Author: Eric Saeger

CULT, DW-05 (Drum Workouts Records)

OK, this is actually great, an EP from an Irish DJ who’s part of a purported new wave of classically influenced producers. If you keep track of such things, he’s received love from X-Coast, DJ Stingray and IMOGEN, among others, which is as workaday as getting a review blurb from Stephen King for your new horror novel, but in this case I’m hopping on board, absolutely. In truth there’s really only a perfunctory modicum of “classical” in this stuff, so don’t be put off; mostly it’s a hybrid of drum ’n’ bass and deep house if that makes any sense (it certainly should, I’d imagine). Put more succinctly, the beats lope and (gently) stampede, chasing their layers around aural racetracks, while ’80s and ’90s hip-hop-centric vocal lines and assorted toasts keep pace. If it isn’t the current state of the velvet rope club in places like Ibiza I’d be surprised and a bit disappointed. A+ —Eric W. Saeger

Caleb Wheeler Curtis, The True Story of Bears and the Invention of the Battery (Imani Records)

Hope you’re into Thelonious Monk if you’re thinking of indulging in this one, because this Brooklyn multi-instrumentalist sure loves him some of that; matter of fact the songs are, it’s suggested by this thing I’m reading here, explorations of Monk’s ideas, particularly on the second disc of this double LP, appropriately subtitled Raise Four: Monk the Minimalist. It sounds that way, too, lots of honking and wildly adventurous post-bop explorations, what I usually think of as high-test, dark-roast jazz if you will. Curtis switches back and forth between trumpet and three saxophone types, “stritch” (alto), sopranino and tenor, and he’s supported most ably on this double album by two rhythm sections, bassist Sean Conly and drummer Michael Sarin on the first disc and bassist Eric Revis and drummer Justin Faulkner on the second. Obviously, Monk is an acquired taste, not one I’ve ever developed with any seriousness, but this is surely a great workout for your noggin if you have the time and space to indulge in it. A+ —Eric W. Saeger

_PLAYLIST

A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases

• Our next Friday-load of new albums is Nov. 8, or so this thing’s telling me, but this week we’re going to start with something decidedly not rock ’n’ roll at all, specifically super-old music played by 24-year-old Dutch recorder wunderkind Lucie Horsch! If you’re the type of listener who only knows about comedy albums and crunk singles, you’re probably wondering what a “recorder” is, so let’s dig into that before you lose interest completely! A recorder is a vaguely flute-like wind instrument, basically a glorified “flutophone” (an easy-to-play thingamajig we old people had to play in grade-school music class or we’d get yelled at). Lucie’s new album is The Frans Brüggen Project: Orchestra Of The Eighteenth Century, and it features her own wunderkind-centric renderings of music written by composers in the 1700s. The selections on this album were originally created by Haydn, Bach and all those guys in wigs, and the angle here is that she plays these wicked old tunes on antique recorders that were previously owned by this Frans Brüggen feller, who was sort of wunderkind-ish himself. Case in point: If you want awesomeness, on her recording of Marcello’s “Oboe Concerto in D Minor, S. Z799: II. Adagio (Performed on Recorder),” Lucie plays a recorder that was made in the year 1720, way before the first Hives album came out. Ha ha, look at this, Lucie caught flak on Facebook (where else) for calling her advance recording of the aforementioned concerto a “single,” like, some guy yelled at her for calling it a “single” instead of a “movement”; it was as if she’d asked the guy “would you please pass the jelly” when she’d actually wanted him to pass the Polaner All-Fruit, and it made him lose it completely! Anyhow, the Marcello single or Polaner Blueberry Snob Spread or whatever is very pretty and bucolic and whatnot; she’s supported by a string section, so it’s music that’s perfect for relaxing in a forest glade, nibbling on psychedelic skunk cabbage leaves or whatever people used to do for entertainment before there was My Cat From Hell and such.

