Frank Meyer, Living Between The Lines (Kitten Robot Records)
Back in June of last year I’d talked in this space about former New York Dolls guitarist Steve Conte, whose Concrete Jangle LP was a really pleasant surprise, a decidedly ’80s post-punk exercise that was full of really filthy guitar work and awash in hooks. Age and elite-level experience will bring that sort of pedigree to an artist, as it did to this guy, whose resume includes stints with Wayne Kramer from MC5, former New York Dolls utility player Sylvain Sylvain, and Iggy & the Stooges guitarist James Williamson. Like Conte, Meyer has spent so much time as a second banana that he hasn’t gotten around to releasing his own stuff; in fact this is his first solo album, and what a great one it is. It’s a gamma ray blast of shredding, glam, Iggy, Kiss, and, well, early Bon Jovi, a ferocious uncorking of ’70s-’90s testosterone that’s (all together now) the sort of thing the current dystopian zeitgeist needs. Absolutely nothing bad here. A+ —Eric W. Saeger
G. Himsel, Songs of Doubt & Despair (Sedan Is Real Records)
You probably won’t remember this, but exactly three years ago I wrote up Manchester, N.H., folk revivalists Bird Friend, which featured this fellow and his girlfriend Carson Kennedy trying out some rather adventurous Woody Guthrie-steeped stuff. What made it seriously notable was the liberal use of random sound samples that evoked 1930s train stations, rainstorms, things like that. He’s up in Portsmouth, N.H., now, more pessimistic than he was before, still obsessed with the sound of the Dust Bowl era and such; these tunes range from the “gospel and old-country balladry of the 1800s to the coffee shop folk of 1950s New York,” meant as harbingers of what climate change is bringing us all in the far future (and the present day, as in the case of areas of Pakistan where wet bulb temperatures can already suffocate a person to death within a couple of hours, just sayin’). The songs were recorded at his kitchen table, not that it shows; this time he’s more focused on antiquities than jazzing them up with natural sound effects, his own missives to a species in deep peril. Other than that it’s an upbeat record of course, don’t get me wrong. A+ —Eric W. Saeger
Playlist
• A brand new pile of CDs will be dumped on humanity this Friday, Feb. 7, the date that marks the 61st anniversary of The Beatles’ British Invasion, when the Fab Four landed in New York City for their first U.S. concerts! Two nights later, Beatlemania stormed America, when their performance on the Ed Sullivan show was “watched by 73 million viewers” (mostly it was bots run by the record company of course). Now, if you were age, say, 60 back then, you were confused and not sure what to make of all the hubbub, because the music of your youth was made in the 1920s and 1930s, by people like Al Jolson, the Billy Hays Orchestra and all the other bands that recorded their music using “a single microphone, a towering 6-foot amplifier rack, and a live record-cutting lathe, powered by a weight-driven pulley system of clockwork gears.” In other words, it was like a glorified grandfather clock that only worked for a short time: The musicians had roughly three minutes in which to record a song directly to disc, hopefully without any foul-ups, before the weight hit the floor. Of course, The Beatles had modern analog technology and saved us from all that cringe by recording three-minute lovey-dovey songs that featured Chuck Berry guitars being played aggressively, sort of like Metallica would have if they hadn’t all been playpen-dwelling infants at the time, and voila, rock ’n’ roll had arrived to change the world! That brings us to the here and now, after however many years of advancement in recording techniques, with U.K.-based post-punk band Squid, whose new concept-ish album, Cowards, cleverly eschews lovey-dovey Al Jolson piffle and focuses instead on an obscure dystopian Splatterpunk sci-fi novel, about institutionalized wide-scale cannibalism, how rock ’n’ roll can you get! The novel in question, Tender Is The Flesh, was panned by one Redditor as being “the worst horror book I’ve ever read by far,” but did that stop the bandleader guy from Squid? Nope, the single is titled “Crispy Skin,” and it sounds like Devo doing a joke version of a speed-rockin’ Hall & Oates song, like “Maneater,” but really stupid and pointless, doesn’t that sound gooood? Pitchfork Media thinks so, of course!
• Krept & Konan is a British hip-hop group whose haters are starting to pile up at the gates. Most of those are incensed over the fact their new album, Young Kingz 2, caters to American tastes, which is definitely true of the new single, “Low Vibrations,” what with its uneventful trappy beat and boring flow. Naturally, the haters aren’t as angry about the yawn-inducing music as they are triggered by the fact that the crew bought into a supermarket chain and are presenting it as a Black-owned business when it’s actually owned by another minority, which we won’t get into here because who even cares about silly beefs anymore.
• You remember Boston-based progressive-metal band Dream Theater, right? Well, don’t look at me, because I can’t erase those memories, but their new one, Parasomnia, is here! “Midnight Messiah” is basic Slayer-tinted epic-metal oatmeal, and ha ha, the video for the tune has a guy in the audience who looks like the skinny blond guy from the X-Files’ Lone Gunmen! This column is writing itself these days, fam!
• Lastly and definitely leastly, it’s Guided by Voices, the band led by Dayton, Ohio’s pride and joy, Robert Pollard, who just can’t stop making albums! Universe Room, his 41st album, features “Fly Religion,” whose first part is decent, but then he adds some other silly parts and it sort of flops like a failed Teardrop Explodes experiment. —Eric W. Saeger
Featured Photo: Frank Meyer, Living Between The Lines (Kitten Robot Records) and G. Himsel, Songs of Doubt & Despair (Sedan Is Real Records)