Dum Dum Girls, I Will Be. The subject matter is almost as sweet as the melodies, which are almost as fuzzy as the photo on the cover. GOOD+

Magik Markers, Balf Quarry. The Markers inject their noise with some more backbeat and then even more swagger on their Drag City debut. Serious SY and VU vibes here. ”Here they come with their GTOs/ Their hair parted in neat white rows/ Hallway Gods in real cool clothes/ High schoolers and Haggard know what I know.” Rock n roll, rock n fuckin roll. GOOD

Puerto Rico Flowers, 2 7″. Puerto Rico Flowers, the new solo project of Clockclean Er’s John Sharkey, is a sad one. 2, PRF’s second release is pure head-shaking sorrow. “The Voice of Love” absolutely kills every single time and the b-side, a plodding cover of Neil Young’s “When Your Lonely Heart Breaks” works in much the same way. You didn’t go to prom with me. What ever happened to our date? Why is it pouring rain and what am I doing with this empty bottle of wine? And is that a…razor blade? GREAT

Steve Mason, Boys Outside. New material from Mr. Beta Band. No foolin’: you put this on around someone who knows enough of the Beta Band and this is the Beta Band. Like, “All Come Down”? Are you kidding me? So fucking fantastic and so fucking similar to the Beta Band. Beta Band Beta Band Beta Band Beta Band Beta Band. GOOD-

Warren G, Regulate…G Funk Era. So…it’s smoother than smooth you’re looking for? I just sent you ten copies. GOOD-

Smog, A River Ain’t Too Much To Love. At this point, Bill Callahan’s voice is like a blanket, or a warm fire or a cool glass of lemonade or anything that makes me more comfortable. The comfort that his voice offers does not mean that his music has lost its bite or its thrill, however. On the contrary, his music is now, all of it, more exciting to me because I am familiar with the yips and hums and drones of his voice; I know what to look for and what to wait for and what to focus on. A River Ain’t Too Much To Love rewards this sort of, you know, wordless knowledge. Callahan’s voice is way up front here while the relaxed country strums and twangs breathe in the background. The words are sung in that slow, slow what-was-he-just-saying way he’s sort of been perfecting since maybe The Doctor Came At Dawn or Knock Knock, although here everything sounds even less immediate: he’s got a point, he’s going to make it, you’re going to be floored, but just wait. “Oh the longest train I ever saw went down that Georgia Line/ The engine went by at six o’clock and the cab went by at nine” is sung so calmly and slowly that its meaning takes several seconds or several listens to show itself. But once it does, once it does, well, you’ll know the feeling. GREAT

Jacuzzi Boys, Bricks or Coconuts 7″. Three fuzzy new ones from Florida’s preeminent garage rockers. These boys really put the ”best” in “We’re trying our best!” The title track takes up all of the a-side and gets things off to a good start, sounding a little like Alex Bleeker only, you know from Florida and not Jersey, if that makes any sense. ”Freakazoids” (yeah, I know, the title could not be more awesomely garage-y) breaks out of some whining buzzes and hooks it up real quick with some almost unintelligible yelps. I can hear for sure: “Roll into the city under the stars/ The only thing we know is the night is ours/ Ours ours ours ours oursoursoursours!” GOOD-

Biz Markie, Diabolical: The Biz’s Greatest Hits. Really wanna love the Biz but all my rapper friends tell me he’s a dick in person. That’s the worst. Happened to me when I met the drummer from No Age. Sort of ruined it for me a little bit. However, because these rapper friends of mine talk a lot of shit and may have never actually met the Biz, and because he seems like the nicest dude ever, and because “Just A Friend” is so great, I’m gonna let this one slide. SUCK+

Papa M, “Whatever, Mortal”. Another masterpiece from David Pajo, “Whatever, Mortal” is the kind of album that really––well, just listen to “Krusty” and if you don’t think that it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard then just stop, back away from the computer or stereo or (year right) turntable and just stop. And then stop looking into anything else as long as you live. Yeah, like anything else. I don’t know if you know what I mean, but I mean A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G-E-L-S-E. You are done with culture. GREAT

