February 17-23, 2005

music

cdreviews

The Chris Stamey Experience
A Question of Temperature (Yep Roc)

Last year, Chris Stamey released his first album in ages, Travels in the South, an overly polished effort that betrayed just what a studio-bound perfectionist the man who had mastered jigsaw-jagged pop with the dB's had become. Thank God for Yo La Tengo, who never met a muffled note they couldn't handle with savoir faire. Stamey, YLT and friends spent a weekend last August in a Hoboken studio, and emerged with this wonderfully motley bunch of odds, sods and protest-minded covers. They lunge into The Yardbirds' "Shapes of Things" and Cream's "Politician" (a song I thought only I still loved) like the coolest garage band on your block. Even better are the mellow take on Television's "Venus" and the raucous soul-jazz standard "Compared to What" ("The president, he's got his war / Folks don't know just what it's for"). Elsewhere, Stamey offers goofy guitar workouts, two variations on his '77 single "The Summer Sun," and an appealing 10-minute story-song "McCauley Street (Let's Go Downtown)" with the requisite Ira Kaplan six-string spaz out. But it's Stamey's show, really; he sounds so loose and relaxed that the rumored dB's reunion is starting to sound like another really great vacation idea for the guy. --Michael Pelusi

… And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead
Worlds Apart (Interscope)

The Texas noisemakers in Trail of Dead have incorporated ancient history and archeology into album art and song titles since their Merge days, but their fourth record (and second under a plum Interscope deal) is the first time that aesthetic becomes invasive upon the music itself. "Ode to Isis," the dramatic, swelling orchestral/choral prelude to Worlds Apart, could be the soundtrack to the sprawling knights-in-armor war scene depicted on the cover. It doesn't, however, work as an intro to what otherwise amounts to a solid art-punk record. Similar ornate flourishes detract throughout: high pitched B-movie screams inserted at random, fake applause, childish laughter. "Will You Smile Again" is steeped in lyrical uncertainty ("Who bade you stop this living art?/ Have you forgotten just what you are?" are questions this album may put on the lips of longtime fans), but confident in its structure. Fervent guitar and bass riffs bounce back and forth, driving across howling vocals and multilayered sections — including a muted trumpet bridge — before closing with a bombastic drum crescendo. This is the kind of epic sound Trail of Dead should focus on, not one littered with extraneous noises and throwaway clips. --John Vettese

Steve Porter
Homegrown (FDS Recordings)

He calls it "Porterhouse." The debut album from Boston's progressive house superstar pumps and glides blissfully through rich, chunky basslines, resonating pianos, guitars and entrancing 4/4 rhythms — something like new age music driven by a disco-house beat. All 14 tracks are exquisitely mixed into one melodic, party-rockin' joyride. Once a New England rave DJ, Porter obviously can't resist forking over a hodgepodge of club-storming anthems and swirling, soundtracky melodies — but thankfully he does it without the cheesy breakdowns and build-ups. Homegrown is heady, heart-tugging and utterly DJ friendly. Garnering support from the likes of Sasha, Chris Fortier and Felix Da Housecat, Porter has already become a key figure in the next generation of chart-topping progressive house DJs. --Sean O'Neal

They Might Be Giants
Here Come the ABCs (Disney Sound)

Almost 20 years ago, John Linnell and John Flansburgh urged us to "Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head." With Here Come the ABCs, they've finally taken their own advice.

This is the Johns' second collection of kids' songs, and considering the limitations of the topic (there are only 26 letters), the variety is startling. Who would expect that the three-note theme of "The Vowel Family" could be as haunting as anything on Pet Sounds? Or that "Who Put the Alphabet in Alphabetical Order?" would harken CBGB-era punk? Or "Alphabet Lost and Found" disco throb? And of course, there's plenty of word play ("Elemeno is four letters, not one!") and science-geek rock ("Most with cones for seeds, most with needles for leaves, C is for conifers my kind of trees."). All of which is a supreme relief, as most of what passes for kids' music is as creative as a la-la-lobotomy.

Giants fans will buy this album anyway and listen to it in secret. And really, it's not terribly different from their "adult" albums. This is, after all, the band who told us that "the sun is a mass of incandescent gas" back in 1994. But if you have access to children under five years of age, you'll want to pick up the accompanying DVD. For one thing, you'll get to see the Johns reinvented as sock puppets, who act as emcees and, at times, performers. (Flansy's the one with the glasses.) And the minivideos are just as brilliantly weird as their accompanying songs. Using a freaky blend of visual styles, the result is like Sesame Street meets Heavy Metal: The Movie. G is for Giants, and that's good enough for me. --Duane Swierczynski

-- Respond to this article in our Forums -- click to jump there