigrins),” “Stylin’ ” (feat. Saukrates), “He Say She Say”

Justin Timberlake – The 20/20 Experience (Sony)

It’s not 20/20 vision if you’re blind in one eye.

Earlier this year: I couldn’t believe how good the new Justin Timberlake was. This month, I can’t believe how hideous the new Justin Timberlake is.

Ostensibly the second half of an album with the same name he released back in March, this companion piece has none of the swagger, soul or the magic that made the earlier installment one of the most joyous pop pleasures of 2013. Never mind that he borrows a slogan from anti-rape campaigns (“Take Back the Night”) and sets it to a seduction number, one that recalls late-period Lionel Richie, of all things. Ignore the lame Jay Z rap on “Murder,” in which he attacks Yoko Ono, of all people (“the pussy that broke up the Beatles”—really, that misogynist myth still exists?).

Granted, both albums are guilty of unintentionally hilarious, unsexy lyrics (“I got you saying Jesus so much it’s like we’re laying in the manger”), but the music here is half-baked, tracks that obviously didn’t meet a quality control that was intact last time. Worse, he ventures into guitar territory on “Drink You Away” and “Only When I Walk Away,” a sonic suit that’s particularly ill-fitting on an otherwise well-dressed man.

If he hadn’t set his own bar so high, none of this would matter. But everything about this looks like a cheap cash grab from an artist who’s worked hard to finally earn our respect. (Oct. 10)

Dirtbombs live

The Dirtbombs
Horseshoe Tavern, Toronto, July 15

Hypnotic Brass Ensemble/ DPT
The Great Hall, Toronto, July 7

Rock’n’roll and techno do not mix. On a good day, they’re sworn enemies. Which is why I was more than surprised to find myself at two shows in the past week where live rock bands attempted to emulate and/or interpret techno hits. The Dirtbombs, a garage rock band from Detroit paying homage to that city’s pioneering techno scene, were decidedly brilliant. Toronto ensemble DPT, an acronym for the unsubtly named Daft Punk Tribute, were decidedly not.

DPT walk a weird line between imitation and reinvention; they got off to a somewhat promising start by ripping through some of Daft Punk’s bigger hits in a relatively faithful fashion, delivered by two keyboardists (of course), a rhythm section, electric guitarist and a three-piece horn section; the latter was whip tight and the best part of the band. But the schtick wore off quickly. Some of it wasn’t the band’s fault: the notoriously terrible sound in the Great Hall buried the drums (!) in the mix, and the wildly gesticulating electric guitarist was having way more fun on stage than anything the audience was able to hear would warrant.

What started out as somewhat interesting quickly became interminable, with the exception of a show-stealing female vocalist. (Are there any Daft Punk songs with female vocals? Not being the biggest fan, I missed that somehow.) Once the hits were through, it was all too easy for DPT to devolve into limp jams that betrayed the band’s secret life as Humber College music students. (For the benefit of non-Torontonians, Humber College is known for producing musicians who value skill over soul; some of the best musicians I know went there for a year or two and left before they became corrupted. How do you spot a Humber College band? Five-string bass guitar and a MIDI wind instrument, for starters.)

Who knows: maybe I was just bored waiting for the amazing Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, who transcend the New Orleans nature of most brass bands, bringing ’70s cinematic funk, hip-hop and arty fusion into their mix. If that’s not intriguing enough, let me describe them this way: a massive party with eight gorgeous half-naked African-American men doing magical things with their lips. Interested now?

But back to the techno. Back in the early ’90s when I was in a shitty alt-rock band, there was a band in London, Ont., that we’d often be billed with called Zuul’s Evil Disco, a third-rate Red Hot Chili Peppers rip-off with ironic disco wigs and other outlandish costumes. Somewhere underneath all the slap bass was just an excuse for Western frat kids to get too drunk to funk; I suspect DPT is the 21st-century version of that.

The Dirtbombs play ’70s garage rock, which attracts its own kind of drunken debauchery (on this night, it was the tank-top-clad douchebag picking fights at the front). But by approaching their techno covers from a genre standpoint, they breathe life into both the originals and their own sound.