Tony Joe White, The Best of Tony Joe White. Tony Joe White is also known as the Swamp Fox. The Swamp Fox. Fuck yes. Dude wrote “Rainy Night In Georgia”, so there’s that. But really just about every one of these twenty songs is a winner. The instrumentation is part country & western and part blue-eyed soul, all horned up and chuggin’ along. White’s voice too really spices everything up, and all of his little Southern asides (”Used to know a girl who lived down there, she’d go out in the evenings and pick a mess of it”; “He had four coons, a cat, and a hound dog, they stayed in the same house with him”; “It was true she was quite voluptuous”) do big things for the general feel. Thus the Swamp Fox was born. GOOD

Janelle Monáe, The ArchAndroid. There’s about seventy minutes total here and maybe 20 minutes of it is really solid. And when it’s solid it’s not even amazing, it’s just very good pop. The solid bits should be housed on an album with about 12 or 14 songs and not some sort of concept thing with suites and overtures and crap because, well, first of all who’s Janelle Monáe? and second of all Janelle Monáe is kind of just a more-creative-than-average black woman with a great voice. I need about 5 more tracks like “Cold War” and “Wondaland” and “Mushrooms & Roses” and about 10 less tracks like “Locked Inside” and “Dance Or Die” and “Neon Valley Street” and “Oh, Maker” and “Come Alive (War of the Roses)” and “57821″. SUCK-

Prince, Sign O The Times. It’s all kind of too much. Everything goes on about a minute or two too long. There’s about eighty minutes total here and maybe half of it is really solid. But, then, that’s the thing: when it’s solid, IT IS FUCKING SOLID. It’s amazing. I’m talking “It”, “U Got the Look”, “Sign O the Times”, “If I Was Your Girlfriend”, et al. Thing is though, you get down with this monster for long enough, it’s all solid, because none of it’s very bad. Time, time is the issue. The length-to-catchiness ratio is all too important. Janelle Monáe should’ve realized this. At least Prince has the excuse of FUCKING BEING PRINCE. GOOD-

Lonelady, Nerve Up. So I’m hearing the influences, I guess. We got our angular post-punk, our Gang of Four, our Joy Division probably, PiL obvi., Mission of Burma, some R.E.M. maybe. Mhm. This thing really checks out. It’s even pretty fun to listen to in the car on the way back from finding it used for $4. And who knows I might even put “Immaterial” on a mix for somebody or something. It is good. SUCK+

Jim O’Rourke, The Visitor. Here’s what you do. You go out and you get a whole bunch of really fresh ingredients from your favorite market or farmer’s market. When you get home open a bottle of wine and prepare a delicious dinner for yourself. Coq au vin, handmade pasta and bolognese, braised lamb shank with porcini risotto, this kind of thing. Make a flourless chocolate cake or something for dessert. Do all of this listening to The Visitor. It’ll take a few listens to finish everything up, but that’s okay. Some things are meant to be enjoyed slowly and by yourself. GOOD+

Prince & the Revolution, Purple Rain. Jesus Christ. Perfect. Theatrical and building––everything builds!––and cascading and epic. The songs are seemingly endless, and appear to be floating along in some sort of thick purple liquid substance, never getting stuck and sliding easily from one Big Idea to the next. GREAT

Tortoise, Millions Now Living Will Never Die. …so I did what anybody would do: smoked a bowl, put a CD case over the time display on my stereo so I wouldn’t be able to tell what track I was on, and put my headphones on. Lying there in the dark with my plush seafoam green throw blanket I already felt like I was underwater. Then “Djed” blew my fucking head open. GREAT

Jim O’Rourke, Tamper. Jim being droney and weird. If you think you don’t have the time, you don’t have the time. GOOD

Scout Niblett, The Calcination of Scout Niblett. Slides like hot metal. Scout Niblett moves from thick, soft guitar picking to hard-edged waves of noise effortlessly. She moves from great big philosophical announcements to realistic and specific lyrics effortlessly. It’s all very jarring and very soothing at once. Her voice, too––it’s molten hot but also cold cold cold. GOOD+

Gastr Del Sol, Camoufleur. It’s not everyday that you get to hear the phrase “for example” in a song. But then again it’s not everyday that you get to hear anything as good as Camoufleur. Unless you buy it, I mean. GOOD+

David Grubbs, The Thicket. Grubbs’s solo debut. Plucky and calm and exotic and experimental and noisy and shrieking. I don’t really know what this is; its earnest jokes sort of terrify me. GOOD

