Category: Albums

Justin Courtney Pierre, Permanent Midnight (Epitaph Records)

If you’re going to sound like a male version of Mazzy Star — I mean the full Monty of that vibe, the aural equivalent of sipping a vodka drink while floating around in a luxury pool and feeling the tremors as the earth collapses — your lyrics might as well be so maudlin and psychologically adrift that people would worry about you a bit if they cared enough to try to grok your intentions (not that I detect any in the tune we’re discussing right now, “Used To Be Old School,” other than reflections on trite, Freudian little boyhood/adulthood reminiscences, but whom did that ever stop?). On and on Pierre warbles in his helium falsetto throughout the opening track of this listenable-enough five-songer, after which he tables a bunch of mid-Aughts noise-ish rock recalling Dandy Warhols and all that, exploring aging, fatherhood, family, longing and whatnot. Nothing wrong here, but by the same token there’s nothing that hasn’t been attempted by literally thousands of bands. A

Various Artists, This Ain’t Your Mama and Papa’s Holiday Music: A Compilation of Holiday Favorites for the Weirdo in Your Life (Island House Recordings)

You have about 20 seconds left to get this downloaded and prettily packaged so you’ll have a nice, edgy, indie collection of holiday tunes for your edgy indie holiday feast, which, if you’re like most people trying to get by during this corporate-greed jubilee that’s being blamed on “inflation,” will consist of buns, with actual hot dogs if you’re lucky. I got dragged into this set of 17 songs when someone clued me in to an upcoming EP from the New York City-based Royal Arctic Institute, a five-piece all-instrumental band that contributes to this compilation a sloshy, dreamy version of “Christmastime Is Here,” you know, the maudlin melody from the old Charlie Brown Christmas cartoon. It’s fine for what it is, but there are plenty of edgy indie things from which to choose here: a giggling, sample-soaked “Deck The Halls” from Synthetic Villains that didn’t upset my stomach, and so on. I’m already out of room for this shtick, but do keep in mind that all the proceeds from this one go to benefit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, so you should buy it just to be nice. A

Playlist

• Icky and gross, it’s the least wonderful time of the year, because as far as I can tell, there are almost no new albums due out tomorrow, Dec. 30, a Friday, which is of course the traditional day of the week on which to release new albums. Let’s face it, the holidays are over, no more plastic Halloween skulls everywhere, the Thanksgiving-flavored turkeys are all eaten up, Christmas and all its good will toward people and whatever is but a memory, and all that’s left is New Year’s Eve, the night we married couples stay up late to watch a bunch of people who’re immune to frostbite make out in Times Square after an electronic ball drops, and then, if we have any brain function remaining, we stay up another 15 minutes to catch up with all the latest new corporate rock acts (“Wow, honey, I didn’t know Florida Georgia Line actually had a catchy song!”). Then, of course, we ceremoniously clink our Coke glasses together and try to herd the cats up to bed. See, that’s what happens when you grow up enough to realize that New Year’s Eve is a plot to sell you cheap liquor, and that nothing really magical ever happens on that holiday, that is unless you get engaged to someone you can actually deal with as the clock strikes Bedtime. Have you ever gotten engaged on New Year’s Eve and broken up with that person two months later? I have. Have you ever gone bar-hopping and been stuck driving in a car when the clock struck midnight? I’ve done that one too. They should make a movie about New Year’s Eve that exposes the potential horror of it, like someone being stuck in an Uber at the stroke of midnight and they get sent back in time to the day before Thanksgiving, and they have to relive the whole holiday season, and if they don’t get it right and have an incredible moment of New Year’s Eve wonderfulness in which they smooch with their Twitter crush or whatever, they have to go back and do it all again. No? What about if there are velociraptors to deal with too?

• OK, I have no bloody idea what I’m going to do to fill the remainder of this space. Want to hear about the worst-ever meal I cooked on New Year’s Eve, of course you do, one time I was dating a vegetarian and I spent the entire day of New Year’s Eve making this disgusting tempeh-meatball dish with sauerkraut. The recipe required all sorts of stupid ingredients, like ginger root and sesame oil, all sorts of things that would have been great by themselves but which together made for a dining experience so unpleasant that I should make a short horror story out of it, to horrify people. But oh look, I’m saved, because some U.S. band called Bandit is releasing an album of “grindcore” (actually overly polished emo) tuneage, titled Siege of Self, on — oops, it was Dec. 29, but close enough. It’s stupid, and everyone’s calling it a worthless pile of Pig Destroyer worship. In other words, the only people who might like it are grindcore dudes who’ve never heard Pig Destroyer before. (No, don’t bother.)

• On New Year’s Eve day, some American metal band called Bayonette will release a new single called “Grógaldr.” No one knows anything about it, not even the Album Of The Year site, which means either that it doesn’t exist or that the band doesn’t understand that record releases need to be announced so that people know they exist. I don’t care what the case is, let’d just wrap up this dumb year with one more thingie.

• Finally we have DaniFighter, apparently a Turkish artist who, like Bayonette, has absolutely no idea how to announce an album. This dude has been known to put out Gorillaz-influenced noise-hip-hop that really sucks, and his new album/EP, Lecsavarlak, will be out this Friday, Dec. 30. Have a great New Year, folks!