Not being the biggest garage guy, I’ll confess that I hadn’t heard a note of the Dirtbombs’ music before hearing the new album, Party Store, which is a full-length tribute to Detroit’s techno history, rendered rock’n’roll style. It’s a brave move; I’m guessing most Dirtbombs fans don’t know that music at all (hence reviews like this one). Perhaps that’s why the crowd was somewhat subdued while the band dedicated the first half hour of its show to the new album, played as one continuous set—not unlike a DJ mix in the way each track segued into the next, and their sludgy, psychedelic take on Carl Craig’s “Bugs in the Bass Bin” used as a recurring theme to break up the beats.

The techno classics—including Juan Atkins’s “Cosmic Cars,” Kevin Saunderson’s “Good Life,” Derrick May’s “Strings of Life” and the landmark 1981 single by A Number of Names, “Shari Vari”—are perfectly suited to a band with two drummers, an amazing new bassist (recent recruit Chris Sutton, who joined after the recording), a guitarist (Ko Melina) who’s perfectly comfortable replicating the long sustained notes of the melodies without ever needing to embellish, and a frontman (Mick Collins) who brings his own style of baritone soul to the histrionic house divas heard on the originals. All the space of the originals is left intact even while power chords and thundering double-drum-set attacks bring the ruckus.

The rest of the set shifted gear and became considerably more frenetic: both the band’s tempos and the audience reaction, making it clear just how much of a shift the comparatively laid-back tracks from Party Store are for this band. And if I’d ever thought the Dirtbombs were interchangeable with a dozen other garage bands from the turn of the last decade, this show convinced me that they’re undoubtedly one of the best. The set ended with drummer Ben Blackwell leaping into the crowd with bass drum and floor tom in tow, the first of several trips necessary to set up his kit in the middle of the floor. Once there, the rest of the band exited the stage somewhat more conventionally, one by one, until only Blackwell was left pounding away. In the end, it’s the beat that drives the Dirtbombs. No wonder they made a techno record.

If the Dirtbombs’ audience was suitably impressed but not bowled over by their techno covers, I’d love to see how this would go down at the annual Detroit Electronic Music Festival; ideally, Collins should get the key to the city presented to him at the event for uniting two vital threads of the city’s music history.

An excellent read on Mick Collins’s commitment to the cause, proving that this whole affair is no ironic joke, is here.

March '11 reviews

In addition to this month’s reviews for the K-W Record, my take on this year’s Juno telecast ran on the Maclean’s website.

Upon reflection, the only other obviously missing Canadian music heavyweight from the past 40 years missing that night was The Tragically Hip.

Much has been made over the exclusion of any hip-hop performers from the telecast, despite the fact that Drake was hosting. True, there was really no reason for Tokyo Police Club to be there, and their slot could easily have gone to showcase Shad to a national audience—though obviously the organizers didn’t know he’d swipe Best Rap Recording from Drake’s hands. Not that the category was broadcast anyway—which is not unusual either, as the only “specialty” category given out during the telecast was the “pop” album. Drake likely didn’t perform because a) he did last year and b) that might have upped his paycheque outside the budget. If you wanted to get semantic, one could technically argue that Down With Webster are a “rap” band, as insipid as they are, and Chromeo qualifies as an “urban” performer.

Where was Kardinal Offishall, you ask, who has a new album out? He announced in 2006 that he’s boycotting the awards for their approach to hip-hop, saying he’s “not going to be the Junos’ monkey no more.”

Anyway, on to reviews:

A Hawk and a Hacksaw – Cervantine (L.M. Dupli-cation)

Everyone might be abuzz about the return of the reclusive Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum to the stage (a few select dates this spring, including one in Toronto, sold out instantly), but meanwhile, that band’s drummer, Jeremy Barnes, has been quietly making excellent records for most of the past decade, engaging in musical travels that have taken all across Europe and soaking up a wide variety of influences, especially in the Balkan region. Barnes preceded many others who followed: he helped introduce the band Beirut to the world (and also got Mangum to sing on a couple of records, although the geek squad seemed to have missed that).