(Smog), Rain On Lens. I think of this album in terms of its two great center-piecing back-to-back tour de forces: “Dirty Pants” and “Lazy Rain.” These two songs are vastly different in just about every way; they represent very well Callahan’s song-writing abilities. “Dirty Pants” is terrifying: weird pick-axe-sound intro, first-person description of maybe the least savory character imaginable (”And so I dance in dirty pants, a drink in my hand/ No shirt, a broken tooth, barefoot and beaming…”), and then the totally unexpected but not at all unbelievable cryptic rape scene, sung in that same steady monotone: “Then I walk out to your house and let myself in/ Back you into a corner and I multiply.” “Lazy Rain,” on the other hand, is one of the sweetest songs about sex there is. Though it is also certainly sinister, Callahan’s monotone is nice-sounding and his slowwww delivery seems like a symptom of happiness (as opposed to a creep-out tactic). Also, “Lazy Rain” starts in almost exactly the same way as that other sinisterly romantic Smog masterpiece, “Strayed”: “Well it’s strange the way you walk behind but seem to lead the way” versus “Well it’s snaining outside, or is it just lazy rain?” The Well it’s is so goddamned familiar. As he gets home, at 6AM, his friend and him just cheated death, he describes his wife, sleepily watching him undress. “I slide into the bed/ Then my leg I thread/ Between hers.” Then: “We move faster toward the sill.” GOOD+

Silver Jews, Bright Flight. There is so much unbearable emotional pain in what we do up here! GREAT

Jim O’Rourke, Eureka. Don’t be thrown off by the weird canvas painting of a fat bald guy getting a blowjob from a rabbit on the cover. Er, well, do be thrown off by the weird canvas painting of a fat bald guy getting a blowjob from a rabbit on the cover. GREAT

Major Stars, Return To Form. Loud New England rawk that’s intellectual because it is. Sandra Barrett’s vox soar all over everything. And the record does that classic rock thing where no one thing is particularly catchy but the whole mess of chords and solos and fuzz renders it downright enchanting. Boston Tea Party? More like, Boston Riff Party. GOOD+

David Grubbs, The Spectrum Between. Just like a campfire: warm, familiar, and dangerous. GREAT

Bonnie “Prince” Billy & the Cairo Gang, The Wonder Show Of the World. Yeah, this one’s got that awesome Oldham Buzz, alright. You know, that breathy, trilling hum created by the gently/roughly strummed acoustic guitar, Oldham’s wet, thick, whiney voice and, oh, I don’t know, like a pile of Steve Albini’s dirty socks next to one of the microphones. AND JESUS H. CHRIST IS IT GOOD. “I once loved a girl/ But she couldn’t take that I visited troublesome houses,” Oldham hums on the opener, “Troublesome Houses.” And it only gets better from there. What a fucker. GOOD+

Royal Trux, Twin Infinitives. It’s––it’s really fuckin’ good. GREAT

CAVE, Pure Moods EP. Looking like and sounding like Lester Bangs’s ideal band, Chicago’s CAVE rock hard and burn slow. And the song titles! “Hot Bricks”! “Teenager”! “Brigitte’s Trip (White Light/White Jazz)”! This is krauty, krauty stuff; pure 1970s, pure vibes, pure moods. GOOD+

Various Artists, Hey Drag City. As is clearly stated, “Various artists have never been so varied, so artistic.” I would like to add: A label comp has never before been so fucking incredible, so fucking perfect. GREAT

Selena Gomez is the star of  the Disney Channel Original Series Wizards of Waverly Place. She’s also a pop star. Her band is called the Scene. The Scene. THE SCENE. Selena & the Scene’s first album is called Kiss & Tell. It came out last September.

Then, like yesterday, Selena & the Scene released their newest single, “Round & Round.” The song is fantastic, modern pop . And the video further cements Gomez’s importance in music, style, popular culture, America, the world, music videos:

Clearly, the international intrigue aesthetic is doing big things for the video. Here’s a closer look:

Wearing a trench coat and leaving the French hotel and getting into a sinister-looking vintage Jaguar

Establishing shot of the performing/singing portion of the music video. Nice dress, nice brown tones, nice band

Dane Forrest on keyboards

Listening in to a wire-tap, etc. in her French hotel room

“We’re going round and round”

The exchange. Black gloves!