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Sarah Pagé, “Méduses” [single] (Forward Music)

You might remember this Montreal, Canada-based harp-experimentalist from her 2019 album Dose Curves, or, more likely of course, not, but as avant-music goes, this is something that might interest you, as she’s been working on a new record titled Voda, and this single is intended as a teaser for that. This bizarre piece features cellist Vera Ronkos, bassist Jonah Fortune, and Pagé on bowed harp, all working to create a sound triangulation that bespeaks weird undersea goings-on. “Méduses” is French for jellyfish, and they’ve nailed the vibe, I’d say; the seven-minute study shimmers and floats like an incidental bit that escaped from the soundtrack for The Abyss, if you remember that movie. The album will include a limited-edition set of art prints comprising “a visual for each movement of the album, along with album credits and interpretive texts.” I know I’ve written up a good chunk of oddball ambient music on this page over the years, but very few have been so, well, accurate as this. Gets a little gloomy here and there, but it’s pretty friendly drone overall. A

Nyte Skye, Vanishing (Sonic Ritual records)

This northern California-based shoegaze/’80s-technopop duo is a father-and-son band in the most endearing sense of the phrase: It consists of vocalist-guitarist-dad Nyles (who came to this project after a stint with psychedelic-shoegaze band Film School, which released a good handful of records in their day) and his son Skye, who was 12 when this album was recorded. Admit it, that’s kind of cute, and the kid does like to take glam shots while wearing knockoff Ray-Bans, but the punchline is that they do look like some kind of quintessential ’80s band. That fits, given that dad Nyles is an unabashed Cure fan, as most of these tunes would attest. And we’re talking early Cure, too, the stuff that was on Standing On A Beach. But the beats aren’t about the old-school 16-bit drums Robert Smith favored; somewhere along the line, young Skye found an old Slingerland marching drum from the 1930s, which makes for some pretty wide timekeeping sounds. Anyone who loves ’80s stuff, this is all you. A

Playlist

• So this is Christmas, and what have I done? Another year older, and there’s more snark to come. You know? Hey gang, I’m supposed to talk about albums coming out on Dec. 23, because it’s a Friday, but guess what, there aren’t any! Yes, this week’s pretty much a wash, I doubt there’ll be many albums to talk about, but do any of you older people remember Gail Savage, the seacoast New Hampshire singer who used to play Pat Benatar cover tunes in all the local bars during the 1980s? Well, the other day, I accidentally found out she lives forever on YouTube, like, she recorded an EP with her long-haired androgynous tattooed love boys in 1985, titled Swedish Eyes (can I get a nudge-wink?), and it really wasn’t all that bad at all. In fact, the four songs were actually kind of good! She played basically every weekend at local places like the Kahala restaurant in Nashua and the Meadowbrook in Portsmouth, and all that stuff, and she sounded exactly like Pat Benatar. Oh come on, boomers and Gen X-ers, don’t look at me like “Hurr durr, geez, Eric, I have no idea what you’re talking about, I had chores to do at my family’s chicken farm, and I sure wasn’t out and about at all those rock clubs, with all that sin, and girls who looked and sang exactly like Pat Benatar!” Riiight, if you so much as set foot in New Hampshire during the ’80s, you couldn’t help knowing about her! If you ever stayed up past your bedtime, you probably heard her singing someplace, like, she and her band were probably singing some awful Steve Winwood cover tune while you were trying to eat your chicken wings or eggs Benedict at Howard Johnson’s, or — what’s that, you’ve never heard of Howard Johnson’s? It had an orange roof. Not a typo. Anyway, Gail Savage, everyone, the former queen of New Hampshire’s rock ’n’ roll scene. I’d love to dish some info about her current whereabouts; some former guitarist of hers is on some music-gear chat site, and I asked him where she was, but he never wrote me back (yes, he dared to ignore me) and no one else seems to know. Boy, it’s too bad clubs are no fun anymore, like, I went to one in Manchvegas a while ago and everyone was just standing around playing with their phones, except once in a while someone would start getting all weird and loud and performative, like they owned the place. Well, I suppose some things never change then, am I right? Someone please kindly get in touch with me this instant if you know where she is, that’d be great.

• Oh, the horror, what do we even have to talk about in this column this week? Ack, Weezer put out an album titled SZNZ: Winter a few days ago, but I can’t really deal with millennial-centric nerd-rock right now, folks, I just can’t. Let’s not. Wait, here’s one, from Viper The Rapper, called You’ll Cowards Don’t Even Smoke Crack II, but guess what, it comes out on Christmas Day. Whatever, there’s the title track on YouTube, and it’s such a funny song, ha ha, listen to this guy, sounding like Biggie after guzzling an entire gallon of Robitussin. This may be the most awesome thing I’ve heard this year. Merry drugs, everyone!

• We’ll end this week’s torture with Sonic Speed’s Sweet And Subtle Toxins, which looks like another hip-hop album. Funny, it used to be that the only things I had to write about during the Friday closest to Christmas were metal albums, but nowadays it’s hip-hop. This one comes out on Christmas Eve, and their Bandcamp page is useless, but I found one older Sonic Speed tune on YouTube. It sounds homemade, and they admit the band is a joke band, but it’s awesome, Kool And The Gang meets Usher or something, probably produced for free using a Disney Princess beat from a Fisher Price toy gizmo.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Wolfgang Haffner, Silent World (BMG Records)

