Album Reviews

Over the past few years my tastes have matured, fermented, been racked to a secondary and been allowed to bottle carbonate. That being said, I still love me some music that makes me feel like I'm riding in the back of a pickup truck with my imaginary flowing brown mane of peaceful adult rock deliciousness flipping all over the fucking place. The Hudson Branch, throughout their latest album World Kid, give me that feeling numerous timez, and they've managed to calmly transform my dark loose fitting boot cut jeans into a stone washed, ripped kneed, taut cod piece of a harness for my loins, all while I was wearing them. And I just noticed this tattered and torn leather bound book of poetry that I had no idea I was writing. DAMN I'M A SENSITIVE COOZE! At certain points throughout the...

Blockhead is, in an innocently perverted way, one of my musical benchmarks. Why is this perverted? Well, when I was discussing who Blockhead was with a friend of mine, I called him my Brooke Banner of instrumental music. Who is Brooke Banner? Well, she is the intended recipient of many an ejaculation. She's one of the main sources of masturbatory delight from right around the time I discovered internet pornography as a way to wean myself off of JC Penny's lingerie catalogs. Brooke Banner was everything I looked for in a porn star. She was fucking hot, totez DTF, and when no other thumbnail seemed worthy of exploration, she was always there to perk up my pencil. Blockhead is my Brooke Banner. Blockhead has always been what I relied on as far as what I wanted other music to inspire in me....

The other night, after spending the day listening to Straight A's, the gorgeous new album from Higgins, I sat in bed trying to fall asleep for 2 plus hours while the opening chords from Paranoid Trails bounced around and caressed the inside of my skull meat. I rolled over, looked at the clock which read 2 A.M. and giggled with delight. I just managed to spend an additional two hours with these charming and semi hairy pricks. Straight A's is the kind of album that attaches itself to your subconscious and unlike the type of tripe that often finds its way in there, it actually makes your day better, makes your man breasts more supple and your glow stick will chub up. It is a damn near perfect indie pop album. Higgins has stumbled on a sound that manages to mine the best elements of...

Imagine a few of the most amazing nights out on the town with friends and/or family. It can be at a party, a bar, a bbq, whatever, the location really doesn’t matter. What matters is the feeling you get when you think of those perfect nights, the nights where the sky looks dazzling, the air is crisp and sharp, the drinks are flowing, the conversations are perfect, the opposite sex is intriguing, the music is pitch perfect – everything is right. Now imagine if you could bottle that feeling and pull it out anytime you needed a pick me up, well that's what The Lumineers have managed to pull off with their self titled debut album. The Lumineers is about as perfect an album as you can find. It radiates life and all that is wondrous about being alive. It is truly a life affirming experience. I...

I used to think I was limited by my own imagination. Like, whatever stories I read in books or watched on television were always going to be better than anything I could ever come up with in my own pile of brainz. But I see shit. Not like I see members of my own family turning into the walking undead and having to put them down to save the rest of the people in my group or anything, but what I see isn't too far off from that I guess. Of course, what I see in my head is void of intensity without a proper soundtrack, and I'm never at a loss for amazing music to shove into my holes. This week marks the release of the latest album, Red Forest, from one of my favorite instrumental bands, If These Trees Could Talk. I discovered them the same week I discovered And So I Watch You From...

Every time I listen to Cool Nightmares by Radiation City I get chills. Not just any chills, but the kind of chills you get right before a huge concert. When the lights in the arena go down and the anticipation of some 20,000 people bubbles over into a giddy electricity that causes the hair on your body to stand up and your gut to tighten up, all while waiting for the release of the first note. Then, an explosion of adrenaline and joy lights up your face and everyone else’s for the next hour and a half. Cool Nightmares is that kind of album. It owns your soul, and when it ends, you're left a husk of a man wondering what the fuck just happened. In a lot of ways Radiation City reminds me of what it would sound like if Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band was populated by...

I've had this CD in my car stereo since the night I got it. It was the night of the Atmosphere, Blueprint, Prof and Evidence show at the Metro last August. I missed Prof's set, but I kept the disc his manager/table guy handed to me. Seriously, one of my favorite freebies I've ever pocketed. Not only is Prof one of the funniest motherfucking emcees I've ever stumbled across, the majority of these beats are fucking disgusting. The track Anamoly is one of my go to bangers, and after I fell in lust with the cinematic video game awesome I started to get a hardon for Prof's insanely hilarious vocal overdubs and conversational flow. When you finally get past the 3 minute mark and every single one of Prof's overdubs screamsings "YEAAAAAAAH" I feel like starting a fight with my steering wheel. Not...

If you knew who Saltillo was a few years ago, you know about his album Ganglion. You knew that that fucking album contained the most spectacularly morbid and fucking delicious violin and cello tone ever captured on tape. Not only was the violin and the cello gorgeous, but the track A Necessary End was one of the few songs I would listen to for weeks at a time. It's glitchy electronic framework made the violin and cello pop in a way I had never experienced before, I wanted to fucking die while listening to it. No, seriously, if I died during that song, I would consider my life a success to go out on such a fucking gorgeous plate of music. I shelved the thought of ever hearing another Saltillo album again, but then the internet, she provides. Last week I got an email from my muspy...

Everything about this fucking album is tits. It sounds exactly how the band makes me feel. As cliche as that might sound, Dirty Ghosts is this indescribably raw, erotic, pale skinned, tattooed, sweaty, leather drenched brand of modern rock that makes me want to rip the sleeves off my tshirts and make the duck face in every fucking picture. It feels like early 80's NYC but with far more comfortable tagless underwear and a smart phone. Allyson Baker is as mysterious as she is delicious, so at the risk of sounding corny, she's a fucking mysterilicious delicstery and I want to both kidnap her and respect the fucking shit out of her. Her voice has this casual intensity that forces you to want to pay attention to her when she's merely talk-singing, but when she gets growly you kind of want to...

Last time we heard from Digital Leather they had me doing my best Molly Ringwald dance while kicking in the window of a police cruiser, their latest effort Modern Problems still has me dancing with the reckless abandon of a cutter but without all the ragey adrenaline. It’s all hips and head movement with the occasional self embrace that makes my family uncomfortable, and now that it is public knowledge, kills any hope for future employment. This is in no way a bad thing. If anything it is a slightly more nuanced version of everything I came to love about Digital Leather and their snuggly dance punk. You still get the brilliant melodies, the luscious choruses and epically infectious songs wrapped up in the slight warp and drag effect that makes Digital Leather’s music seem like it...