Introduction of second singing area. Seems to be in an elevator, seems to be wearing a different dress

Bourne trilogy-y/Tomorrow Never Dies-y exterior shot of the hotel. In the video, note the unsteady zoom-in

In the darkroom developing the film she received in exchange for her wire-tap information

Intense

European

Just a shot of espresso and some sort of wordless exchange/blackmail

Powerful

Planning

The chase is on. Mercedes. Citroën. Taste

Check the resemblance to the hotel in Tomorrow Never Dies

On the roof!

Cool, calm, and in control

In the very European circular hotel staircase thing. He falls

Mission: Complete

Amazing

1. The new MGMT record and its press
Goddamn I am so sick of hearing how the new MGMT record “doesn’t contain the triumvirate of hits that Oracular Spectacular did.” And I’m not defending Congratulations here, either. Fuck no. It’s awful. It’s stupid. It’s like the douchiest thing of the year so far. But the second douchiest thing, then, is how everybody can only say exactly one thing about it: If you want new versions of “Time To Pretend,” “Electric Feel,” and “Kids,” you’ve come to wrong place! No, that’s not the point. It may be somewhat noteworthy (and true), but it really doesn’t matter. Bands are allowed to “change direction.” What matters is the totally contrived way in which MGMT went about creating the album, self-consciously making sure that everything about it at once confuses some and endears others. Everything about Congratulations seems engineered to be a talking point for both fans and critics. And I don’t mean to condone self-conscious or contrived work. On the contrary, self-conscious music can be incredible (Vampire Weekend, most things on Drag City, etc.), but here Andrew VanWyngarden and Ben Goldwasser are so obviously showing their cards that it’s really just not even funny. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but something about Congratulations‘ self-consciousness is just so fucking douchey. It just gives off trying way too hard vibes, or something like that.

First there’s, yes, the fact that the album is sonically different than Oracular Spectacular and, yes, does not contain similar hits. That’s an article premise in Rolling Stone if I ever saw one! Secondly, and perhaps just as important, is the we-don’t-care-at-all-but-that’s-the-point album cover. Then there are those song titles. Those irritatingly un-oblique reference-laden song titles that just scream Oh yeah, we listen to older music. “Brian Eno” is the most obvious example of this, except that it’s actually kind of a cool song title. The big, big problem is “Song For Dan Treacy.” There are other ways to pay tribute to DIY punk legends without naming songs after them––especially if you’re ugly fucking MGMT. “Song For Dan Treacy” drips of self-conscious cred-grabbing; it’s so obviously designed to appeal to the Pitchfork writers/readers who actually know who that is/why he’s important. No one else is going to see the name, Google it, and then immediately Amazon the entire Television Personalities catalog and then claim to understand Congratulations better. And if they do, well, that’s actually a bigger problem. Also troubling is “Lady Dada’s Nightmare,” a title that aims to mock, apparently, Lady Gaga, pop, and also––what––like the Dadaists, but instead comes off as too current and too stupid to actually matter (like Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head, only different). But see, now I’ve written about all of these songs, just like I was supposed to. Congratulations, MGMT. Contrived definitely works.

2. M.I.A.
What happened here? How did she get like this? Motherhood? “Paper Planes”? Too much kombucha? I really couldn’t say, but it’s bad: M.I.A. is a douche. I guess we should’ve seen this coming, but now it’s upon us and it’s unavoidable. I don’t really know where to start. Earlier this month, in and interview with NME (excerpted here by nymag.com), M.I.A. dissed (that sounds lameee, but there’s nothing else to call it) Lady Gaga, citing a number of things I’m sure Lady Gaga is well aware of/doesn’t give a fuck about, and making herself sound all the douchier in the process. When asked if TV and the Internet have destroyed “the mythology around popstars,” M.I.A. responded with this:

“I don’t know. Again, there’s Lady Gaga––people say we’re similar, that we both mix all these things in the pot and spit them out differently, but she spits it out exactly the same! None of her music’s reflective of how weird she wants to be or thinks she is. She models herself on Grace Jones and Madonna, but the music sounds like 20-year-old Ibiza music, you know? She’s not progressive, but she’s a good mimic.”