Jumping the gun a bit on this one, as it’s not out until the end of January, but it’s worth knowing about if you’re a jazzhead on a budget. German drummer and bandleader Haffner is a dreamer in sound whose real gift is being able to combine groove and bounce with a wide sound palette comprising cool jazz, tango and other Spanish flavors, all brought together in a unique way that creates a special kind of tension. In recent times, Haffner has drawn inspiration from external sources: lots of guests here, the constants being Simon Oslender (piano and keyboards) and Sebastian Studnitzky (trumpet); Haffner claims it’s his “dream band,” and I’m in no position to argue the point, given that the result is indeed rather sweeping. The record is claimed to be conceptual, nine pieces whittled down from 18 songs Haffner originally wrote for it; it progresses nicely from the sturdy “Here and Now” until the finale, “Forever and Ever,” a minimalist (but not entirely morose) number made of piano and bass. A

Fire Sale, “A Fool’s Errand” / “We Dance For Sorrow” (Negative Progression Records)

Here we go, more emo. This four-piece band is said to be a punk rock supergroup, but if you don’t mind my pedantry, it’s a power-pop thing, which, as I’ve said many times, isn’t quite the same level of scatterbrained derangement as actual punk. It all sounds the same to me, only because I don’t really care about it and never really have. But I’ll belay all that for our purposes and point out that this two-song dry run pulls out all the stops in trying to put the Negative Progression label back on the map, after the owner of the imprint (which hosted a stage on the 2003 Vans Warped Tour and released 30 albums) decided to bag it eight years ago to work as an attorney (well isn’t that the punkest, am I right?). The bass player is from Face To Face, and the other guys were in The Ataris and Ann Beretta, and it’s quite listenable for what it is. Whoever’s singing on the B-side, “We Dance For Sorrow,” has a leathery, sturdy voice that evokes old post-punk stuff like Lords Of The New Church, while “A Fool’s Errand” is Black Flag-speed Hoobastank-ish and very catchy. I don’t hate these guys at all. A

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• Dec. 16 looms over my head like one of those “dementor” bros from Harry Potter, just swinging his arms and hollering all ghostly or whatever dementors do, and of course also reminding me that Dec. 16 is the last general-release Friday for new albums before the holiday week, when there will basically be no new albums, so I’ll have to make something up. Actually, now that I’m looking at this mess, there’s not a lot of albums coming out this week, and I will have to scrounge. Ah, here’s one, the latest release from Circa Survive, titled Two Dreams, their first full-length since 2017’s The Amulet. None of that means anything to me. All I know is that Circa Survive is an emo band from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, which means they’re batting with two strikes right off the jump here. They’ve been around for a while now; their first album, Juturna, did have some screamy tunes, like “Act Appalled,” which did point to a slightly more-melodic-than-usual flavor of nerd rock — OK, it was pretty cool, is what I’m trying to say, but I still hear it all the props I dropped on Good Charlotte for whatever the song was, so let’s just keep it between ourselves, whattaya say. OK, so the new record — wait a second, hold it, late breaking, from some website that knows things (nme.com): “After months of rumors, Circa Survive have confirmed to fans that they’re no longer an active band.” Well there goes that, but Two Dreams is indeed due out on the 16th, and one of the tunes, “Sleep Well,” isn’t emo at all, more like early Hanson doing a slightly trip-hop thing that has lo-fi drums. It’s pretty good, and that’s probably why they broke up; it’s always risky to make good music, you know?

• Jonathan Blake Williams Jr., better known as Jabee, is a hip-hop artist and actor from Oklahoma City. Chuck D of Public Enemy and Sway Calloway both think he’s awesome, so I guess it’s OK for me to say he’s awesome, because, you know Chuck D is awesome. Anyway, this fella’s new EP, Good, will be in the stores and streaming services within the next few hours, standing as the newest EP in a series of them. Reaction has been mixed so far with adjectives like “nostalgic” and “unoriginal” being the most common when people discuss it. The track “Black Star” is stoner-mellow and pretty trippy beat-wise.

• In edgelady news, Mimi Barks is a U.K.-based trap-metal artist (originally from Berlin, Germany) who likes to pour on the anger in Slipknot-ish fashion. Other than that, there’s no information to be found on her on the entire internet other than the fact that she likes to change her day-glo hair color every few days or whatnot. Her new album, Deadgirl, has a title track that’s pretty much what anyone would expect “trap-metal” to sound like: She sings in a sort of Marilyn Manson style, and then there’s a standard trap beat that’s begging for attention from goths, some Death Grips-ish flourishes, things like that. Apparently she’s going on tour with goth dude Combichrist, a show I’d attend if it were a little more worth risking Covid and all that happy stuff.

• Finally we have Atlanta hip-hop crew Germ & $uicideboy$, whose favorite thing is to put people with really gross teeth on their album covers. The latest in their DirtyNasty series is a new album called Dirtiestnastiest$uicide, and yes, the cover is as disturbing as anything else they’ve pulled. Only thing to be found online is a live version of some tune that’ll be on this record, and it’s a lot like Beastie Boys, which I’m sure will bring ’em lots of underage customers.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

-(16)-, Into Dust (Relapse Records)

Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I covered a sludge-metal album, which is weird, because I usually get a lot of jollies out of that genre: usually you can count on hearing stuff that treads some sort of middle ground between Black Sabbath and Melvins, depending on whether or not the singer can actually sing at all. These guys are from Los Angeles, and this, their eighth album, is more or less a conceptual trip that revolves around living a generally miserable life, starting with “Misfortune Teller,” a borderline math-metal joint in which an eviction notice is served to some poor dude in the wake of Hurricane Irma; singer and second-banana guitarist Bobby Ferry does a pretty good Crowbar imitation, indicating that their template pays obeisance to the genre’s gold standards. “Dead Eyes” is good stuff too, aping the vibe of early Ministry; “Scrape the Rocks” shoots for doomy Kyuss respectability and largely succeeds. A