• And now back to our regularly scheduled rundown of music from this abysmal century, starting with Scottish indie-rock band Primal Scream’s new album, Come Ahead! They have been around since 1982, spotlighting the bland vocals of former Jesus and Mary Chain drummer Bobby Gillespie, and he’s still here, bringin’ the LootCrate-level singing to these neo-psychedelic/garage tunes, like the new single from this album, “Deep Dark Waters,” a mid-tempo snoozer that sounds kind of off-key to me, but what would I know, I’ve only been a rock critic since Walter Mondale was president!

• Albany, New York,-based emo band State Champs is back, dumping another of their Dashboard Confessional-soundalike albums on my hopelessly messy desk, and surprise, this one’s self-titled, for no reason whatsoever! “Too Late To Say” is catchy, after a watered-down emo fashion. Do people still listen to this kind of stuff?

• Last but not least (unless I find that it actually is), it’s experimental metal duo The Body, with their new LP, The Crying Out Of Things! They are from Portland, Oregon, but they are nevertheless awesome, going by their new single, “End Of Line,” a deconstructionist’s dream that would have fit in fine with all the other fine products from Throbbing Gristle and all that stuff, back when planet Earth was still a smoldering ball of lava and the nepo babies hadn’t taken over. It is highly recommended! —Eric W. Saeger

Janet Devlin, Emotional Rodeo (Ok!Good Records)

Regardless of genre, it’s not often that I encounter an artist who actually seems to be having fun with what they’re doing. I realize that modern country-pop stars, particularly female ones, are basically required to exhibit positivity and all that stuff (see Pickler, Kellie), but this girl does have her some fun, tabling neo-honky-tonk stompers like the newest single “Red Flag” (whose lyrics argue that people shouldn’t be hypervigilant for warning signs in new relationships, at least up to a point, which I’m on board with, given that I personally never dated anyone for whom I didn’t have a few dozen pointed questions within 10 minutes of meeting them; it’s really basic stuff) and Walmart-radio face-punchers like the title track. OK, at least the vibe here isn’t pseudo-heavy metal, and the bluegrass-dobro parts do seem genuine enough. This will be a big one if you’re into ladies in cowboy hats, folks, don’t miss out. Lots of non-annoying fun. Oh, before I forget, she’s Irish by the way. A+

Haujobb, The Machine In The Ghost (Dependent Records)

Bit of a surprising one, this. Last time I checked in with this German electro-goth duo — jeez, 2011’s New World March — they’d abandoned their hope of becoming the next Skinny Puppy or Front Line Assembly in favor of chasing a more danceable sound. That more or less sent them to the back of the bus as far as the black leather vampire crowd was concerned; obviously joy isn’t part of the equation. However, this marks a return to their darkwave-loving roots, with somewhat mixed results, not that it’s all that bad really: Here they’ve embraced the goth-club trend of throwing movie samples, stompy industrial lines and borderline cheesy synths into a Cuisinart and barely checking the results, or so it seems at first listen. The riffing does get infectious, but first you have to get past the overuse of post-apocalyptic atmospherics that seem to introduce every song. That stuff’s been done to death, but sure, it’s nice to hear it done by these guys, who obviously do have an interest in keeping bodies on the dance floor. A

