Already behind one of the freakiest techno-punk numbers to arrive in the past couple years with “Are You The One”, Aussie electro pop masters The Presets pull off another dance floor monster filled with gnarly twists and turns and an anthemic, Armageddon-like crush on latest single, “My People”
“I’m here with all my people/…So let me hear you scream if you’re with me,” the demented hook chants, as razor-sharp industrial blasts bellow from the bowels of Hell. It’s the type of record that would seem to be best enjoyed by wearing leather and chains (or during a Hot Topic shopping spree), it’s beastly digital crunch emblazoned with a wooing intensity that demands you join whatever cult it’s supporting.
Darkly enchanting, with a clubby backbone that’s deliriously entertaining, “My People”‘s throbbing S&M ferociousness sends you to an underworld rave you won’t ever want to leave.
The pendulum hasn’t swung far enough for boy bands to be popular again, but Texan/ Californian-bred quartet NLT could signal an early revival of the teen-pop form if they continue to deliver well-crafted tunes like “She Said, I Said”.
A familiar retread of the puppy-dog sensitivity and R&B-lite vocal display we got plenty of in the late ’90′s, “She Said…” won’t necessarily blow your mind; but there’s a certain magnetic charm in their Timber-fake falsettos and the sublime wooziness of Timbaland’s polished production work that slowly embeds the record in your skull until your humming along to the conversational chorus.
A bit harsher than your typical “I’ll walk across the ocean to be with you” boy band fodder, “She Said, I Said” finds the men itching to break out of a relationship that, at least in their eyes, isn’t working anymore. They start off trying to be all sweet and careful with their words (“I just feel that we are in the same room/ But living two worlds apart”); but when confronted with grating, teary-eyed pleas for them to stay, they can’t help but unleash some long-kept-hidden honesty: “Every time I look at you/ I see more reasons to leave you.” Damn. Don’t look like a quick reconciliation is in the cards, does it?
Though he’s known for outlandish beat gimmicks, Timbaland keeps things basic for the most part. He narrates a bit on the hook, but there is no cooing babies, tribal chants or Godzilla growls in the mix to catch your ears off guard. Still, it’s midtempo sway is mesmerizing and it gives the young men of NLT enough breathing room as vocalists to not have to fight against a far superior production.
NLT aren’t quite original enough here to be selling massive amounts of units in a single week as ‘Nsync and Backstreet did in their heyday, but the guilty pleasure likability of “She Said, I Said” could definitely garner them some brief, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them LFO-”Summer Girls” type of love.
Capping all the MJ hysteria bubbling to the surface this past year, Rhymefest and beatsmith extraordinaire Mark Ronson hooked up with a handful of noteworthy artists and to-be-heralded producers for the classic mixtape album: Man In The Mirror. Set up as a dedication to the King of Pop with Rhymefest and friends rhyming over amazingly chopped up takes of classic Mike joints, don’t be fooled into thinking this collection is corny because it’s sure to be one of the most talked about and overtly hailed “albums” of the first quarter (the hilariously spliced “conversations” between ‘Fest and MJ, alone, justify this as a must-hear!!), while giving the ridiculously under-respected Rhymefest the public boost he needs for his highly anticipated, forthcoming sophomore album, El Che.
Think I’m suffering from the “UK Press Over-Hype Syndrome”? Peep just a few of Man In The Mirror‘s many great highlights:
“No Sunshine” – Over a stirring soul loop of young Michael’s “Ain’t No Sunshine” remake, Rhyme spits on the downside that arises when you’ve achieved the fame you spent an entire life seeking. “You ever wanted something so bad ’til you got it/ And it loses all the magic and it just don’t feel exotic?”, ‘Fest queries, the emotion-heavy ferocity in his voice dictating that this is an experience he understands first hand. Finally grasping the spotlight ends with the unearthing of an unforeseen monster hidden inside him, directing his life into a downward spiral lit up with murder (at least in the poetry sense) and greed, with Mike’s fiery wailing illustrating Rhyme’s descent into madness.