Journey, Freedom (BMG Records)

Didn’t get to this one when it first landed in my inbox in July, but as always, it’s a good bet that half the people who were big fans of this arena-rock band back in the day are totally unaware that they are still at it. Yes, the legend continues, after guitarist Neil Schon married the bleached blonde who, with a previous loverboy, had somehow crashed an Obama party when he was still president, and then there was the one about how, after singer Steve Perry had had enough of it, they hired a new singer after seeing him karaokeing Journey tunes on YouTube. I’ll gladly cop actually to liking some of the jacked-hormone stuff that was on their 2005 full-length album Generations, and there’s more of that here, with the morose-rockout-morose opening tune “Together We Run,” the Escape-microwaving sounds of “Don’t Give Up On Us,” and so on. No new tricks here, but that’s the punchline; when you’ve become an AOR meme band there’s no need to ditch the original formula. A

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• Yikes, Dec. 9 already, and me with a mere paucity of albums to talk about, because all the albums have already been released and are being loaded onto Santa’s magic sleigh, to be dropped off at the homes of people who still buy things like albums and asbestos flooring! But wait a minute, folks, there are actually a few new records that have hit my all-seeing radar, starting with NIKSHOWW, a rapper from someplace or other, Google only found like 100 things associated with the guy, but he’s obviously a highbrow bookworm type, as he was a feat guest on Fiction Fake’s “L. A. U. G. H (Laugh at Ugly Generic Hoes),” which, you can tell by the title, is commonly played at retired accountants’ 50th wedding anniversary bashes. Oh, who is this guy anyway, let’s just move this along, his forthcoming new album, Anxiety Ridden Isolationist, his second. Not a lot of info to be found on this album, but his latest song on Spotify, “Fatal Shot,” is okay once you get past the subtle-ish Autotune. The beat is comprised of gloomy piano and (spoiler) trap drums, and his flow is pretty cool even though his lines (sample lyric: “Everybody that’s in tune knows I’m in a different lane / I will fulfill my dreams of controlling center stage”) are kind of — OK, massively — contrived and old, like if people rapped in ancient Egypt, these are the kinds of rhymes they spat for the entertainment of mummies and whatever. But that’s OK!

• French Montana is a rapper from Morocco, or more specifically Casablanca, the largest city in Morocco, and I shall talk briefly about his new album, Coke Boys 6, here in my column. Feats will include Max B, D Thang, Cheese, Kenzo B and Stove God; it’s the sixth installment of his Coke Boys mixtape series, the first since 2020’s Coke Boys 5. Montana’s mushmouthed style is fun in its way; there’s a sample of “Money Heist Edition” on Instagram if you’re curious to hear how “underground” he is (not very, judging by the rather unadventurous 1970s girl-group-flavored beat.

• The Lumineers are an alternative folk band from Denver, Colorado. They enjoy such healthy pastimes as playing unnecessary cellos and wearing cabbie hats in order to hide bald spots or Martian antennae, whichever. The band’s principals are heavily into Top 40 radio regulars like Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan and Tom Petty, so, no there is no black metal or chopped-and-screwed sampledelia on this album, a 10th Anniversary Edition of their debut LP, The Lumineers, but I did check for that just in case. “Stubborn Love” is probably the most popular tune from this album, a loping number you probably mistook for an Arcade Fire B-side the first time you heard it; definitely a Tom Petty vibe going on there.

• We’ll wrap up the week with singer/actress and iconic punk fixture Nina Hagen, who will release her 14th album, Unity, this week! Fun fact, when Angela Merkel ended her 16-year chancellorship of Germany last December, she chose Hagen’s song “Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen (You Forgot the Colour Film)” as one of the three tunes to be played at her Großer Zapfenstreich military leaving ceremony. Yes, that’s what happens to old punks, they become the opposite of punk. The title track of this new album is a funky, Warhol-esque pastiche of “woke” epithets and bad singing, but don’t let that stop you.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Monster Magnet, Test Patterns: Vol. 1 (God Unknown Records)

Holy cats, a new Monster Magnet album, folks — there’s a jolt to the brain, isn’t it? They suddenly showed up from out of nowhere — a.k.a. Red Bank, New Jersey — working a noise rock angle that was, and I quote, “a cosmos away from the major-label, alternative rock boom that would suck the band into the shiny MTV world of the early to middle 90s.” In other words they were pretty useful, and antidote to all the Hawkwinds and Nirvana wannabes that made the 90s so useless, and this is more of the same, two versions of a 25-odd-minute-long fuzz-jam called “Tab.” The first version is a remix from 2021, pure Brian Jonestown Massacre meets Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky” but without any real musical purpose aside from being trippy, and then comes the original version, from a 1988 demo, which is virtually indistinguishable from the last 150-odd songs King Gizzard has put out this fiscal quarter. And here I’ll bet you’d thought these guys were gone forever, didn’t you? Weird, or what? B

The White Buffalo, Year Of The Dark Horse (Snakefarm Records)

When the pandemic put everyone in the entertainment business into stasis chambers, people did different things to stay sane. I know of two guys who picked up the drums just to stay sane, but this fellow here, Oregon-born Jake Smith, a guitarist by trade, picked up a synthesizer to make this LP, the follow-up to his 2020 full-length On The Widow’s Walk, more of a creative challenge as he “embarked on a voyage of discovery.” Well isn’t that special, and this isn’t a synth tour-de-force, but it does work in many ways, especially if you dug his early Americana-rock (he hates it when people call it that). The first tune, “Kingdom For A Fool,” begins with the same sleepy-but-buzzed-out vibe as Bread’s “Guitar Man,” but then it’s on, folks, Smith’s vocal tabling some unabashed rawk-melodics I wasn’t expecting at all. The sound is pretty full and rich as far as California-steeped radio-pop goes (he’s living in Cali these days, for the record), for example “C’mon Come Up Come Out” has a Red Hot Chili Peppers laziness to it, and if you like Beck, you’ll like a lot of this stuff. A