Originally a drummer, Jeremy Barnes’s accordion skills are now impeccable, and his colleagues Heather Trost and Chris Hladowski bring serious chops into the band—Trost in particular can pound out the drinking tunes as well as make you weep on a ballad like "Lajtha Lassu."

If A Hawk and a Hacksaw’s last album, Delivrance, saw them fully embracing their biggest influence, the Balkans, Cervantine finds them casting a wider net: Turkish songs, Serbian brass, some of the mariachi music native to Barnes’s home of New Mexico, and some tracks that sound explicitly Indian in origin—which makes historical sense, because the Roma, or gypsies, who inform much Balkan music, originated in India centuries ago.

Whereas Barnes once felt like an interloper, adapting various traditional musics and meshing them with his own vision, he’s been diving in deep lately—and Cervantine may well be his best work. It’s high time he got his own due as a bandleader. (March 10)

Download: “Uskudar,” “Lajtha Lassu,” “At the Vultural Negru”

Kiran Ahluwalia – Aam Zameen: Common Ground (Outside)

This Toronto Punjabi singer has never been a purist, which makes her new album’s title all the more apt. She continues to adapt traditional Pakistani music with a variety of influences, but most notable this time out is her collaboration with two Tuareg bands from the Malian desert, Tinariwen and Terakaft, whose brand of electrified desert blues has been one of the most exciting sounds to emerge from Africa in years. The whole album is produced by Justin Adams, a British guitarist with decades of cross-cultural credibility, known for his work with Robert Plant, Jah Wobble, Sinead O’Connor, and for producing Tinariwen.

So it’s not surprising that when Ahluwalia and Tinariwen transplant Pakistani legend Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s signature song “Mustt Mustt” to the Saharan desert, the Muslim spiritual works magically; likewise when Ahluwalia takes on the Tuareg song “Matadjem.” She didn’t shack up in the Sahara for the entire album (which was recorded in Paris and at the RealWorld studio in Bath, U.K.), and there are still plenty of tabla and harmoniums. While the desert excursions may be highlights, Ahluwalia finds herself spreading out in all sorts of directions. (March 3)

Download: “Mustt Mustt (Extended),” “Raqba,” “Matadjem”

Beady Eyes – Different Gear, Still Speeding (Fontana North/Maple)

If we are to believe The Noel Gallagher, a man with no doubts about his own place in rock’n’roll history, there is no Oasis without The Noel Gallagher. Without The Noel Gallagher’s songs, the band is nothing, right? Listening to the others’ contributions to past Oasis albums—including those by estranged brother Liam—The Noel Gallagher got the benefit of the doubt.

Until now. Beady Eyes is Oasis without The Noel Gallagher—and it sounds better than any Oasis album of, let’s say, the last 15 years. What on earth could this mean? That The Noel Gallagher was holding his bandmates back in a fit of egomaniacal delusions for more than a decade? That this album’s producer, Steve Lillywhite, somehow convinced Liam and company to kick their own butts and improve overnight?

To put this in perspective, however, comparing Beady Eye to every Oasis album since What’s the Story Morning Glory is not setting the bar very high, to say the least. And despite his cheeky swagger, Liam Gallagher is incapable of writing lyrics more profound than: “Call me the roller/ I’ll squeeze and unfold ya.”

But to hear Liam snarl his way through the rousing “Four-Letter Word,” or command an intense honky-tonk groove with gospel back-up singers behind him on “Bring the Light,” is to gain new respect for a man who has never been considered more than his brother’s puppet.

Will Beady Eyes live up to Liam’s lyric: “I’m gonna stand the test of time/ like Beatles and Stones”? Unlikely, but by exceeding all expectations, he’s already got one major accomplishment under his belt. (March 10)

Download: “Four-Letter Word,” “Bring the Light,” “For Anyone”

Les Breastfeeders – Dans la gueule des jours (Blow the Fuse)

Montreal’s long-running francophone garage rock gang continue to carry the torch for their retro style and rave-up tunes, only this time they manage to maintain a delicate balance between raw power and modern production, helmed by two of their city’s finest guitarists, Adrian Popovich (formerly of Tricky Woo) and Joseph Donovan (formerly of the Dears). The songwriting is as cheeky as always—and accessible to anyone with even elementary French—and the only drawback is the lack of strong material for co-frontperson Suzie McLelove. (March 24)

Download: “Le monde tourne autour de toi,” “Ne perds pas la tete (Marie-Antoinette),” “La fille dans la vitrine”

The Dirtbombs - Party Store (In the Red)

Here’s an idea so ridiculous it actually works.