_PLAYLIST

A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases

• This can’t be, homies, it’s November already, the next new-album-Friday is Nov. 1, please stop and let me get to the beach just one more time before hopelessness descends upon the land! You know, people love to get on my Facebook and grill me about stuff like “Is there anything that you actually like?” but it’s really hard for me to say on social media, given that it’s so impersonal. Why bother? If I express an opinion, like, say, “I never need to hear another song from Bowie or Queen ever again,” these people act like I kicked their dog, so usually I try to — no, actually I won’t lie to you guys, yes, I do say things just to cause trouble, especially on Facebook. See, to me, the only reason to use social media in the first place is to see what you can get away with. For instance, I don’t actively hate The Beatles, I’m just sick of them after listening to them for half a century (I loved Abbey Road when I was the only kid on my block who was actually listening to the whole thing) (I do hate Queen, though; aside from the opera stuff, their song structures are hilariously awful). In short, my real strategy is to get my invisible friends on social media to go listen to music that wasn’t released back when every car had a cigarette lighter. Like everyone else I’m selectively hypocritical about it, of course, take for example my positive regard for edgy-ish ’80s bands like The Cure, whose new album, Songs Of A Lost World, is on the way to the “record stores” or the 7-Elevens or wherever people buy physical albums these days. Cure singer Robert Smith is of course a sad insane clown these days (did you see his performance at the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame a couple of years ago, how does stuff like that even happen), and yes, there was his “All I Want” period, when he’d obviously decided to write nothing but bad songs for whatever reason. But no, it’s still The Cure, and I am now listening to the new single, “Alone!” And so much for that, it’s pretty disappointing, sort of a Las Vegas-ready ballad that drags on. Maybe the album’s other songs are fine, I don’t know!

• Peter Perrett is the singer for British new wave band the Only Ones, who’ve been around since 1976! His new solo album, The Cleansing, features a single titled “Disinfectant,” a mid-tempo old-school-punk tune that recalls Sex Pistols and all that sort of stuff. It’s decently annoying, go check it out if you have nothing else to do!

• Autre Ne Veut is the stage name of one Arthur Ashin, from New York City, U.S.A.! Perhaps you are one of the 9,000 people who hit Like on his most popular YouTube tune, the borderline boyband single “Age of Transparency,” an epic, listenable-enough joint when he puts away the trap drum sample and the bad singer and shoots for the rooftops. His new LP, Love Guess Who, will feature contributions from Micah Jasper (ELIO, Rebecca Black), Kris Yute and Spencer Zahn; it is his first album in seven years! The test-run single is “About To Lose,” a chill-pop number that combines Bruno Mars with Tangerine Dream in an effort that actually reads a lot better than I just made it sound; it’s fine.

• And finally, it’s English singer Beth Jeans Houghton, who makes psychedelic/garage albums under the pseudonym Du Blonde, including their forthcoming new one, Sniff More Gritty! “TV Star” showcases this person’s talents for making their hair into 1970s punk-spikes, singing like Sixpence None The Richer half the time and writing passable no-wave noise-guitar lines. It’s usable enough.

Sara Serpa, Encounters & Collisions (Biophilia Records)

I’m sorry, I can deal with a lot of things — improv jazz, noise-jazz, lots of things — but this just isn’t my cup of tea. That may be because I gravitate to a rather conventional Earl Grey, and sure, I appreciate that a lot of critics would tell me that this Portuguese singer is an acquired taste that’s beyond my ken, but I’m not a fan of self-indulgent sounds of any sort. This LP starts out with a spoken-word soliloquy about how her name is pronounced “SAH-rah,” not “SAIR-ah,” and some other gobbledygook I didn’t bother with, and then it’s on to an exercise in off-Broadway performance art, riding bumpily along on a purposely rickety float comprising cello, sax and piano. I’ll admit that a lot of (never-released) tension does emanate from Serpa’s constant edging toward dissonance, stuff that most normies would diagnose as being off-key. But I don’t need it, really. Your mileage may vary, of course, and if you want intimacy in your acoustic, academic-sounding chamber-jazz, this’d be it. C

Various Artists, Pulp Fiction: 30th Anniversary Soundtrack (Interscope Records)

I don’t know how anyone reading this could say they’ve never seen this 1994 movie, but then again, I’ve never watched The Shawshank Redemption or Deliverance all the way through, so there’ll be no charge for your hall pass. The soundtrack gave (more or less) rise to a surf-rock resurgence in pop culture; the film’s opening tune, Dick Dale’s “Miserlou,” starts things off here, leading into some dialog between John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson (yes, the bit about how the McDonald’s Quarter Pounder is called a “Royale with cheese” in France). Next is Kool & The Gang’s stomp-funky “Jungle Boogie,” which was a pleasant surprise for me to hear on the original soundtrack; I’d listened to it quite a bit in the 1980s while writing an album and doggedly attempting to expand my spectrum of musical influence (back then, I honestly believed no one else had ever even heard the dumb thing before). Director Quentin Tarantino (nowadays #MeToo-canceled, last I checked) had a pretty bizarre range of influences himself; I never understood the appeal of Urge Overkill’s “Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon,” but it’s here too. The draw here is that it’s being released on day-glo vinyl, which is as Tarantino-schlocky as things could possibly get I suppose. A