Besides the fact she’s kind of answering, like, a different question, the things she’s saying are not great. First, I would like to meet all these people that are calling M.I.A. and Lady Gaga similar. Also, she is by no means the first person to come up with idea that Gaga is just recycling old pop ideas. That argument doesn’t really matter, either, since Gaga understands she’s kind of a retread––that’s like the point. Lady Gaga is progressive because she’s doing all of her crazy shit (like, CRAZY SHIT, however contrived it may be) right out there in the open––in the fucking mainstream––while M.I.A. is sitting left of center singing tired lyrics about activism that no one listens to anyway because of that beat. Oh, and 20-year-old Ibiza music? Of course. Who the fuck does M.I.A. think she is, the person James Murphy mocks in “Losing My Edge”? Oh wait. Yeah. Because she is.

This brings us up to speed, to the real heart of her douchiness. Despite everything––all of her posturing, mothering, participating––M.I.A. wants to be cool. And, well, she is. But she’s cool in a douchey, awful way. She has that teeth-gnashing, eye-rolling, of-course-she’s-doing-that thing going on (also see: Wayne Coyne, late-era Animal Collective, this type of thing). Basically, she needs Pitchfork. And oh is the feeling mutual. Today, M.I.A. “took over” Pitchfork’s Twitter account (they even got to make the inevitable “Pitchfork goes M.I.A.” pun) and kept everyone up to speed on…whatever was going on with her…on @pitchforkmedia. It’s all over now, but there are some memorable and douchey posts. Just looking at the page is obnoxious. Shit like:

-”go egosurfing DRINK A SHOT OF TEQUILLA spamouflaged in brandalism”
-”come be my U.S.B baby we could be digital natives A BELIEVER with citezenships”
-”i got digital cash Hactivism at its best Google Bombing with my Infotainment”
-”BORN FREE digiterati ecruiting at a nearest base OVERDRIVEN slacktivist screenagers good at neetspeak welcome”
-”R MY C/LOK KEYS REALLY REALLY REALLLLLLLLLLY OFFENDING U OK ILL TAKE THEM OFF ▖ ▗ ▘ ▙ ▚ ▛ ▜ ▝ ▞ ▟ ▀▖ ▗ ▘ ▙ ▚ ▛ ▜ ▝ ▞ ▟ ▀▁ ▂ ▃ ▆ ▇ █”

Goddammit. So that happened. And that is, as they say, douchey. Now, there’s also the matter of all of the GIF images M.I.A. and I guess “her people” have come up with to promote all of this. Here’s one right here. It’s got gold bars moving that spell out MIA, some grainy photo of some shitty car, and some other photo with M.I.A. in it and it’s all moving around for now reason except attention. This is good marketing, certainly. (We also learned that M.I.A.’s “yet untitled” third album is out June 29.) And there’s more. As part of the M.I.A.-Pitchfork thingy today, she also debuted the 9-minute video for her new “punk rock anthem” (?), the sarcastically-titled “Born Free.” The video for which is real, gritty, and violent, and might actually be sort of cool if it didn’t reek of vague third-world democracy activism and anti-Americanism.

Part II (or maybe III by now) of M.I.A.’s douchey hipsterness comes in the form of her signing on to release Sleigh Bells’ debut album on her label, Mom + Pop. Yeah, that’s just going to ruin everything. And besides which it just seems so…artificial, so teeth-gnashing, eye-rolling. Of course she’s doing that.

3. Maybe Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells’ debut album, Treats, is out May 11.

4. Jack Wolfe
“how is an agreement between an artist and a website douchey and/or pompous? though i can’t say i’m a fan of mia (the clash single was great!), i don’t understand all the hate on this blog. i especially don’t get how mia is superficial shit while the star of the “justify my love” video is somehow something…what… sincere?”

5. That guy who I’ve seen ask for douchey shit twice now
In the dining hall he went up to the lady and asked for horseradish. “Um hi, do you have any horseradish back there? Could you look?” Then in the library he went up to the librarian daintily holding a piece of paper in his hand: “Hi, um, do you have like a big envelope I could but this in? It’s a legal document and I don’t want it to get wet.” Fuck you. He’s in the a cappella group, too.