Detroit is known as a music city with a long and storied history of legendary figures. But as the city’s economic fortunes have declined, there have really only been two musical movements it’s been known for in the past 30 years: the innovative and widely influential techno music from the ’80s and early ’90s, and the retro garage rock scene from the last decade, of which the White Stripes are the best-known export. No one would ever expect the two scenes to collide.

And yet Mick Collins, frontman for the Dirtbombs—who are, for most serious enthusiasts, one of the best-loved bands of the scene—is apparently a huge fan of his city’s techno legacy. It wasn’t surprising when he put out an album of soul covers 10 years ago, but diving in deep to a genre where guitars are verboten is a bit of a stretch. As it turns out, it’s a stretch he’s more than capable of pulling off.

It’s also absolutely thrilling to hear his raunchy and raw electric guitar substitute for synth string stabs on a techno classic like Kevin Saunderson’s “Good Life” or Derrick May’s “Strings of Life.” And while live drums and percussion are employed throughout, there’s a bit of electronic enhancement to approximate some semblance of the originals. LCD Soundsystem built a career on this concept; Collins and company decided to pay a direct debt instead.

Chances are that if you find techno repetitive and dull, these versions won’t necessarily change your mind—and a 22-minute version of Carl Craig’s “Bugs in the Bass Bin” is plodding at best, with an ersatz Eddie Hazel-style guitar solo trying to approximate the jazz piano of the original with interminable results. But more often than not, the Dirtbombs lock into a groove and take it to ecstatic heights, which was the same intention of the original composers.

Hats off to Collins for realizing the potential in this project. They should give him the key to the city for this. (March 31)

Download: “Good Life,” “Sharivari,” “Tear the Club Up”

Peter Elkas – Repeat Offender (New Scotland)

Peter Elkas is a smooth operator—you can hear it in every tiny guitar lick, piano flourish, seductive swing of the saxophone and laid-back but soulful vocal performance on Repeat Offender, a record that’s readymade to romance you.

Elkas has been a peripheral player in the last 15 years of Canadian music. His underrated teenage band Local Rabbits were shepherded by Sloan, and more recently Elkas has been part of the Joel Plaskett Emergency, while quietly releasing several solo records. Apparently Elkas was ready to retire his solo career entirely and start paying his bills by becoming a professional dog-walker—which he still does, but thankfully he decided to rally his resources and make Repeat Offender, easily the best thing he’s done since his days as a young Rabbit.

Elkas is older, wiser and laid back now, leaving rock’n’roll behind to indulge in the softer side of Springsteen and ’60s and ’70s soul music. His writing retains its signature complexity—Elkas has never settled for a mere three chords—but he’s more successful at pop songs than his previous solo work, with a few tracks here he could easily convince Al Green to cover. (March 10)

Download: “Cool Thing to Do,” “Atlas,” “Melody”

Tim Hecker – Ravedeath, 1972 (Kranky)

The pipe organ is one of the most astounding musical instruments ever invented: the first synthesizer, if you will, created to evoke the power and majesty of a higher power, meant to fill cavernous places of worship.

Tim Hecker is not a “musician” per se; he is a sculptor, an artist who moulds sounds from various sources into ambient symphonies. On this album, he uses only one source: a pipe organ he played for one day in a wooden church in Reykjavik, recorded by engineer Ben Frost (who also mixed the recent Colin Stetson album, another immersive sound piece by a fellow Montrealer).