“Foolin’ Around” – On a far lighter note, this number takes a playful look at infidelity. Based on a sample of The Jackson 5′s “Don’t Let Your Baby Catch You” from 1972′s Lookin’ Through The Windows, Rhymefest cleverly excuses his cheating ways (“I was blessed with a brain and a dick, that’s fine/ Only got enough blood to use one at a time”), shrugging it off as part of man’s nature (“If he don’t cheat/ He must be gayer than the ‘Kids in the Hall’”) as he dishes out men’s many tricks to keep their affairs hidden. For him, he chooses to conceal the phone numbers of his other women under the guise of “male buddies”; though, he quickly realizes that that idea is hardly fool-proof when his main lady uncovers a criminalizing piece of evidence (“What the hell is these?/ Cause they ain’t Timothy’s panties”).
“Breakadawn” – This one utilizes the dreamy “I Can’t Help It”-swiping sonics of De La Soul’s “Break a Dawn”. Here, Rhyme and featured guest Alpha reflect on Jackson’s super success and the impact he left on their lives (“I remember watching ‘Moonwalker’ so many times/ To get the ‘Smooth Criminal’ lean I broke the rewind”) while the silky voice of “Stop Me” singer Daniel Merriweather takes a brief stab at the moonlit Off The Wall midtempo.
Won over yet? If not, you have no soul. For the rest, pick up the crazy-hot mixtape here via one of my new favorite blogs, Critical Acclaim. While you’re doing that, I’m going to put on my old Thriller jacket and sit through my umpteenth viewing of “Moonwalker” so I can practice my own interpretation of the “‘Smooth Criminal’ lean”.
You know you’ve got a hit when everyone is creating their own bootlegs just to get their voice plastered on the track. Following in the footsteps of Kanye West, Lil’ Kim, and Cassidy is the shamefully overlooked R&B singer Raheem DeVaughn, trying to put his own spin on Alicia Keys’ “No One”.
The track remains the same for the most part as DeVaughn simply turns the Grammy-nominated chart topper into a full-blown unisex duet, matching Alicia’s upper register strains with his own throat-stretching belts. If you’re sick of the original already (or feel that the stellar Junior Reid remix can’t be topped), you won’t have much use for this tardy revamp, but it’s a nice one nonetheless.
Like Ronald Isley a decade before, Charlie Wilson has managed to break from just being a hip hop-cherished, old-school R&B icon and actually forge a second wave of success with new material co-signed by the contemporary artists that brought him back to radio through samples and blatant style-biting. Two years after scoring a Top 20 R&B hit with the pimp-smooth “Charlie, Last Name Wilson”, the Gap Band frontman returns to drop a new bomb, this time with the always animated T-Pain riding shotgun.
His full-bodied soul wail still in the same great shape it was back when “Outstanding” was a fresh jam (and he could wear leather cowboy gear without irony), Wilson uses his voice to help ground “Supa Sexy”‘s weightless, ADD-inflected futuro-R&B flutter. The title hints that this could be an embarrassing youth-targeted misfire, but the opposite occurs, with Wilson remaining an age-aware class act through and through as he lovingly tags the great lady in his life his own personal superhero.
R&B jester T-Pain adds his signature comedic touch, interrupting Wilson to express how today’s men approach a lady. Of course, his efforts are loud and rude (“You remind me of my Lamborghini/ If you act right I’m-a let you burn rubber on me”) and, just for the fun of it, sprinkled with proven lines of past hits (“Can I get ya somethin?/ Lemme buy you a drank”), but it’s this ridiculousness that makes us love him so, even with his processed croon found on nearly every other R&B song to come out this past year; plus, it only helps re-affirm who really is the true master of macking here, as Charlie re-claims the reins and guides the track back down a less gaudy direction, telling his girl that she doesn’t “need to be in magazines” to win him over.