_PLAYLIST

A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases

• Right on time, Oct. 25 will see a Friday-load of new albums, from bands, overrated synth-pop artists, and nepo babies who sing off-key! Twerking like demented circus clowns, they’ll bang their Who-boombas and clang their ba-zingas and annoy me with all the noise, noise, noise, noise! What am I to do, fam, demand hazard pay? Ask all those bad bands to take music lessons? No, there is nothing I can do but report on these new albums, so that you’ll know what to do with whatever money you have left after rent, your Roku subscription and your weekly supply of ramen noodle packets and cans of beans! But wait a second, before I whip out my Gatling gun of snark and really go to town, here’s some good news, a new album from Amyl and the Sniffers, titled Cartoon Darkness! You know, I’d thought I was the only kid on my block to admire this Australian pub-punk band, but the other week someone posted about them on my Twitter and my hope for humanity was instantly lifted juuust a little bit. Don’t know about you, but I fell in love with these criminals when I saw the video of “Some Mutts (Can’t Be Muzzled),” like, the singer makes Courtney Love look like Martha Stewart, and all I wanted out of life was to go on a Dave & Buster’s date with that girl and see how long it would take to get arrested. You people really need to go check them out, but in the meantime I’m going to see if they’re still completely feral, by checking out the video for “Chewing Gum,“ from this slappin’ new album! OK forget it, it’s awesome, she’s trying to be the next Lydia Lunch and succeeding, she’s got lipstick all over her insane rictus grin, and she’s holding a cigarette whose ash is like 2 inches long, go see this video, kids, I beg of you, you need to.

• Awesome and groovy, I’m already ahead of the holiday album curve, because your generation’s Elton John, Ben Folds, is releasing an album of Christmas songs, cleverly titled Sleigher, see what he did there! I am pleasantly amazed that the Christmas albums are already coming out, because it seemed like there weren’t any at all for me to write about here the last few years, let’s go see what this wacky piano person is doing to “Jingle Bells” or whatever. Yup, it’s good, this version of “The Christmas Song,” but let’s be real, even Gilbert Gottfried could have made that song appealing. He’ll be appearing at the Cabot Theatre in Beverly, Mass., on Nov. 10, but I’m sure the last 18 remaining tickets will have been sold by the time you read this, sorry for your loss.

• A lot of you old people remember the 1980s, when Tears for Fears was doing so many drugs that they were going around saying they were bigger than The Beatles, ha ha, remember those days? Well, they have a new live album coming out on Friday, titled Songs for a Nervous Planet! Now, don’t worry, fellow old people, Curt Smith and Roland Orzabal are still leading the band, and they still (mostly) sound like Tears For Fears as of their last album, The Tipping Point, so let’s cut to now, when they sound like a sleepy wedding band on the live version of “Everybody Wants To Rule The World” that’s on board this one. But who cares, guys, it’s Tears For Fears, amirite? I miss big poofy hair, don’t you?

• Last but not least on our plate is the new album from 1980s Boston-indie-rock legends Pixies, The Night The Zombies Came! “Motoroller” is a decent mid-tempo goth-rocker, with Frank Black doing a passable Marilyn Manson impersonation, sort of, if that’s even what he was even intending to do, who knows.