Hecker then returned home to Montreal and deconstructed the experience, toying with the sound of the room, distorting the natural sound of the organ, adding the occasional acoustic piano sound and running everything through a series of filters that make the original source almost entirely unrecognizable: the pipe organ’s ghostliness and majesty—and perhaps most importantly, its ambiguity—actually sounds more like the voice of God than the original instrument, which in comparison sounds like the work of all-too-literally minded men. Like “real” pipe organ music, this sounds best at full volume. (Apparently he’s performed this work live with a pipe organ, though listening to this it sounds virtually impossible.)

Hecker has always explicitly explored the ephemeral and unknowable, as on his two previous high-water marks, the albums Radio Amor and An Imaginary Country. Here the connection sounds more spiritual—even before you know how and where it was made. The titles allude to some motif of musical crisis (“Hatred of Music,” “Analog Paralysis,” “Studio Suicide”), but Hecker sounds more inspired than ever, free of expectations not only from either traditionalists—which he always has—but from his own oeuvre. (March 17)

Download: “No Drums,” “The Piano Drop,” “In the Air (Part One)”

Les Jupes – Modern Myths (Head in the Sand)

Les Jupes have what it takes to be Canada’s answer to The National: led by a commanding baritone singer singing brooding anthems and atmospheric ballads, this Winnipeg group filter Joy Division and Nick Cave influences through modern in life in Montreal, where much of Modern Myths was recorded with Arcade Fire engineer Marcus Paquin. Bandleader Michael Petkau Falk was once central to the scene in Winnipeg—where he co-ordinated a Record of the Week club, featuring many of the city’s best musicians—before quitting music in 2005 and relocating to Montreal. Hence, his work here in Les Jupes sounds like a veteran performer who believes that if you’re not going to go full throttle, you shouldn’t go at all. (March 10)

Download: “One Solemn Oath,” “Someone Lit a Fire Under Kruschchev,” “How Do You Keep This All in Line?”

The Luyas – Too Beautiful To Work (Idée Fixe/Dead Oceans)

Little Scream – The Golden Record (Outside)

One has to wonder if people who grow up in Montreal are naturally weird, or if the city’s artistic reputation depends entirely on imported bohos. These two albums lend credence to the latter theory.

The Luyas are led by ex-Torontonian Jessie Stein, and features two members of Bell Orchestre; the newest member, Mathieu Charbonneau, comes from Torngat, which is another project for Luyas’ French horn player Pietro Amato. While three of the four come from an art-rock background, which is wonderfully obvious in the creative arrangements heard here, Stein used to front a grungy pop band and briefly flirted with a singer/songwriter persona. She’s a square peg in this group, to be sure, but where that contrast used to be jarring, her performance on this, the band’s second album, is much more in line with her bandmates. The more abstract the track, the better it is. Charbonneau bolsters the band’s sound considerably, Owen Pallett contributes string arrangements, and Stef Schneider remains one of the most inventive drummers in the country.

Laurel Sprengelmeyer is a visual artist and designer from Iowa who moved to Montreal for school. While there, she started performing as Little Scream, capturing the attention of Richard Reed Parry (Bell Orchestre, Arcade Fire), who co-produces and performs on her debut record, roping in many other Montreal all-stars along the way. There’s no danger of distracting from Sprengelmeyer herself, who has a lovely voice that she layers extensively over arrangements that alternate between grungy guitar, ala early PJ Harvey, and almost pastoral soundscapes. For those that remember late ’90s Toronto performer Tamara Williamson, there’s a strong resemblance here, vocally and aesthetically. Sadly, Sprengelmeyer’s songwriting isn’t as impressive as her voice; like the Luyas, she’s more intriguing when she’s far away from pop song constructs—though conversely, when she drops everything and plays an acoustic folk song, "Heron and the Fox," she’s more than capable of conventional beauty. Though Sprengelmeyer is an exciting new voice, she’s still working out kinks here. (March 31)

Download from the Luyas: “Moodslayer,” “Tiny Head,” “Spherical Mattress”

Download from Little Scream: “Heron and the Fox,” “Your Radio,” “Guyegaros”

Lykke Li – Wounded Rhymes (LL/Warner)