Playlist

• Land’s sakes, Jane, stop this crazy thing, we’re into the first week of December already, and there will be (I hope) a few new albums slated for release on Friday, Dec. 2. Ah, here’s a few of the little rascals, the first thing to which I’ll give a funny sideways look is (or course) a box set (because box sets and reissues make great holiday gifts for record collectors who already have everything they don’t need), specifically the big fat Sail On Sailor – 1972: Super Deluxe Box Set from the Beach Boys, who are celebrating their 60th year of making totally groovy music for Woodstock druggies or whatever their mission statement is. But now it’s time for today’s big reveal: I, multiple-award-winning music journo that I am, had no idea whatsoever that the Beach Boys were the ones who did that song in the first place. No, seriously, I’d always figured it had been some Chicago-wannabe 1970s band like Stealers Wheel, but no, it was the Beach Boys. I never really liked that song all that much, but you guys remember when it was playing over some scene in The Departed involving hams or whatever, and it was so edgy and cool? No? Well maybe you should go watch it again, just try to get past Jack Nicholson’s usual overacting and all that, it was a cool scene. And so on and so forth, this $120 heap of CDs and nonsense covers the Boys’ 1972 albums Carl And The Passions and Holland. Says here “This 6-CD set features a 48-page book with extensive liner notes, rare photos and more. The collection includes remastered versions of the original albums as well as outtakes and session highlights from the original Mount Vernon and Fairway EP from Holland, plus a previously unreleased concert from Carnegie Hall, 1972. Also included are dozens of studio and live additional tracks, sessions and alternate versions.” Yow, all I needed was a normal version of “Sail On Sailor,” but instead it’s basically a hilariously overpriced pu pu platter of mostly chicken fingers instead of the beef teriyaki strip I really only wanted in the first place. How do I shut this off?

• Los Angeles skate-punk veterans NOFX have been a thing since 1983, but they still know where to buy Day-Glo Hawaiian shirts, K-Mart cutoff shorts and all the other parts of their clown outfits, so here’s to those guys and their new album, titled Double Album! Wait a second, though, guys, wait a second, you’ll die when you hear this, are you ready? Right, it’s not actually a double album, just a single album, with 10 songs! The irony, I’m sorry, I’m really getting the vapors and need to lay down with my smelling salts, land’s sakes alive. So, whatever, appropriately enough, the test-drive single is called “Punk Rock Cliché,” and it’s pretty gosh darn cool if you don’t mind that the main riff is pretty much stolen from Thin Lizzy’s “Thunder and Lightning,” and the whole tune will be mistaken for a disposable Hoobastank filler song, but that’s the price of fame: help to invent a genre one year, and then watch as a bunch of 18-year-old scamps put you out of business. Seriously, how do you stop this crazy thing?

• St. Louis-based hip-hop producer/DJ/etc. Metro Boomin has only been around since 2009, but one of the first questions that comes up when you Google the guy is, “Is he retired yet?” Yes, that’s how ancient you are, I’m sorry for you. Heroes & Villains is his new record, and the beats are epic (but annoyingly trappy) in the single “Gods Don’t Bleed,” which features 21 Savage & Travis Scott. You might like it.

• We’ll end with Cleveland-bred techno-dude Galcher Lustwerk and his new 100% Galcher LP. “Put On” is a nice, hypnotic bit of mid-aughts deep house, unadventurous but perfect mall ambiance for chilling out to while your girlfriend tries on dresses she’ll regret buying.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Soen, Atlantis (Silver Lining Music)

With Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s traditional holiday tour coming soon, our thoughts turn of course not to Santa Claus and all that stuff but instead to progressive metal bands, like this Swedish one, which first hit the scene in 2004 as a “supergroup” consisting of former Opeth drummer Martin Lopez, ex-Testament bassist Steve Di Giorgio, Willowtree singer Joel Ekelöf and some dude named Joakim Platbarzdis on guitar. I don’t know if it’s still considered a supergroup, but they’re good, if you like epic prog-metal and whatnot, especially live albums from same, which is what this is. I don’t know how “live” this album actually is; if I’m reading this right, they just re-rubbed a bunch of their po-faced old stuff, opening the set with “Antagonist,” which is a lot more Scorpions than it is Megadeth. There’s a version of Slipknot’s “Snuff” added for variety, but most of the time it’s a mixture of different but usually depressing sci-fi-convention ambience. Is what it is. B+

Louis Armstrong, The Standard Oil Sessions (Dot Time Records)

Any list of the greatest jazz musicians of all time would automatically include Louis Armstrong, Jack Teagarden and Earl “Fatha” Hines. From 1948 through 1951, those three legends played as Louis Armstrong and His All Stars. Unfortunately they didn’t make many studio recordings, and most of the live recordings that have survived are in really bad shape. But on Jan. 20, 1950, Armstrong, Hines and Teagarden appeared in a San Francisco recording studio to record a number of songs for Standard Oil’s “Musical Map of America” program. Teagarden got to do his signature “Basin Street Blues” while Hines performed a show-stopping version of his “Boogie Woogie on St. Louis Blues.” But it was Armstrong who was in the spotlight throughout, in peak form vocally and especially on the trumpet, improvising completely different solos on “Muskrat Ramble,” “Panama,” “Struttin’ with Some Barbecue” and other signature numbers. “Classic” would almost be an insult; this is timeless stuff. A+

