Music
Crunk. You'll be hearing a lot about it this year - short for 'crazy drunk', this is a new production style sweeping the American r' 'n' b scene; heavy with the synthetic whines and staccato beats, producer Lil Jon has his sights set on world domination, and the main weapon in his arsenal is teen performer Ciara.
I say performer, because obviously all the woman need do is pout provocatively and attempt a sinuous drawl a la that other non-entity, blank canvas of a diva Ashanti. Unfortunately, the poor girl believes herself a songwriter, and so instead of an album packed with hit records dreamt up by teams of professionals, we're offered an overwhelmingly mediocre sound wrapped up in the usual hypocritical, 'Hear my statement of empowered femininity while I writhe around in a bikini and collaborate with accused rapists' packaging.
On that salubrious note, I better state now that the R Kelly collaboration is a black hole of a song, threatening to suck all excitement in the universe into its mind-numbingly dull arrangement. For all the big names that pepper her credits, none apart from Missy seem to offer Ciara any interesting content. Even the Ludacris track 'Oh' inspires nothing but yawns and the longing to listen to something, anything, with some hook or originality.
The only two tracks of worth here actually open the album, thankfully removing even the effort of the 'skip' control for your aural ease. 'Goodies' is obviously delicious, with the same infectious car alarm screech of Usher's 'Yeah', and a 'cookies as nookie (she's no hookie)' extended metaphor that almost makes up for the distressing cropped white sweater she dons in the video. Almost.
A collaboration with Missy Elliot could hardly go awry, and hence '1,2 Step' is understated and rather seductive (if you're spared the visual trauma of the line dance-esque jig she's promoting, that is). Yet with a guest rap from Missy that is laughably redundant, I have to wonder why one of the most innovative and exciting performers of any genre is demeaning herself with such bland fare. Next to 'Work It' or 'Get UR Freak On', any song from this collection is not fit to polish the bling or drape the fur around the neck of said genius.
As for the rest, well, they blurred into a tiresome haze of sultry whispers and repetitive beats. Suffice to say, you won't get far enough to even distinguish between the ways Ciara can beg for her man to call/take her out/ show her some 'thug style' lovin'. The promise of the debut singles don't even come close to justifying the release of such derivative, bland material.
Should come with the warning 'Taste advisory: the singles from this artist are by no means an indication of the quality of this record.'
In the mid nineties, The Smashing Pumpkins ruled the post-grunge, space rock roost, and their power-driven epic "Mellon Collie and The Infinite Sadness" remains a seminal recidivist in many a hackneyed "Top 100". They split in 2000 in the wake of a chequered later career of drugs, sex, death and insanity, each member promising solo projects and collaborations. Whereas eccentric singer and tortured soul Billy Corgan received minor acclaim with short-lived, ego-massage Zwan, drummer Jimmy Chamberlin has re-emerged at the helm of a new band, sprouting a debut album that must be heard to be believed.
It must be said that Chamberlin is an awe-inspiring drummer, whose composedly chaotic sticksmanship was the bread to Corgan's butter, but frankly, this is an album written by a drummer, and it shows. Tunes are abandoned in favour of atonal wailing, Musak organ, Even the more 'accessible' tracks like 'Lullabye to Children' and 'Life Begins Again'descend rapidly - amidst a gaudy shower of niggling fuzz and irregul ar beats - into a repetitive tangle. Even Corgan himself, who guests on 'Lokicat', cannot save the dying duck from its floundering demise. Life begins again? I'd stay in hibernation if I were you, Jimmy.
Conor Oberst, the prolific singer-songwriter behind Bright Eyes, has long been touted as a tortured lyrical genius, a Dylanesque, folk-tinged troubadour of our times. Recent albums may have received rave reviews, but this particular reviewer has found previous Bright Eyes releases to be distinctly average. His lyrical capacity may well be impressive, but the delivery has an annoying, angst-ridden quality, and his tortured ballads soon begin to grate. However, with "Digital Ash..", Oberst seems finally to have left adolescence behind.
True, there is still a liberal dose of whiny emo vocals, but this is much more mature than previous offerings. The mood is much darker, the air made heavy with threateningly sinister synths on "Devil in the Details" and persistent, muffled drums on the My Bloody Valentine influenced "Down In a Rabbit Hole". Oberst also experiments with a more electronic style, with eighties-esque reverb, electronic gurgles and synth strings sugar-coating the pill of Oberst's internal pain, without ever veering towards the ridiculous. With "Digital Ash.." Bright Eyes have produced an album that stands head and shoulders above previous efforts, and almost manages to live up to the hype.
Breed 77
Shadows
It seems Breed 77 have finally come good, with their second album already spawning two top 40 singles. This flamenco-influenced version of 'Shadows' has the potential to do much better. Fans may wonder what happened to a band seemingly gone all acoustic, but at least it's proof Spanish influences didn't die with Enrique Iglesias' pop career.
Kasabian
Cutt Off
The band on everybody's lips. Unique, granted, at least compared to the general soft-rock piffle the music scene is currently spewing out. A decade too late to be seminal, 'Cutt off' is hardly inspiring. Pray the lyrics are ironic, enjoy the happy wailings, have a damned good time swaying along (alone) in your room, just don't take them seriously.
Joya
You And Me EP
Coldplay with trumpets, anyone? Didn't think so. This EP is so shamelessly uncharismatic, I would say Joya are right on track to hit the bigtime. But they're just too dull. Nice chord progessions and Del Amitriesque harmonies do little to convince you not to skip forward, in a vain search for some excitement. Without being brutal, this EP just isn't very good.
Roni Size
No More
If 1997 seems like a million years ago, listening to Roni Size's latest offering will make it seem like an eternity. While the Mercury Music Prize winning 'New Forms' was as inventive as it was successful, the Bristolean D'n'B godfather now seems more than happy just to settle for a top ten chart position. 'No More' is a tightly produced but formulaic stab at Shy-FX inspired crossover success which fails to leave any sort of lasting impression.
20th Jan 2005