When she arrived on North American shores in 2008, Swedish singer Lykke Li appeared poised to be a lo-fi version of Robyn, with her unassuming, somewhat cutesy take on electro pop. Once again produced by Bjorn Yttling of Peter, Bjorn and John, here she ditches the synths and her Swedish home, relocates to L.A. and dives into ’60s pop, stark folk, and hints of psychedelia. Her previously girlish vocals have matured considerably, anchoring everything she does here. Though this sounds worlds away from her successful debut, it never sounds like she’s needlessly genre-hopping. While she may be leaving club culture behind, she never strays too far outside standard pop structures—anyone turned on to her via the Twilight soundtrack have nothing to fear here. Unfortunately, some of the lyrics—which hopefully can be chalked up to ESL—can be more than cringeworthy (“I’m your prostitute / you’re going to get some,” goes the chorus of the first single), which is the only thing stopping Wounded Rhymes from true greatness. (March 17)

Download: “Youth Knows No Pain,” “Unrequited Love,” “Jerome”

Katie Moore – Montebello (independent)

Katie Moore is the eternal bridesmaid of Montreal’s roots music scene, playing strong supporting roles for Plants and Animals, Socalled and Gonzales, while her own solo material took a back seat. Montebello should change that. Moore has always been handicapped by her own songwriting, but here she not only steps up her game, but calls in every favour possible from her many friends, and the arrangements situate her heartbreaking voice front and centre. That said, it’s the cover versions here that stand out; Moore is a fantastic interpreter, which is of course what makes her an MVP for others, and so it’s not surprising that she breathes brilliant new life into Anna McGarrigle’s beloved “Heart Like a Wheel” and David Wiffen’s “We Have Had Some Good Times.” Hopefully more people will discover this after Moore steals the show on the new Socalled album, due in May. (March 24)

Download: “Heart Like a Wheel,” “We Have Had Some Good Times,” “Wake Up Like This”

Michael Rault – Ma-Me-O (Rault Records)

The problem with most retro garage rock is that it’s made by older men. Edmonton’s Michael Rault, on the other hand, is barely past the age of 20, and so his heartfelt howls about sexual confusion and heartbreak ring all the more true, and he gets away with lines about he wants to “tease you like a mean big sister.” Plus, he’s young enough not to worry about clichés cribbed from early rock’n’roll and bubblegum records. Or, in the case of “The Times When You Were Mine,” more recent rock records—the verses bear a striking resemblance to Green Day’s “Wake Me Up When September Ends.”

Rault has the swagger and the hooks to pull this all off, complete with tinny electric guitar, trebly organ, tambourines and cardboard drums that somehow all manage to sound fantastic. Anyone who remembers the mid-’80s garage band the Gruesomes will find plenty to love here—but hopefully Rault reaches a demographic closer to his own age, because he deserves to be much more than a regional or genre sensation. (March 31)

Download: “I Don’t Need No Help Getting Down,” “She’ll Cut You Down,” “Call Me On the Phone”

R.E.M. – Collapse Into Now (Warner)

R.E.M. has been a band for 30 years now. If long-time fans accept that the band is treading water, the question is how successfully they do it: 2008’s Accelerate found them startled out of a decade-long slump, by revisiting their most raucous moments circa Life’s Rich Pageant and Green. The accompanying live album was invigorating, a sign that they were remembering the elements that once made them a great band.

Likewise, Collapse Into Now sounds retro. Sadly—unlike Accelerate, where the new songs were just as exciting as the revisited sound of past glories—the only reason this album will be remotely acceptable to casual R.E.M. fans is because it sounds like 1992’s Automatic for the People, with its mix of guitar rock and acoustic folk with plenty of mandolin and orchestral tinges. Michael Stipe is in fine voice, spending most of his time in his lower register, and not sounding strained or whiny (rare for him lately). But if you want to hear Peter Buck lay down some memorable guitar lines, check out his work on the new Decemberists album instead, which is actually a better R.E.M. record than this one. Guest appearances from Patti Smith and Peaches don’t add anything; the latter appears on “Alligator Aviator Autopilot Antimatter,” a song that’s not only silly—which is fine, as some of R.E.M.’s greatest pop moments have been when they yuk it up—but limp and dull.