Playlist

• Great, here come the holidays, which means there’ll be barely anything for me to write about here in a couple of weeks, in this multiple award-winning column. But for now I am safe, because look at all these albums that you will be able to buy at Walmart or 7-Eleven or Petsmart, you know, anyplace that still sells albums! Look gang, can you even believe all these — oops, wait a minute, it’s Black Friday this week, and the next general-release date for albums is Nov. 25, so there’s no time to put out any new albums in time for the holidays, I’m in some hot water now, just great, holy catfish! Well, we’ll have to do something here, and you probably don’t want to hear about all the ins and outs of my last medical exam, so let’s ’ave a look at the new album by Stormzy, titled This Is What I Mean, coming out this Friday! This dude’s real name is Michael Ebenezer Kwadjo Omari Owuo Jr., and he is a British rapper, singer and songwriter who gained attention on the U.K. underground music scene through his Wicked Skengman series of freestyles over classic grime beats. Like everything else that’s grime-based, it was cool stuff, but what about this new record? I don’t know, let’s find out, shall we? The teaser single, “Hide & Seek,” is high-class stuff, kind of a cross between Seal and Drake, but with a humble, eminently British attitude that doesn’t rely on controversy or dissing someone else. Yes, folks, in other words it is doomed to eventual failure just because it’s good and decent and nice, you know how this goes by now.

• Marcus Paquin is a record producer/writer/multi-instrumentalist who has worked with Arcade Fire, The National, Stars, Raine Maida, Local Natives, basically any Canadian indie band that’s gotten on my nerves over the last 12 years. His new album is Our Love, and the single, “The Way Forward,” is likable enough, fronting your basic Bon Iver/Sigur Ros chill-tech-indie contrivances, but it’s OK. His vocals have a weird but not entirely unapproachable effect added in order to make them more awkward and anti-edgy, the sort of angle we’ve heard a million times by now, but there is indeed some epic-ness once you get to the chorus, where the vocal sound remains weird but actually works within the scheme of it. I dunno, an overproduced Gorillaz ballad would be similar; it’s not wildly addictive but a lot better than the recent things I’ve heard in this genre.

• Wait, ermagerd, looky over there, my little rascals, it’s an album on which we can just go to town and laugh our little tuchuses off, and bonus, it’s a holiday album! It’s 80-year-old pop-crooner Cliff Richard, who was once the most dreaded name in “rock ’n’ roll,” basically about as counter-culture as Lawrence Welk! Christmas With Cliff, his first holiday-themed album in 19 years, features 10 covers done by the only artist in the world to achieve Top 5 albums in eight consecutive decades! Includes classics like “Sleigh Ride,” “Joy to the World,” “Blue Christmas” and whatnot, as well as three original songs.

• We’ll finish this off and get to some serious drinking by talking about Glasgow-based goth-glam sextet Walt Disco and their new EP, Always Sickening, won’t that be terrific? There’s a cover of Stephanie Mills’ 1980 disco hit “Never Knew Love Like This Before,” but it’s super slow and weird, you’ll probably be like “I hate this,” just letting you know ahead of time. And there we are.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Enuff Z’Nuff, Finer Than Sin (Frontiers Music)

Early holiday present for me; new albums from long-irrelevant (at least in the U.S.) hair-metal bands basically write their own reviews after about a minute, unless there’s some smidgeon of off-kilterness present (there never is). This is another band I really never listened to, mostly because of their stupid name, but trust me, I’ve listened to plenty of hair-metal bands (and was in one back when I was a simply irresistible babe), so when I say really dumb band names said all there was to say about a hair-metal album, it’s true. These guys formed in Chicago and were known for their obligato power ballad “Fly High Michelle” (um, wow, this isn’t all that bad) and an obligato dance-metal tune, “New Thing” (well well, ditto). So yeah, singer Donnie Vie is gone; bassist Chip Z’Nuff runs the show now, “Intoxicated” is the obligato power ballad, “Catastrophe” is a decent midtempo rocker. It’s not bad, really, this stuff. The takeaway for me is that these guys did have the potential to become a hair metal Cheap Trick. Too bad about that dumb name. A+

Long Mama, Poor Pretender (self-released)

This Milwaukee-based band has gathered a relatable-enough bunch of tunes together for their debut album, its inherent humanness coming courtesy of singer Kat Wodtke, whose voice traverses the wintry border that separates Dolores O’Riordan from Natalie Merchant (which means it’s pretty thin, which I’d never noticed before). Standard guitar-bass-drums setup here, one that you’d picture floating the background to a k.d. laing record or something like that, but there’s also engineer Erik Koskinen, who added lap steel, electric guitar, and Wurlitzer. Don’t let the Wilco comparisons lead you into this if you happen to see any; it’s really pretty basic Americana-indie-pop, very light on the indie, although there are some punk-ish passages here and there, which is as advertised. The tunes benefit quite a bit from Koskinen’s seemingly ubiquitous steel guitar, leaving me wondering why he’s not a permanent member. Picture a country-fied 10,000 Maniacs and you’d be about there. A+