A bridge between generations with both ending up winners (Wilson for still sounding great, and relevant, after all these years; T-Pain for brewing up another fun production), “Supa Sexy” should satisfy older Gap Band fans and younger listeners who only know “Uncle” Charlie as that creepy old guy who sang Snoophooks.
While loud dance-punk fusions were the choice of sound with his former band Test Icicles, Devonte Hynes’ latest musical venture Lightspeed Champion dials the volume down with beautifully constructed pop tunes tenderly stroked with country and folk influences. Yeah, he looks a bit like a homeless, cracked-out will.i.am, but that barely registers much after listening to gems like “Galaxy of The Lost” or the holiday-themed downer “Another Song About Being Alone”. “Tell Me What It’s Worth” is the third pre-single from his upcoming full length, Falling Off The Lavender Bridge, which is shaping up to be a surefire indie treasure when it drops in January.
A girl-group sway, sunny guitar layers and wispy female background vocals provide a cheery backbone to the otherwise gloomy ballad which finds Hynes internalizing the hurtful criticism of others (“Am I crazy baby??/ Let’s all hope”). Though his lyrics carry a certain punk spew in images of bloody beatdowns and angry onlookers and a rush of rich Americana musicality and spiraling harmonies send the track into a state of pretty chaos towards the end, there’s a lonesome sincerity at it’s core that is never shaken, pinning down the naive confusion of being one others don’t easily understand. “Tell me what it’s worth,” he moans to the Gods above. All he wanted to do was bust his own rhymes on the corner with his guitar and it all ends with him in the center of this public brawl.
Being such an “eccentric” might leave him bruised and bloodied at the conclusion of “Tell Me What It’s Worth”, but in the grand scheme of things, his uniqueness will surely score with audiences craving something so different, yet well-sculpted.
VH1′s “100 Greatest Songs of the ’90′s” leaving you longing for the days when polished mainstream rock bands like Matchbox Twenty and Third Eye Blind were all the rage? Well, look no further than The Spill Canvas, a South Dakota emo-tinged pop/ rock outfit fronted by songwriter/ producer Nick Thomas. “All Over You”, the first single from the band’s major label full length debut, No Really, I’m Fine offers a welcome throwback to those pre-Nickelback days with it’s hooky chorus and perfectly-placed guitars.
An earnest plea to have old lover back in his arms again, “All Over You” finds Nick moaning on the sidelines while the one he longs for moves on to some hot new beau. “Yeah he’s a looker,” Thomas admits, “But I really think it’s guts that matter most”. The heart-pouring lyricism featured in the verses are familiar poetics cut straight out of the “Emo For Dummies” playbook (“I am easily make believe/ Just dress me up in what you want me to be”), but the soaring chorus gleams with the kind of pop finesse that assures many alone-in-car sing-alongs. One listen to “I gotta feel you in my arms again/ I’m all over you/ I’m not over you/ I wanna taste you one more time again”, and The Spill Canvas have instantly taken your brain hostage, trapping you within it’s toe-tapping briskness and repetitive, easy-to-relate yearn.
Like so many similar-sounding bands of the previous decade, “All Over You” doesn’t contain enough of a “wow factor” to make you care to remember the band’s name, much less go out and buy their album, (not at first, at least) but you will feel an urge to play the song over and over again, anxiously awaiting that shiny hook to invade your subconscious yet again. Look for VH1 to try with all their might to make them a household name in the ’08.
Though it failed to really set the charts on fire, Tiffany Evans‘ “Promise Ring” still ranks as one of the best guilty pleasures of ’07. Candy-coated teen R&B bliss with a Ciara-biting electro-rap bump and mature diva-to-be vocals that adults could get down with, the cutesy song was like “ABC” for the modern hip hop generation, instantly warping you back to the more innocent times when things like “promise rings” felt truly important. Alas, it wasn’t the mega-hit it should’ve been, so Evans is forced to find a new breakthrough with follow-up single, “I’m Grown”, in which she plays the ‘Rihanna’ to Bow Wow’s ‘Hova’.