Collapse Into Now sounds like R.E.M. trying too hard to be R.E.M., as if they forgot somewhere along the way. Which they may well have. (March 17)

Download: “It Happened Today,” “All the Best,” “Every Day is Yours to Win”

Rural Alberta Advantage – Departing (Paper Bag)

We’re told Alberta is all about the economy: it’s the province that doesn’t run deficits (or at least, until recently); it’s the province without a sales tax; it’s the province whose oil sands are the engine of the Canadian economy; it’s the province that sends politicians to Ottawa who are all about fiscal restraint.

The Rural Alberta Advantage is by no means a political band, but they are certainly an economical one. There is no dead weight in this trio, not a note out of place in these 10 songs delivered in 32 minutes, and there is plenty of space surrounding the succinct melodies of frontman Nils Edenloff. Departing delivers considerable improvements from the band’s promising debut, with drummer Paul Banwatt punctuating every song with propulsive, syncopated beats that set the group far apart from its influences or peers; multi-instrumentalist Amy Cole not only softens Edenloff’s nasal tenor, but her additional percussion and keyboards add subtle but extremely effective texture. Edenloff plays guitar, but never as a crutch; for an indie-rock trio, it’s to their credit that the guitar is the least important instrument here.

If there’s a flaw here, it’s that Edenloff’s voice is a bit too thin to sell the songs, and he pushes it to its limits—but then again, a more proficient belter might make this too bombastic. It would be almost too easy to transform these songs into Arcade Fire anthems, but Rural Alberta Advantage are content to carve out their own niche, making them one of the most exciting new Canadian bands at a time when we seem to be suffering from an embarrassment of riches.

And you can take that to the bank. (March 3)

Download: “North Star,” “Muscle Relaxants,” “Under the Knife,” “Barnes’ Yard”

Ron Sexsmith – Long Player, Late Bloomer (Warner)

Over his 20-year career, Ron Sexsmith has taken more hits to his ego than he’s had hits on the radio. And it’s obviously getting to him: “If you’re intent on making me feel bad, you’d best get in line,” he sings on the opening track—which is also one of his strongest songs in years.

Despite his sad sack image, Sexsmith has had plenty of success: his songs have been covered by Feist, Michael Bublé, k.d. lang and Rod Stewart. But the theme here is one of mid-career frustration, and for the first time since 2002’s Europop makeover Cobblestone Runway, Sexsmith sounds hungry and eager to step up his game: “I’m a small player with a tall order/ to come out on top.”

To do so, he hired producer Bob Rock (Metallica, The Tragically Hip), and whether Rock pushed Sexsmith to work harder or not, the songs here no longer sound like he’s coasting on the economy and craft of his earliest records: “This ain’t no random shuffle/ there’s reason in these rhymes.” Musically, there’s nothing unexpected: Sexsmith is shooting straight for the middle of the road, and Rock assembles a top-notch team of studio musicians and string sections to deliver a perfectly pleasant album that ranks with the songwriter’s best. (March 3)

Download: “Get in Line,” “Believe It When I See It,” “Heavenly”

Colin Stetson – Judges: New History of Warfare Vol. 2 (Constellation)

Andy Haas – Paradise of Ashes (Resonant)

Two saxophonists—one Canadian living in New York, one American living in Montreal—surface with solo records that toy with expectations. One tinkers with traditional pop forms, the other seeks to reinvent the saxophone itself.

Andy Haas’s main claim to fame is his stint with Martha and the Muffins in the early ’80s—that’s him on "Echo Beach" and "Danseparc"—but lately he’s been a prolific and acclaimed solo artist. Paradise of Ashes sets his recognizable timbre to work on melodic classics by Cole Porter, George Jones and, uh, Kelly Clarkson—as well as original compositions and Arabic songs—while strange and unusual electronic percussion punctuates the performance. There are plenty of drum machines here, but never used in a traditional sense; Haas’s approach to the technology is more textural, like his New York avant-garde peer Ikue Mori, than someone merely interested in beat-driven backing tracks.