Playlist

• Uh-oh, look what’s coming, it’s Friday, Nov. 18, only like 10 seconds left for your holiday shopping before all the corporate music-streaming platforms and rock stars starve and become skeletons, all because you had to be all like, “It’s too commercial, what care I if the dude from Coldplay can’t buy his weekly Maserati?” Always thinking of yourself, do you know it’s Christmas, don’t be such a Grinch, holy crow! I mean it’s definitely a festive day for me, because look over there, it’s one of the favorite punching bags of rock ’n’ roll critics all over the world! Yes, I’m talking about none other than Canadian false-metal muttonheads Nickelback, with an album titled Get Rollin’, how could they have thought of such an original thing? Ha ha, you want to know something awesome, upjoke.com has a collection of the best Nickelback jokes, ready? “Fire alarms should just play Nickelback: Anyone who stays in the building deserves what they get,” and, “I can’t get over how cruel some people are. I had some Nickelback tickets on the passenger seat of my car, and I popped into the shop for just five minutes. When I came back, someone had smashed the window and left two more.” Now that is some good old down-home hilarity, isn’t it folks, but uh-oh, there are five or six dudes looking at me all mad right now, and they have mullets and knockoff WWE championship wrestling belts, so I reckon I’d better get a move on, huh? OK, moving on, there’s a video here for the new single “These Days,” look at them, the fellas are walking into someone’s garage, and there’s a lava lamp, a random first-generation Atari system, and now they’re playing, and it’s kind of a neo-country half-ballad that’s just lame and emo-y. It’s like they’re trying to be some sort of boy-band for soccer moms? I don’t know. Anyway, the ’Back is back folks, Nickelback, everyone.

• So I saw that Richard Dawson has a new album coming out called The Ruby Cord this Friday, and then I was like, wait, is he even alive anymore or is he hosting some bizarre version of Family Feud in heaven for the entertainment of all the angels and whatever. OK, I found a video trailer for something that will be on this album apparently, something called “The Hermit,” which is billed as “the trailer for the film,” which means that there will be a movie featuring this dude I guess — Wait a freakin’ minute homies, that isn’t Richard Dawson, it looks more like Ricky Gervais, help me, Hippo readers, I don’t know what I’m even looking at. He’s sleeping in some bed, and the music is sort of like an unplugged Red Hot Chili Peppers B-side but there’s no singing and — wait, some YouTube review says that the opening track for this album is 41 minutes long, I’ll be taking a hard pass there, like, if it’s all like this boring snippet I’d rather eat a bowl of crickets. Another few commentators on YouTube are warning that this dude is into some sort of weird evolutionary theory and he’s sort of insane. Let’s leave this all right here and get out while we can, whattaya say?

• Boy howdy, if there’s anyone who knows how to put out two or three albums every year just to get on my nerves with their bad singing and prehistoric hippie iconography, it’s Neil Young & Crazy Horse, and it’s time for a new one, World Record! Short and sweet: New single “Break The Chain” is like a basic Tom Petty song except the guitar has heavy distortion on it, and, you know, that voice. Aaaand we’re moving.

• Finally, let’s listen to “Denimclad Baboons,” from Röyksopp’s new album, Profound Mysteries III. It’s (spoiler alert) krautrock with some mid-Aughts-house and ’70s-radio-pop vibe. I pronounce it “Fine, whatever.”

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Hellsingland Underground, Endless Optimism (Sound Pollution Records)

So the deal with this album is it’s the latest from a bunch of old Swedish rock ’n’ roll guys who don’t care if you make fun of them for being old. They’ve done a ton of albums and have finally gotten tired of loud guitars, so they “decided to add more piano, synthesizers and atmosphere instead.” Admirable, isn’t it? And they wrote their press blurb sheet themselves, which is cool. Like, after a lot of blah blah blah, it says here, “We also fired our drummer Patrik Jansson, but found a new one in Johan Gröndal. He is fantastic.” So, yeah, I like these guys personally, and they admit to hating Mötley Crue, which means they’re normal, but is the music any good? Actually yes, yes it is, especially if you’re into Starz, Bowie, things like that, arena-rock tempered with honky tonk and such. They have my full blessings. A

Spell, Tragic Magic (Sound Pollution Records)

The core of this Vancouver, Canada-based throwback-prog-metal act is just two guys, guitarist Cam Mesmer and drummer Al Lester, although they’re supported here by an array of temps who should probably go permanent if they want this to be a serious project, just my two cents. Influenced by such bands as Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult, Rush and (purportedly) old-school Mercyful Fate, which is slightly hard to pinpoint here, but Triumph and Rush-style stuff isn’t. Some pretty different riffing here, odd time signatures, really good engineering values and all that; in fact this might have made something of a splash back in the days when a slightly occult-ish vibe was desirable. But it does get a little hokey when they’re phoning in some obvious filler (“Ultraviolet” for example, despite its being something of an apparent push track). But anyway, there you are, something that blows away bands like The Darkness without being too obvious about it. A

Playlist

• Ho ho ho, kiddies, there’s nothing like a little early holiday cheer, which will (hopefully) be provided this week by a bunch of new albums that are officially due out on Friday, Nov. 11! The biggest news this week is something for our mainstream rock fans out there, a new album from living fossil man Bruce Springsteen, called Only The Strong Survive! Here’s a fun fact: Did you know that Bruuuce’s guitarist Steven Van Zandt (also known as Little Steven or Miami Steve or That No-Neck Dude From The Sopranos) is from Winthrop, Massachusetts? See, you learn something new every week just by checking in here! Ack, ack, whatever, furball, here we go, another full length album of rock ’n’ roll from Bruuuce and his boyeez, I can’t wait to get disappointed by the latest rock music single from this working-class hero dude who could buy a few Hilton hotels out of the loose change in his couch, let’s go see what the hubbub is all about this time (which will hopefully be better than last time, lol, remember how much people hated that last album?). But wait a minute, folks, this first single, “Do I Love You,” is pretty cool overall, especially if you’re old and often enjoy 1960s girl groups like the Supremes. Ha ha, look at Bruuuce, getting’ down with the rock and soul, just cold partying while three sets of Josie And The Pussycats dancers rock out and dance to the brass and xylophone. I’m totally inspired, I have to admit, Bruuuce has finally given up the whole “political rock” nonsense, put down his guitar and accepted his role as a really white version of James Brown and plus girl dancers! Buy buy buy!

