INDIE ROCK
“Self-Propelled”
Bright Channel
Flight Approved
Denver fuzz-rock trio Bright Channel garnered glowing notices for its self-titled debut, a Steve Albini-produced quickie that emphasized the band’s shoe-gazer and drone-rock proclivities. The follow-up, recorded at a leisurely pace in the band’s own studio last year, sounds more assured, if less slickly engineered.
Guitarist Jeff Suther’s high-pitched vocals float over the dirty hum of opener “Charmour,” while the insistent cadence of “Disillusionist” spotlights a shift toward a tighter, more rocking sound. Still, the omnipresent reverb and languid, buzzing leads remain. The interplay between the overprocessed guitars and the vigorous drums is the album’s highlight, and with a band like this, that’s the way it should be.
The lyrics – when audible – are banal, but only a handful of locals can pull off this caliber of twisted sonic textures, so just sit back and let the noise wash your brain away.
– John Wenzel
SYNTH-POP
“Bring It Back”
Mates of State
Barsuk
It’s impossible to resist the shiny, eyes-wide-open pop of Mates of State, unless you’re allergic to sugary unison harmonies and simplistic keyboards.
The duo still fits the Polyvinyl Records mold regardless of its move to Barsuk, and that means this release is packed with even more cutesy witticisms and charmingly off-kilter vocals than before. Keyboardist Kori Gardner and drummer Jason Hammel, who share vocal duties, outdo themselves and are found on a bender for video-game melodies highlighted with a few nods to the ’60s.
“What It Means” features vocals that recall the Monkees circa 1966 and a jumpy piano lifted off a Turtles record. They ditch the keyboards in the short, sweet “Nature and the Wreck,” a melancholic study leading Gardner into a plain- sung, “I know we haven’t said enough/But I know I’ve never loved this much.” Saccharine, yes. Will it kill you? No.
– Ricardo Baca
HIP-HOP
“20/20”
Dilated Peoples
Capitol
The fourth album from these Los Angeles lyricists who consistently push rap boundaries is a disjointed, inconsistent effort. While “20/20” opens with a bang, the album flounders before the end.
Fans can always rely on Evidence and Rakaa to spit relevant, or at least entertaining, rhymes. But some of the music here fails to match their power – surprising from Babu, a DJ thought to be at the top of his game. After a quick shout-out to America’s “underground” marijuana culture, the Kanye West-sounding tracks “Back Again” and “You Can’t Hide, You Can’t Run” reinforce the reasons Dilated Peoples have been able to clamor their way to more than a run on college radio. Then the guest appearances unfold: Likwit Crew member Defari is gritty and engaging on his track, but the mix is uninspired. Ditto for songs featuring Talib Kweli and Capleton.
Dilated Peoples said during pre-release interviews that this album was an experiment of sorts, a collection of tracks recorded at different times. Unfortunately, that lack of strategy shows.
– Elana Ashanti Jefferson