Michael Des Barres, It’s Only Rock N’ Roll (Rock Ridge Music)

Most old people have heard of this dandy (that’s literally what he is; he inherited the title of Marquis from a 13th-century French ancestor) but are far more familiar with his ex-wife, Pamela, the most famous groupie in rock history. Musically he’s always been something of a non-starter; he was in Silverhead, Detective and a few other bands, and didn’t really make much of a splash before replacing Robert Palmer in Power Station just in time to front the band at the 1985 Live Aid concert. Ladies, he looks nothing like he does on this album cover nowadays, but far better for me to mock his music than that Peter Pan business. We open with “Dyna-Mite” — not the BTS tune but the MUD glam-rocker — and right off the bat I’m thinking Rocky Horror but in serious mode, you know, T. Rex all the way baby. This is supposed to be music from Des Barres’ salad days, but Slade’s “Cum On Feel The Noise” will make 99 percent of the world think of Quiet Riot and he can’t sing it for beans. Alice Cooper’s most boring song ever, “Eighteen,” gets a properly mediocre rendition. Etc. D+

HIM, When Love and Death Embrace The Best of HIM 1997-2003 (BMG Records)

Depending on whom you ask, Finland’s biggest-ever band is (usually) cited as being either Nightwish or Lordi, but this goth-metal act does get its mentions. They’ve been broken up for good since 2017, but it’s just as well I suppose, given that their heyday is celebrated in this comp, and besides, Nightwish has long since taken over their mantle. But what a time it was for these guys, back in the early days, their first one-off American appearance coming by way of none other than skateboarder/Jackass Bam Margera, and the rest is (mostly Finnish) history. Their (very Bauhaus-meets-Marilyn Manson) version of Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear The Reaper” is here, as is their po-faced rub of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game,” and it’s about at that point that most U.S. audiences check either in or out as far as what they’re familiar with insofar as this band’s oeuvre. If you ever wanted to hear Bauhaus on steroids, it’s this, however that strikes your fancy. A

_PLAYLIST

A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases

• This Friday, Oct. 18, is three days before my birthday, so if the gods are willing, there will be decent albums for me to listen to, so that I can bring you readers glad tidings of stuff you should be listening to, marking a double celebration! Now, you and I both know that the chances of that are pretty slim, like, the last time I checked, there weren’t going to be new albums coming out this week from, say, Wire and Skinny Puppy and Acumen Nation and Pet Shop Boys alongside recently discovered recordings of Al Jolson singing all Groucho Marx-like or Benny Goodman wailing on his clarinet like Jimmy Page before there even was a Jimmy Page, so I will roll the dice, check the list, and prepare myself for the usual nauseating stew of new albums from twerkers and nepo babies. Speaking of the latter, I was in a Target store the other day when what to my bloodshot eyes should appear but a brand new glossy magazine, titled Paris (referring to Auto-Tune-dependent singing-fraud Paris Hilton, of course) subtitled something insane like Pop Icon. I couldn’t believe it, because in the old days it used to take all sorts of payola and whatnot to get an artist on the cover of a nice glossy magazine, like Hit Parader, where rock stars were interviewed in careful fawning depth by drunken journalists so the lumpen masses could discover important things like their favorite rock star’s most-hated grade school teacher, or their favorite Skittles color. But let’s face it, local bands, we’ve entered a horrifying “nepotism era” of rock ’n’ roll, folks, so, for anyone out there with rock ’n’ roll dreams, your task is clear: Unless you are Paris Hilton and can pay Megan Thee Stallion to pretend to like you, or you’re Sabrina Carpenter and can demand a record contract or else your aunt, Nancy Cartwright, will immediately stop voicing the part of Bart Simpson on The Simpsons, you have no choice but to put out 50 albums a year like King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard and all those bands do. It’s either that or just give up and finish your degree or become a plumber if you enjoy doing things like eating food and sitting in a heated dwelling without too much survival anxiety. I did not make up these new rules, guys, and the next local musician who yells at me about it on Facebook is going to get publicly ridiculed in this column, promise not threat. But meanwhile, let’s talk about TV-talk-show houseplant Jennifer Hudson and her new album, The Gift Of Love, since no one else will! Yes, it is supposedly a holiday album, but there are other hilariously over-sung covers here, like “Nature Boy” and Aretha’s “Respect.” Hm, that’s odd, no Bad Brains songs.

