Pussy Riot, CYKA (self-released)
It was quite a surprise for me to find that this was the Russian protest-punk group’s debut album, given that they’ve been playing well-publicized shows, pulling all sorts of anarchic stunts and getting arrested for 14 years now, but yes, that’s what it is, the first proper full-length from Moscow’s answer to the Dead Kennedys, after a fashion (most of the band members are in exile nowadays at the behest of Vladimir Putin for all the rabble they’ve roused). In a way, it qualifies as world music, of a certain bent: While many Americans are accustomed to protesting our own government’s actions in the Middle East and such (at least online) this is a, well, almost refreshing view from another world entirely, where citizens — especially mindful, news-junkie types like these girls — are in a permanent, rabid state of outrage over events in Ukraine. It’s a striking juxtaposition if you’re an American who’s spent a lot of time on Twitter/Bluesky et al. over the last few years. Lots of angry Poppy-like caterwauling goes on here, of course, but the band had a lot of help from different corners of the industry, which led to some unexpected results, such as the sexy TLC-like cooing in the “Putin-guested” title track. In the no-surprise department, Avenged Sevenfold volunteers their nu-metal weaponry to “Candy Dopamine.” A+ —Eric W. Saeger
Tesla, Homage (Frontiers Music s.r.l.)
In the moment I’m writing this, I couldn’t name one song from this Sacramento, California, ’80s-hair-metal band if I had to save a million kittens, so luckily I don’t. I threw it on this week’s list because it seemed timely, given that Tesla Inc. owner Elon Musk just became America’s first trillionaire-on-very-flimsy-paper, and wisely enough the band leads off their home page with an announcement that they are indeed the band, not the automaker. Anyhow, they’ve actually been more of a bland-tasting mainstream rock band than anything else, which is the chart where they’ve historically made some dents, but for everything they do that sounds like Black Crowes there’s some room-temperature hard rock that’s in the vein of Europe and that sort of thing. They’re big into the Stones and Beatles, not that you can tell much from the cover songs they recite on this record; Supertramp’s absolutely awful “Give A Little Bit” gets a reading that replaces the original’s falsetto with the nasal bleating of an annoying nitwit like the dude from Buckcherry. Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” gets a particularly revolting turn, which was where I tapped out on this nonsense. They’ll be in Gilford at the BankNH Pavilion on July 24. C —Eric W. Saeger
PLAYLIST
A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases
• Moving right along with this totally forgettable year — or at least we’d like to forget it for five minutes, but the amount of alcohol required for that level of psychic anesthesia would bankrupt most countries – the next jumble of albums will come out on June 26, so we must talk about them, I’ll take an adequately barrel-aged tequila straight up please, with a nice lime wedge! Oh, but first, it’s time once again to remind musicians who are in local bands and want to get reviewed by me in this multiple award-winning newspaper section that the only sure-fire way to contact me is by messaging me at my Facebook and/or Twitter/Bluesky thingamajigs, at the addresses mentioned elsewhere on this page. The only thing I ask is that you include a graphic of your album/EP/mixtape cover and a brief “biography,” that is to say a description of your act, any interesting factoids, the official release date of your record, and, most importantly, who you are and where your band/act is based, meaning what specific town. I know I’m repeating myself, but in the old days, that used to be a no-brainer, like, bands automatically sent “press kits” with their albums, but nowadays, with the rise of things like Banksy and Burial and all sorts of other popular figures pretending not to want any recognition (any way we can stop that yet, pretty please with sugar on top?), it’s like pulling teeth for us art-scene journos to get straight answers to our basic questions, and it’s massively, massively annoying. For example, if you’re from Nashua, New Hampshire, don’t jump in my messages saying “my band is from the Boston area,” because it gives me a skin rash. Be concise, tell me why your act is awesome, and for extra points tell me whom you think your band/act sounds like. The easier you make my job, the more nice I will be to your album-or-whatever on this page, that’s how this works. I mean, not to brag, but I get about 300 emails a week from bands and publicists seeking press for new records, and given that I like to sit around eating Fig Newtons and watching Netflix documentaries as much as you do, you should keep in mind that there are always 300 other bands — some of them famous! — that want the publicity if you don’t. I am here to help you, same as how I am here to let people know that British folktronica lady Beth Orton has a new album coming out this Friday, titled The Ground Above. You may know Orton from the Aughts era, when she was something of a techno “It Girl,” collaborating with Chemical Brothers and such. The album’s title track features Orton singing rather badly over a sublime trip-hop beat in the vein of Portishead. She’ll be at the Crystal Ballroom in Somerville, Mass., on Sept. 19.
• For some reason, whenever I hear the name Chanel Beads I always think of taking a bubble bath, do you think that’s dumb, my sense of self-worth hinges on your answer. It’s the stage name of New York indie dude Shane Lavers, whose new album Your Day Will Come includes the cool, sparse, percussive dance(ish) track “Police Scanner.” He’ll perform at The Sinclair in Cambridge, Mass., on Sept. 13.
• I’ll just assume you know Aughts-indie favorites The Strokes; they release their newest LP Reality Awaits this Friday. What I heard of it was all fine, of course, starting with album opener “Psycho Sh-t,” made of their usual edgy, angular Romantics-meets-Interpol ingredients.
• Lastly we have The Pretty Reckless with an album called Dear God, whose title track sounds like Ani DiFranco trying to be Nine Inch Nails-ish, please make it stop. —Eric W. Saeger
Featured Photo: Sublime, Until The Sun Explodes and Tori Kelly, God Must Really Love Me