‘Psycho’ by the Sonics, from the album Here Are the Sonics, released in 1965.
‘God Only Knows’ by the Beach Boys, from the album Pet Sounds, released in 1966.
‘Heroin’ by the Velvet Underground, from the album The Velvet Underground & Nico, released in 1967.
‘Plastic Palace People’ by Scott Walker, from the album Scott 2, released in 1968.
‘Frownland’ by Captain Beefheart, from the album Trout Mask Replica, released in 1969.
‘Vitamin C’ by Can, from the album Ege Bamyasi, released in 1972.
‘Needles In the Camel’s Eye’ by Brian Eno, from the album Here Come the Warm Jets, released in 1974.
‘Gloria’ by Patti Smith, from the album Horses, released in 1975.
‘Roadrunner’ by the Modern Lovers, from the album The Modern Lovers, released in 1976.
‘Venus’ by Television, from the album Marquee Moon, released in 1977.
‘Blank Generation’ by Richard Hell & the Voidoids, from the album Blank Generation, released in 1977.
‘Boredom’ by Buzzcocks, from the 7″ EP Spiral Scratch, released in 1977.
‘Public Image’ by Public Image Ltd, from the album Public Image, released in 1978.
‘Navvy’ by Pere Ubu, from the album Dub Housing, released in 1978.
‘Disorder’ by Joy Division, from the album Unknown Pleasures, released in 1979.
‘Change’ by Killing Joke, from the album Killing Joke, released in 1980.
‘Deadhead’ by the Teen Idles, from the 7″ EP Minor Disturbance, released in 1980.
‘That’s When I Reach For My Revolver’ by Mission of Burma, from the EP Signals, Calls, And Marches, released in 1981.
‘Parties In Chelsea’ by Television Personalities, from the debut album And Don’t the Kids Just Love It, released in 1981.
‘Help Me Somebody’ by Brian Eno & David Byrne, from the album My Life In the Bush of Ghosts, released in 1981.
‘TV Party’ by Black Flag, from the album Damaged, released in 1982.
‘Pure Joy’ by Minutemen, from the album What Makes a Man Start Fires?, released in 1983.
‘Radio Free Europe’ by R.E.M., from the album Murmur, released in 1983.
‘Hare Krsna’ by Hüsker Dü, from the double album Zen Arcade, released in 1984.
‘Salad Days’ by Minor Threat, from the 7″ EP Salad Days, released in 1985.
‘Just Like Honey’ by the Jesus and Mary Chain, from the album Psychocandy, released in 1985.
‘Teen Age Riot’ by Sonic Youth, from the album Daydream Nation, released in 1988.
‘This Is the One’ by the Stone Roses, from the album The Stone Roses, released in 1989.
‘Breadcrumb Trail’ by Slint, from the album Spiderland, released in 1991.
‘Summer Babe (Winter Version)’ by Pavement, from the album Slanted & Enchanted, released in 1992.
‘Losing My Edge’ by LCD Soundsystem, from the 12″ single, Losing My Edge, released in 2002.

Mmmmmmmmhmmmmmmmm bitch.

LCD Soundsystem, Someone Great. It’s hard to believe Sound of Silver came out three years ago. I remember getting it the day it came out, playing it in my kitchen as soon as I got home, and then several more times later that night. The whole thing is fantastic. “Someone Great” is one of my favorite songs of the 21st century. This 6-song single came out in October ‘07 (the album came out in March ‘07) and features remixes of “Get Innocuous!”, “Sound of Silver,” “Us V Them,” and “Time To Get Away” (there’s also a live version of “Us V Them”; “Someone Great” is unfortunately not remixed). The Soulwax remix of “Get Innocuous!” extends the song by about 3 minutes and adds harder hitting sounds to the intro––like someone smacking the side of a van or something––until the pneumatic whooshes of the original are introduced, along with more of those metallic claks. The “Us V Them (Any Color U Like Remix by Windsurf)” is outstanding. It sounds nothing like the somewhat dark-sounding original: the melody of the original starts it off but quickly the song takes on an entirely different feeling: it sounds light and airy, and its 11 minutes evaporate in absolutely no time. The Gucci Soundsystem remix of “Time To Get Away” stretches out the song and makes everything sound thinner, less immediate; it sort of sounds like Black Leotard Front or something else on DFA. The single is totally worthwhile––like, extremely worthwhile. Get it, listen to Sound of Silver, and “Losing My Edge” a whole bunch, and get ready for This Is Happening. GOOD