While one can picture Haas standing on a street corner playing “Harlem Nocturne,” Colin Stetson is less interested in melody than he is in every acoustical property possibly found on his saxophone: the percussive clicks and clacks; the non-notatable sounds of wind moving through it; the resonance of a room; the sound of his voice amplified through the saxophone, with or without the reed in play. On this, his second solo album, he uses a variety of contact microphones to capture his compositions intimately, which can be an all-out assault or a meditative wave of arpeggios delivered through his impressive circular breathing skills. Stetson, who is a member of Bell Orchestre and performs with Laurie Anderson and Bon Iver among many others, takes what could be a gimmicky concept—this is all performed live, with no looping pedals or overdubs—and transforms it into the realm of emotionally engaging and enrapturing material. (March 3)

For Haas, download: “New Maladies of the Soul,” “Enta Omri,” “Paradise of Ashes”

For Stetson, download: “Judges,” “From No Part of Me Could I Summon a Voice,” “A Dream of Water (featuring Laurie Anderson)”

The Sway Machinery – House of Friendly Ghosts Vol. 1 (JDub)

Jeremiah Lockwood must be a very persuasive man. The New York bandleader, who has a solo career as a blues performer and also plays with East European electro hybrid Balkan Beat Box, has not only corralled some of the city’s best players into the Sway Machinery, including the Antibalas horn section, Bell Orchestre’s Colin Stetson and Sarah Neufeld, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Brian Chase, but he’s also hauled the band to Africa to play the legendary Festival in the Desert in the remote north of Mali—where he was surely the only performer there to sing in Hebrew.

Apparently the band was rapturously received, and the good will spilled into a recording session in Bamako the following week. The result, this second album by the Sway Machinery, features master Malian singer Khaira Arby, Vieux Farka Toure and some younger acts they discovered at the festival.

A good resumé doesn’t necessarily make a good record, of course. In this case, however, it does. Though obviously steeped in an eclectic stew of Malian influences, the Sway Machinery don’t sound like they’re embarking on an anthropological project. There’s more than enough of their own personality; the horn section can do pretty much anything, the drums on a track like “Youba” owe far more to Led Zeppelin’s John Bonham than African rhythms, and even when Arby takes the lead vocals, it sounds remarkably different than her own work.

The only weak links are Lockwood’s own earnest vocals and his lyrics (one example: “With my wings behind me/ cumbersome and unwieldly”—which could be a direct metaphor for his writing). Thankfully, the band behind him offers more than a few pleasant distractions at all times, and Arby steals the show whenever she takes the mic. (March 24)

Download: “Youba,” “Sourgou,” “Gawad Teriamou”

Lucinda Williams – Blessed (Lost Highway/Universal)

Blessed is the best work Lucinda Williams has done in the past decade—if only that meant something. The once-brilliant songwriter has been on autopilot for her past several albums, her voice seemingly trying to stretch out each syllable in a pseudo-seductive moan that sounds more like a final breath. Here, her band inserts pointlessly proficient guitar solos that go nowhere; though there are some fine songs here, it’s almost impossible to figure that out from these performances, with Williams sounding like she’s asleep at the wheel and her band trying to overcompensate.

One can’t wait to hear someone else cover any one of these songs; Williams sounds positively bored, even by her own, newly found contentment in her personal life—the title song is about her recent marriage to her long-time manager.

Two songs, “Seeing Black” and “Copenhagen,” are rumoured to be about the death of her friend, singer/songwriter Vic Chesnutt, which she sings with an expectedly potent mix of resignation, bitterness, anger and emptiness. Likewise, “Born To Be Loved” is an empathetic bluesy lullaby. But of those three, the one and only time her performance matches her poetry is on “Seeing Black,” where she is in a positively snarling mood, perfectly capturing the mixed emotions that accompany the suicide of a loved one. It would be a shame if only dark tragedy is capable of conjuring a fine performance out of her anymore. (March 24)

Download: “Seeing Black,” “Copenhagen,” “Born To Be Loved”