Sweet, Give Us A Wink (Capitol Records)
I’m still kicking myself for forgetting to mooch press passes to this seminal arena-rock band’s recent appearance at the Tupelo Music Hall (all the original members save Andy Scott are deceased), but this album still merits a few paragraphs for the edification of Zoomers and millennials, who need to understand that the ’70s weren’t just about Zeppelin and Skynyrd. It was 1976 and seemingly everything was under the influence of LSD, from the bands to the Lipton Noodle Zoopman; this album’s vaguely Zep-like sound was a new thing, heavy and progressive but the instruments were played so mechanically and succinctly that I’d describe it as a predecessor to today’s hard-electro, like that of Pendulum for example. The octave-level, Munchkinesque vocal harmonies took a little getting used to, although people were well-accustomed to them after their prior hit “Ballroom Blitz,” a more generic rawk tune that was nothing like the ones on this album, like the spazzing “White Mice” and “Healer,” their answer to Zep’s “Kashmir.” Anyway, this is one you’d want to be familiar with if you’re at a pool party and the old folks are waxing nostalgic about the days “when music didn’t suck.” A+
Brian Ray, My Town (Wicked Cool Records)
Decent rock ’n’ roll musicians are born swindlers, musical roustabouts whose importance exists only in their own minds; the trick is to get everyone else to believe in their trip. This 69-year-old guitarist’s papers check out; he parlayed his 1970s stint with Bobby Pickett (of “Monster Mash” fame) into a reputation that allowed him to troll his way into Etta James’ band and then Paul McCartney’s in 2002. As you’d guess, the credits on this record are decidedly too-long-didn’t read; Smokey Robinson, Michael des Barres and Gia Ciambotti turn in vocal contributions, just for starters, and I could go on, but as far as the demographic this might appeal to? I don’t know, maybe people who’ve never heard a Rolling Stones record before? I mean, that’s what it is, tempo- and vibe-wise; the guitar sound alternates between grunge and Kinks, which is fine, and at times the sound wants to be Weezer-ish (Scott Shriner is here, by the way), but ultimately it’s background patter for an ’80s action movie, and bloody disengaged at that. B-
PLAYLIST
A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases
• At this writing the temperature is exactly one million degrees outside, here in sunny Manchvegas, New Hamster, and I have melted into a puddle of snark, so fair warning, all you new albums coming out on Friday, July 26, you’d better be good, or I’ll — why, I’ll — well, just you wait, ’enry ’iggins, I have plenty of outraged rage I’d love to direct at the wrong places, Given that my new book about social media and politics, My Year In The Online Left, just dropped a bit in the bestseller list, which means I can’t afford a trip to the North Pole! Yes yes, in my melted, snarky, basically liquefied state I am a loose cannon, and all I’ve been able to tolerate listening to lately is old — as in old — music, like, I made a mixtape for my car that has songs from Outlaws, Andrew Gold and Ace Frehley on it, and those are the most modern artists on the CD! The rest of it comprises stuff from the 1950s like Jerry Lee Lewis, The Dovells and Eddie Cochran, stuff that all the bros used to have playing in their souped-up ’32 Ford Coupes when they drove over to pick up Petunia and take her “parking” [nudge, nudge]. Yessir, 1950s greaser rock is all my delicate constitution has been able to tolerate lately, like, this week, Petunia wanted to catch up on the most recent season of Yellowjackets, and when I heard that stupid, sad, morose Radiohead song playing in the background during that one awful, disturbing, horrible scene, well, that was it, fam, something broke inside me and suddenly I had to hear “Sweet Little Sixteen” or I knew I would crack in half! But wait, don’t flip to Amy’s film reviews quite yet, I can still be as “groovy” as any other music journo; here, watch this, as I take a listen to the new Ice Spice single “Did It First,” from the TikTok/Nickelodeon princess’ fast-approaching new album, Y2K! Spoiler, it’s about romantic cheating and hawk tuah-ism, as always, but at least the beat is sci-fi and noise-garage-y, not that stupid wimpy trap stuff, like, this thing would totally shred the woofers in your totally keen souped-up Toyota Corolla to tatters if you cranked it while heading over to pick up Petunia and take her to the Twerk-O-Rama to watch her do her subtle, seductive mating dances! OK, may I go back to listening to The Silhouettes’ “Get A Job” now!
• OK, spread out, let’s stop making fun of twerking princesses and get down to the real meat of the era, namely bands that are kind of fun in a Mungo Jerry sort of manner, you know, amateurish bands led by broke, smelly millennial NEETS (which stands for “not in employment, education, or training,” have you heard this 15-year-old expression yet?), for instance Los Angeles outfit Alex Izenberg & The Exiles! Yes, they are in my “You should talk about this band” list, but they aren’t recommended, because they are broke and slovenly, so let’s be rebellious and talk about the band’s new single, “Drinking the Dusk Away,” from their new self-titled album! Wow, I have to report that although the song is appropriately moronic to fit the times, the vocal harmonizing is pretty concise, and they use an actual dobro. It’s on Domino Records, which is all you really need to know; i.e., it’s good.
• When he’s not having anxiety attacks on stage, North Carolina dance DJ Porter Robinson releases albums, like his new one, SMILE! 😀! The tune I listened to, “Knock Yourself Out XD,” combines a Nintendo beat with emo and Beatles. It is OK!
• We’ll call it a column with New York twee/dream-pop band Cults, whose new LP To the Ghosts features the tune “Left My Keys,” which sounds like Bon Iver with a (slight) pulse, or a really uninteresting M83, take your pick.