• Joe Jonas was the Jonas who was with the girl from Game of Thrones, and they divorced, so apparently his lawyers advised him to make a new album, which is on the way as we speak, titled Music For People Who Believe In Love! But does he, after divorcing Sansa Stark (she actually smiles a lot now)? Who knows, but the title of this album’s first song is “Work It Out,” and it starts with 12-string noodling before descending into a Justin Timberlake romp-along with high-pitched singing. Ack.

• The (it’s threatened) “final album” from noise-rockers Japandroids, Fate & Alcohol, is a bummer, because I wish they weren’t disbanding. “D&T” is a totally cool punk-speed rocker that would make Frank Black jealous. Don’t quit, fellas!

• Finally it’s Kylie Minogue, being impossibly cougar-sexy again, with her new album, Tension II! “Lights Camera Action,” the single, is a euro-trance tune that’s pretty great when she isn’t trying to sing like Ariana Grande, stop that this instant.

The Bruce Lofgren Group, Earthly And Cosmic Tales (self-released)

Apparently it’s already the start of Grammy-voting season, given that I’ve been asked to vote for this record in the first round of the Best Alternative Jazz Album category. It’s very flattering that these people think I have some sort of say in the Grammy process, but if anyone’s listening (no one is), as far as alternative jazz albums go I’d consider this one, sure. Lofgren is a southern California-based guitarist who’s been around for quite a while and built a sturdy following for his very colorful tuneage, which this certainly is. He’s not trying to frame himself as a rock bandleader at all, which is a nice break; the instruments that join him here are legion, including clarinets, fretless basses, vibes and cellos. Rather than break this down track by track I’d prefer to paint the release as something that speaks to the album cover, which has become a lost art these days: if anything, it’s a lot like Spyro Gyra in mellow mode, evincing lush, exotic landscapes rather than smoke-filled rooms. I don’t get many like this dropped on my desk; very pleasurable, deeply thought stuff. A+

Ian Gindes, Rachmaninoff Piano Works (Navona Records)

As you probably assume, classical piano music is the beluga caviar of sound. I grew up with it; my mom would bash away at her baby grand every single day (if you want to know how good she was, go listen to the YouTube of Maria João Pires performing Franz Schubert’s Impromptu D.899, Opus 90 – No. 4. That was a daily staple; mom’s version was close to that, bang-on when she was angry enough). Over the years I’ve grown to love Johann Strauss’ and Vivaldi’s symphonics, but the classical piano works of Sergei Rachmaninoff were never my bowl of Fritos really. Such desperate mawkishness, the depthless agony of the Russian proletariat, hard pass. This SoCal doctor loves him some Sergei, though, so I figured I’d let him know that someone other than the PBS arts critic and the bluebloods who’ve watched him play at Carnegie Hall are out there. Gindes’ playing is exquisite of course, and convinced me not to become an active fan of the virtuoso but to admit that his romances were indeed very pretty, non-depressing and not so angst-ridden (Op. 21: No. 5 in A-Flat Major for instance). Gentle reminder that this isn’t art that exclusively panders to snobs, you guys, it’s for everyone. A+

