The h Jukebox

The Black Keys
Attack and Release
April 2008
When originally announced, this album was set to be a collaboration with Ike Turner and Danger Mouse. Ike died but Mr. Mouse didn’t. Such are the tender teasings of life. The last two Keys albums were great but I’d be hard pressed to tell you which songs came off which album; they both snatched fruit from the same garden. But on this new offering, a different garden has been found, one watered by the clever meddlings of producer Danger Mouse. There’s some rambling midnight country, funked out snap pop lightning, raw nut crunchers, and nary a nasty pop cliché. This is most amazing, especially when played when you’re alone with a jug of whisky. At last they’ve evolved with their gut thundering bluesy rock into something that would still make Jon Spencer spend an afternoon in the toilet with some minty Vaseline.
Good For: Growing a beard, breaking things and hearts.
Bad For: Pussys.

Crystal Castles
Crystal Castles
March 2008
This gem is utterly hypnotic and magical; a swirling adventure into your computer’s nights out on the town. And that would be a Mac computer, Lord knows PCs don’t know how to have fun. This is the next evolution in high-powered computer dance rock as far as I’m concerned, so put some flowers on soulless ol’ Justice’s tombstone. But that ain’t a box I could easily put this treat into as there’s 16 tracks that continually take you down surprising alleys you might’ve dreamt of once but have sadly forgotten. You never know quite what to expect from these wunderkinds: some shoegaze, some acid Atari, some spine-shattering distorted screams from a sweaty dance basement. It’s the first LP from the Toronto based duo whom have been the subject of many passionate underground whispers for some time. They’re the go-to remixers for the likes of Bloc Party and the Klaxons, and here they show that they’re worlds beyond the aforementioned bands.
Good For: Mushrooms and Tron, Mushrooms and Atari, Mushrooms and driving alone through the desert with a broken headlight searching for the body that you buried several years ago. You forgot to get that key out of that pocket and there’s apparently some amazing things hidden in that locker.
Bad For: The L.A. Philharmonic reality show, dominoes with grand-pappy.

Gnarls Barkley
The Odd Couple
March 2008
Woo, stinky. What happened? It has been suggested that the gruesome twosome were grumpy about the wild success of “Crazy” and on this album they intentionally went the opposite direction. Dumb. Fan: “Hey, I really like you music.” Barklers: “Oh really? Let’s make it shitty then.” I can’t even make it through the first single, “Run”, much less the rest of this stinker.
Good For: A beer coaster, gathering flies, throwing at dudes who break into your house.
Bad For: Just about anything other than trying to get people to leave your party.

She and Him
Volume One
March 2008
From the moment the disarming clumsy sweetness of the first track’s magic fills your living room, you know this is something special. It’s catchy, simple, and wonderful. You just know that the whole album’s going to be good and it’ll most likely need to follow you everywhere you go for the next few weeks. Remember that art gal you used to date that was so damn cute, so damn funny, and so damn crazy? Well, she made an album about you --- luckily she doesn’t mention your name. This is a bizarre and rare, innocent and sentimental treatise on a fragile art girl’s romantic adventures. She starts off hating you for dumping her, then she’s back again to hang out, then she’s in love with you again, then she’s telling her friends about how magical your love is, then, of course she fucks it all up because she doesn’t feel like she deserves such happiness. And then, later, she wants you back again. Crazy art chicks: I love ‘em. Endearing to the last, despite all the insanity.
Here, indie troubadour wonder M. Ward has teamed with quirky movie cutie Zooey Deschanel to offer up 13 ditties of sugary sweetness that evokes what might’ve happened if Karen Carpenter had an ovary baby with Feist. And Patsy Cline gets to babysit. M. Ward was the one that talked Zooey into unleashing the velvet fury of her original tunes and is rightfully content to stand back and guide her voice with brilliant production and the slyest of doo wop meddlings with subtle violins, jangling geetars, thundering drums, and soothing back up vocals.
Good For: Believing in love again, your first camping trip with yer new girl, not feeling so bad that you don’t have a girl.
Bad For: Dudes that have it bad for old Zooey, a rash of more actresses trying to sing.