Exploding out of the gate with TNT-charged drums and a nice jump-off intro from Bow that will definitely have folks deeming it “Umbrella”-like, “I’m Grown” quickly asserts itself as the new R&B jam to love. A laugh in the face of doubters who are now missing out on being acquainted with a burgeoning star (“You wonder why I’m so cold/ You could’ve been more involved, but no”), Tiff mocks those stuck “in the past like stone-washed jeans”, absolutely loving the irony that she’s now doing big things while the ones that tried to kill her spirit before stand as mere common folk in comparison.
The 15-year-old Evans is far from the grown-up she claims to be on the larger-than-life chorus, but her sturdy chops allow you to buy into the blatant exaggeration, matching the production’s intense urban swagger with a steely vocal performance no girl her age should be able to handle so well. We know teenage bullies can be harsh, but damn girl. The forceful way you emote, you would think that you’ve just escaped a dire POW sentence from some foreign land.
Easily summed up as Mary J exorcising those old demons with a “Degrassi High” perspective, this summer banger for the wintertime should give Evans the undivided attention she’s sorely overdue and further fuel the jealousy of those who never thought she’d amount to much.
You can’t get more sad or more beautiful sounding than Richard Hawley‘s grumbling baritone singing the post-break-up blues while locked within a resplendent orchestral backing. This compelling juxtaposition of the hopeful and hopeless forms the basis behind “Valentine”, a pensive Neil Diamond-esque ballad that swallows it’s depression in a sweeping, symphonic augustness.
The song starts off in a less grand manner with lonesome acoustic guitar strums supporting Hawley’s deepest fears coming to life. “I’m scared you don’t need me anymore,” he croons, his deep voice taking on further weight due to the dreaded future he now has to look forward to. Desperate to elongate their final moments, Hawley begs for her to stay one final night (“Save me from lonely hours/ There’s so many”).
Then pounding drums and a stirring string section come into play, offering cloud-like support to his somber dismissal for romantic bliss signifiers that hold no place in his life anymore. Forget the valentines, roses and even the old wine, because “it just takes me back in time/ When you left me lonely”.
At it’s essence sounding completely dis-associated with any tangible sense of time, “Valentine” lands as a simplistic stunner sure to nurse anyone dealing with a broken heart. The song should come with Kleenex attached.
So, MJ is celebrating the 25th anniversary of Thriller with a remixed re-release featuring some of the biggest names in today’s music (including Kanye West, Akon and…Fergie?!?) revamping the classic nine-track pop opus. It would be great if we got new material from the icon instead, but whatever, we’ll take what we can get.
Originally a chummy Paul McCartney duet (and arguably the weakest moment on the album) that had the two legends at odds over a shared girl, “The Girl Is Mine 2008″ etches out the Beatle altogether as producer will.i.am replaces the adult contemporary slickness with a hard-hitting mix of ’80′s hip hop boom and rock bombast (looks like the Black Eyed Pea was as much a fan of “Umbrella” as everyone else).
Always finding new ways to be annoying, Will constantly interjects Mike’s feathery praise of his #1 hottie (Boy, can the man carry one of the smoothest male voices in R&B at times!!), forcing himself into the mix with needless hype-man heaves (“She mine!/ She mine!/ She like the way I rock/ THE–WAY–I ROCK!!”) and corny raps not even the most amateur of emcees would dare commit to wax (“I call her ‘Mommy’ and she call me ‘Papa’/ I’m sorry Mike but she loves the way I rock-a”).
It all makes for a well-meaning, but slightly ridiculous and entirely inconsequential remix that doesn’t bode well for what the rest of the project might offer. Fingers crossed that Kanye triumphs on his reported re-working of “Billie Jean”, though. (UPDATE: He didn’t.)
As nice as it is to get free music, think of how much better your soul would feel if you purchased it the old-fashioned way.
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(MP3 posts are for promotional and/ or previewing purposes only; if any artist or their representation wish to have the links removed, contact me and I will happily comply!)
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