_PLAYLIST

A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases

• Holy vampire bats, Batman, Halloween is on the way, and there are new albums coming out on Friday, Oct. 11, to celebrate Samhain or whatever the goths like to call it when they’re trying to sound worldly! I wanted my holiday to be super special, so for the first time since Covid-19 first appeared on the scene, I contracted it this week during a trip to Concord to try to mine some antiques out of a barn. It’s the absolute worst folks, do your due diligence or you’ll be sorry, I sure am. But anyway, we’re not here to talk about drama in real life, we’re here to chat about albums, so let’s start with Supercharged, the new one from California skate-rock hooligans The Offspring, you remember them, right? No, no, not the ones who did the Malcolm in the Middle song, that was They Might Be Giants, try to keep up even though there’s really no difference at all, that’d be great. (Yes, it has come to this, my next task in this life at this writing is to go listen to a band that’s been completely irrelevant for more than 15 years as I try to fend off the urge to curl up on the couch with my lovely little XEC Covid virus gremlins and dream of being normal and non-cough-y again someday.) No, The Offspring are fine, I remember when emo was a new thing to people who hadn’t been listening to it for years already, let’s go have a listen to this new album; I think we should start with “Light It Up,” a really fast little pure-punk number that has nothing wrong with it, as opposed to the nauseatingly poppy “Make It All Right,” which makes They Might Be Giants sound like Slayer. Good lord, there’s even a Partridge Family-level “Ba ba ba ba baaaa” singalong in there. How did anyone allow this to happen?

• I’d place scary high odds that most times when they hear an Alter Bridge song most people think it’s actually Creed. That’s not a compliment, of course, but the punchline is that during one binge-drinking episode Slash, of Guns N’ Roses fame, hired Alter Bridge’s singing person Myles Kennedy to join his new band, and thus a new wrestler-metal act hit the streets, called “Slash featuring Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators!” I don’t know why Slash thought it would be a good idea to make his new band sound more like Creed, but that’s the state of the genre now, and besides, Kennedy has his own band, whose new album, The Art Of Letting Go, is being loaded into the delivery trucks as we speak! Let’s go see! Right, so the first song to come up in my YouTube is “Nothing More To Gain,” which, oddly enough, is more Guns N’ Roses-like than I ever would have expected, perhaps our hero has learned a lesson about the benefits of not sounding like Creed! Yes, yes, the tune starts off with an unintelligible blues-metal mess, mostly a bunch of random notes that’ll make you think of hairy men in Abraham Lincoln hats, and then Kennedy starts singing like Axl Rose! Funny how the circle of life works, isn’t it, fam?

• The Linda Lindas are an all-girl “punk-pop” band from Los Angeles, but that’s not their fault! The title track of their new album, No Obligation, is surprisingly interesting; unlike the tedious emo nonsense I was expecting, it’s like a cross between Black Flag and Hole. Recommended if you want to tick somebody off for no reason.

• And lastly it’s dream-popper Caroline Sallee, who goes by the stage name Caroline Says, with her latest oeuvre entry, The Lucky One! She covered a Spacemen 3 song once, indicating she likes them, which explains why her new single “Faded And Golden” is strummy, spacey and uneventful.

Randy Ingram, Aries Dance (Sounderscore Record

Often, this Los Angeles-based jazz pianist astutely refers to his playing as “dancing,” a descriptor one could toss out to denote any similar keyboard-meister. Other critics have dubbed his playing “strong,” “personal,” “passionate” and “self-possessed,” adjectives that are also generically accurate when one is trying to paint a picture of a pianist whose mastery evokes ritzy ballrooms as opposed to smoke-filled bars. The thing about this swing-influenced fellow is that he’s devoutly determined to match up well with his drummers, in this case legendary Herbie Hancock/Stan Getz/etc. beat-keeper Billy Hart, who at age 83 doesn’t hold back, and in fact, if I’m forced to quibble with any of the soundscaping on this record, it’d be that Hart’s toms are a tad loud in the mix (usual caveat applies: others would argue that it makes it sound more organic). But anyway, yes, it’s livelier than most of the piano-led trios that wander into my mailbox, and the song selections are first-class, from the almost Beethoven-like interpretation of Wayne Shorter’s “Penelope” to the night-cruising original “Para Milton e Pedro,” it’s an exquisitely elegant trip. A

The Disappearing Act, An Illusion (Happiness [A Record Label])