Daniel Lanois
Here is What Is
March 2008
This is an album of strange beauty and melancholy. It’s funky and old like riding through a ghost town in an old dirty convertible Cadillac, remembering what used to be and what could be. Lanois is currently in the studio with U2 producing their new album, but here he offers up his sixth solo album, a companion piece to his documentary of the same name that just premiered at SXSW. It’s a tumbleweed meandering through a year of Daniel Lanois’ raspy wizened musical ventures, interspersed with spoken word philosophical asides from him and fellow genius pal Brian Eno, who offers, “One thing I would say about your film is what would be really interesting is for people to see is how beautiful things grow out of shit.” I know it sounds like a mound of cheese written down, but when you hear this and the conversations to follow, it’s as interesting and insightful as the best of Leonard Nimoy’s Nova episodes.
The music itself has been dubbed folk noir and that seems to fit perfectly. It definitely feels like Lanois has ordered me to murder someone with an acoustic guitar that’s played some sappy music for a time, not knowing how to really accomplish their true desire. In the end, I kinda feel bad about that murder because I guess everyone should have a voice. I try and make sure nobody finds out, but as could be expected, I’m always looking over my shoulder when Damien Rice comes to town looking for his missing shadow writer.
Good For: Feeling old and wrinkly and able to appreciate the mature stuff the right way, burning down adult easy listening radio stations with a Leonard Cohen assist.
Bad For: Disco Knights concert covers, cleaning porno booths.

Atlas Sound
Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel
February 2008
‘Twas the time of Bradford Cox’s 16th year that he spent the summer in a children’s hospital wading through multiple surgeries on his chest and back. Cox went on to front the avant-garde rock team Deerhunter, but it is here that he unleashes his personal demons. The memories of his doom-ridden hospital days haunt this album, but never does it seem glum, only enlightening and fanciful in its ambient space dream pop that might make the walls of your house wiggle.
Good For: Falling asleep to, waking up to, making your dreams better. Bar Sinister after parties.
Bad For: Bar Sinister amp up pre-parties, boxing matches, tank music.

The Oscillation
Out of Phase
March 2008 (Import)
This is psychedelic and ethereal and experimental in the best of ways. It is thick and full and groovin’ and thumpin’, with distorted whispery vocals and digital tinkerings. Kinda like a dark Danny Boyle acid trip. I don’t want to ruin the surprise, so open the present yourself. No peaking.
Good For: I’m not saying.
Bad For: I’m not talking about that either.

Be Your Own Pet
Get Awkward
March 2008
Be Your Own Pet’s sophomore release is a slow-building, elegiac concept album laced with swirling string arrangements, melancholic instrumental flourishes, and heavy-handed themes. When singer Jemina Pearl yells, “I just want to run around, I just want to party down,” on the album opener “Super Soaked”, it becomes clear that this album’s going to be a challenging and topical listen replete with lyrically ambiguous songs addressing war and famine (“Food Fight!”), the human condition (“You’re A Waste”), and death (“Zombie Graveyard Party!”).
As you’ve probably figured out by now, Get Awkward is about as juvenile as it gets: snotty, rapid-fire punk songs about essentially nothing. And it’s great. Seriously. BYOP have recaptured the nihilistic and reckless abandon of punk’s most notorious fuck-ups—from the Dead Boys to the Angry Samoans and GG Allin—and made it feel real again. Jagged guitars (with a hint of new wave flavor) clash with rudimentary drums and bass to form a primitive wall of noise that propels Pearl’s gutter-snarl straight into your eardrums and, although it hurts, it hurts in a way that mosh pits, popped pimples, and teenage angst does. On the frantic “Heart Throb”, Pearl struggles with her crush on another guy despite having a boyfriend. On the garage-romp of “Bitches Leave”, she gets confrontational with some girl who is apparently, a bitch. Or maybe Pearl’s being the bitch here. Whatever, it doesn’t matter, lines like “I know you’re lying that you take it in the rear/You name drop so much I wanna rip off my ears,” are pure teen-punk aggression, and it feels good to scream along with them (even if you’re not an angry, barely 20-year-old girl).
It would be a disservice to BYOP if the band’s excellent pop ballad, “You’re A Waste”, didn’t get some mention. The jangley guitar and Pearl’s girl-pop vocals showcase a band that will, once most of the members are of legal drinking age, write some excellent pop tunes. Come to think of it, BYOP’s access to booze could also have the opposite effect, but that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing either... -Bill Dvorak
Good For: Being the cool kid at a high school party, being the wallflower at a high school party.
Bad For: Parents who love their Volvos, Headmasters, and being caught jamming to when a cop pulls you over.