Lamps, Lamps. Pissed Jeans’ Matt Korvette says that until he heard Lamps’ latest 7″, Niels Bohr Was An Excellent Ping Pong Player, he always thought of Lamps as an “album band.” Well, as far as I can tell, 2007’s Lamps is Lamps’ only full-length album, so I’m not exactly sure what he’s talking about. He probably just means Lamps is really good. And it is. Lamps (and Niels Bohr and like anything else you can find by this impossible-to-Google band) is awesome. GOOD

Gold Panda, You EP. Yeahhh. This is is bangin’. It’s got a totally self-conscious mid-east/Indian vibe going (listen to it or just look at the bellydancer cover art). It’s also got dubstep chopped-up female vocals, a repetitive almost-irritating beat, and vaguely relationship-y song titles like “You” and “Before We Talked.” And it’s also got three remixes of “You.” All of it works out pretty well for it. SUCK+

Dinowalrus, %. Dinowalrus is the sideproject of Titus Andronicus’s Peter Feigenbaum. %’s almost-sloppy art noise practically demands creddy reference points. So: Bad Moon Rising-era Sonic Youth, Parts & Labor, no wave, Flipper, Pere Ubu, Deerhunter, Mi Ami, HEALTH, Black Eyes, Archie Bronson Outfit, Neu!, and many more, probably, but those are just off the top of my head. GOOD-

Harlem, Free Drugs . Lo-fi garage pop with a dumb name and a dumber album name (that’s supposed to just be like a semi-colon, a hyphen, and a close-parenthesis, not actually an emoticon)? Could not really check out more. Also, the songs are real good. “Caroline” is Velvet Underground-y (that guitar and, uhhhh the name Caroline); “South of France” is so, so stylish (the title, and lines like, “Two years later I’m back in the same town/ This time I brought my girlfriend”); “Beautiful & Very Smart” is sweet n’ simple (”I think you’re cool and I think we should talk”); “Disneyland” sort of does the sweet n’ simple Velvet Underground thing (”I want you around/ Oh I do/ Oh yeah I do”). GOOD

Gordon Lightfoot, Complete Greatest Hits. Even though the only reason to have this is because your friend’s dad insisted on “burning you a copy,” “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” is FUCKING AMAZING. Dads know. SUCK+

Jason Derulo, Jason Derulo. Besides the ubiquitous-for-a-reason “Whatcha Say” and “Ridin’ Solo,” this album contains a number of other sleekly-produced cutzzz, reminiscent of a poor-man’s Dream, or the last Akon album. Everything––that is, the synths––feels like its suspended in glass or like whirling through the air, slowly and gradually––it’s an odd sensation of hurtling through space and floating in place at the same time. In parties it sounds fantastic. “Sky Is the Limit” is a good example of this. Ditto “Love Hangover.” “Blind” is pure r&b bliss, all snaps and shimmering-in-air synths. “Queen of Hearts”’s synth bleats dig deeeeep in the beginning and then gradually build up to nothing but more deep bleating. “In My Head” is unusual in its honesty: “I can see you going down/ In my head/ I see you all over me/ You fulfill my fantasy/ In my head.” But without listening to the  words, it’s just as good––probably better. The thick synths and that jajajajaja intro are really all you need. SUCK+

J Dilla, Pay Jay. Worth the price just for “Trucks”––a hip hop re-imagining of Gary Numan’s “Cars”––Pay Jay is eleven rap songs, none of which are instrumental (good and noteworthy because there are about 500 other Dilla instrumentals available, and more are being released in the form of Donut Shop in May). There’s the Kanye-prod “We F’d Up”; the minimal, maybe middle eastern-sounding “Creepin’ On You”; the slinky and soul-y breakup song “Remember”; the simple “No One Knows” with its gorgeous sample; the slightly askew-sounding, Mos Def-y “Drive Me Wild”; the lo-fi anthem “Unknown Track.” Then, of course, there’s “Trucks.” Just cool. To the tune of “Cars” with re-done lines like, “Here in my truck/ Whatever’s here in my cup/ Got me feeling fucked up/ But this is how we live in trucks.” Just cool. GOOD-