This on-again-off-again indie band hasn’t released an album since Born to Say Goodbye nine years ago. While researching this outfit I had to check out a few D-tier bands that are cited as RIYL soundalikes, one of them being Motorcade, which do sound like this but with a lot spiffier production values (Apples In Stereo are also mentioned, which couldn’t be farther off). But you don’t want to spend the next three minutes getting caught up with bands that have less than 2,500 YouTube listens and I respect that; the long and short of it is that this sounds like a more animated Pavement that’s on Velvet Underground’s plethora of drugs. As such, if you’re like me — an adrenaline junkie with debilitating ADD — you’ll find that it plods along for the most part, you know, strummy-strum-strum, edgy platitudes piled one on top of the other like it’s a competition, etc. The Beck-begging “Why Is Everybody So Damn Happy” is a sentiment that shows the band isn’t paying attention to all the anxiety and self-hatred on social media nowadays; it’s kind of quaint in that regard. Yucky poo. B-

_PLAYLIST

A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases

• Onward we slog, me hardies, onward we slog to this Friday, Oct. 4, when new music albums will wash over our decks and near-drown our persons in twerking butt music, poorly written (on purpose, as we’ve seen) indie rock, nepo baby nonsense and probably tons of metal albums, because those guys never shut up, even for a minute. Oh, well, at least it’s Halloween month, and who better to usher in the festivities than British arena-indie legends Coldplay, with their suuuper-scaaary frontman Chris Martin, who was married to the even scaaarier Gwyneth Paltrow for a week or however long it was. As you may or may not know, Coldplay is widely considered indie-rock’s answer to Creed in too-online circles, in other words not too many people take them seriously. However, the band does have a fan here at the Hippo’s front offices (it’s either Coldplay or Five For Fighting, I’m not really sure, but let’s just proceed), so I will be nice and listen to their forthcoming new album, Moon Music, with an open mind and a full bottle of Southern Comfort, because it’s only fair! In case you’re intelligent and ignore celebrity gossip like most people avoid open elevator shafts, things have changed for Chris Martin! After Gwyneth yelled “Seize him!” and her scimitar-wielding guards threw him out of her weird-smelling mega-mansion, he hooked up with alpha nepo-baby Dakota Johnson of really-bad-movies fame, and that’s where we stand at the moment, waiting for him to announce another thing that’s really strange about him! But in the meantime, this new album is already available on YouTube, let me go check it out and start typing things about it before I bag the whole idea and just find a decent kazoo-and-jaw harp band that’s releasing an album of Metallica covers to review instead of Moon Music. Right, the first song on here is called “feelslikeimfallinginlove,” see what they did there. Ha ha, the video has people hand-dancing like Napoleon Dynamite, and the tune is mellow soccer-parent somnambulism, very polite, appropriately melodic, it’ll be a huge hit on Good Morning America and such. Is Coldplay the Aughts version of The Beatles/Pearl Jam? Discuss.

• Hold the phone, guys, something interesting is here, namely a band called Memorials, with their new album, Memorial Waterslides! Why are they interesting? I’m glad you asked: The band features Electrane’s Verity Susman and Wire’s Matthew Simms, and as you know, I’m one of those inappropriate misfits who loves Wire, so I’ll listen to anything any of those guys puts out, including this, even though Simms only joined the 48-year-old band as their guitarist in 2010. Yikes, there’s like no promotion for these guys, I had to dig around YouTube for an entire eight minutes before I found the single, “Cut It Like A Diamond,” how am I the only person on Earth who cares about Wire? In short, it’s awesome, a psychedelic-art-rock tune that makes like Flaming Lips trying to be David Essex, won’t you people please love this?

• Alicia Keys is a fan of San Diego band Thee Sacred Souls, so they might be good, I don’t know! Their new LP Got A Story To Tell includes a torchy reggae-soul tune called “Lucid Girl,” you’ll probably like it if you dig both Bob Marley and Smokey Robinson. They’ll be at Roadrunner in Boston on Nov. 10.

• Finally it’s Canadian indietronica act Caribou, aka Dan Snaith, with a new album, called Honey! The title track has been around a few months and it’s really quite good, a wub-wubby, jungle-infused IDM track that’ll fit your brain like a pair of thick comfy socks. Very kyewl.