• Gold Panda is the stage name of English electronic record producer and songwriter Derwin Schlecker, who loves making weird electro music in genres that have short or non-existent shelf-lives, like “post dubstep” and “micro-house,” don’t you love it when techno dudes just make up a genre that might loosely describe their beats, which usually just come from random loops that came out of their playing with their ProTools or whatever for 10 seconds? But wait a minute, hold up homies, forget everything I just said because I’m listening to “The Corner” from the new Gold Panda album The Work, and it’s pretty usable and kind of neat or groovy or whatever they say nowadays. The beat is a trippy ’70s sample, sounds like, and the dude’s voice is a dead ringer for the singer from Pet Shop Boys.

• British singer Louis Tomlinson originally rose to fame as a member of the English-Irish boy band One Direction. Faith In the Future is his new album; “Bigger Than Me” is its tire-kicker single, basically Hoobastank without any training wheels (or originality for that matter, but it’s OK).

• We’ll end with certified weird person Jimmy Edgar, a conceptual artist and sound designer from Detroit, Michigan. This dude is influenced by minimalism, Yves Klein and Immaterialism, the doctrine that material things do not exist. Would that that were actually correct and this guy’s new album, Liquids Heaven, weren’t staring me in the face right now, but here it is, so let’s get this over with. Right, right, so the first “single” is “Slip n Slide,” a tattered electro mess with a lot of wub-wub vibe. Starts out kind of dumb but then becomes workable enough. If you like weird cyborg-pop patter this would be the place.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Brothertiger, Brothertiger (Satanic Panic Records)

If you were around in the late ’80s, you probably heard your share of corporate metrosexual chill-techno music by Tears For Fears, Scritti Politti, Spandau Ballet and all that junk, usually at the most inopportune times, like when you were stuck someplace where it was being played loud enough for you to hear it. No, I kid this kidder, because you could do a lot worse these days than this kind of thing, Perry Como makeout tunes for the generation who thought John Waters was the greatest filmmaker of all time. This guy — the mononymed Jagos, who’s done four other LPs with this project — has really nailed the vibe; there’s pretty, slick synth-cheese all over the place, as well as the staple fake-bell sounds that signified ’80s-pop more than basically anything else if you think about it. It’s all well done, the vocal lines smooth and low-slung. There’s no reason for this kind of music to exist in current-year, but it is what it is. A

Amanda McCarthy, “Lifeline” (single) (self-released)

When last we left this New Hampshire-based country-pop singer-songwriter, she’d released her 14-song debut LP Road Trip, which, now that I’m re-listening to it for the first time in forever, actually has almost a Christian-pop feel to it, but that’s probably mostly owed to my listening to a lot of church-rock nowadays for some reason. Anyway, she’s in Nashville or thereabouts now, shooting for the bigs, and to make it in the bigs, one needs big-sounding – and, yes, I hate this word as much as anyone — production. This song does have that, let’s get that out of the way; it’s got as much a Tegan and Sara feel as it does a slight Faith Hill twang to it. It’s a very catchy rock-ballad-ish tune, one she “tried to write for years,” so she says”… my brain kept coming back to this song.” Good thing it did. There’s nothing amiss here. A

Playlist

• Like Zippy The Pinhead always says: Yow, look at all the new CDs that are coming out! Yup, it’s a huge pile of new albums due out on Friday, Nov. 4, and the worst, I mean first, one is Aughts-indie stalwarts Phoenix, with their new album, Alpha Zulu! You know, back when I first started writing this column — before the Best Of New Hampshire CD Reviews award and the other one, I forget which it was — I was really intimidated by Phoenix and their musical meatloaf of Kaiser Chiefs and whatever else, like, it was kind of heavy but also kind of awkward and badly done, which was all the rage back then, so I had to watch what I said about them because I was afraid some 98-pound hipster with skinny jeans and a flavor-saver patch under his lips would tell my editor to fire me because I just wasn’t sufficiently plugged into the zeitgeist. Of course, the happy ending came years later, when music journalists who’d suffered under the whip of utterly incompetent Brooklyn scenesters who pretended to like bands like Pavement and Air — you know, the really bad stuff — finally decided enough was enough and that it was OK for us writers with a bare modicum of taste to admit that we couldn’t stand any of those bands. It was kind of organic for me, like, I had gotten to the point where I just couldn’t take it anymore and had started dragging some of them (ha ha, remember Snow Patrol, how they couldn’t quite write a song that Gin Blossoms wouldn’t laugh at? Write those weak, unsellable B-sides, Snow Patrol! Write!). OK, and whatever, I’ll go listen to this dumb Phoenix album so that you don’t have to. I assume they’ve improved by now, seeing as how they’ve had what, 15 years to think about all the damage they’d done to rock ’n’ roll? I have no expectations at the moment, I just hope it isn’t completely unlistenable, whatever it is — ah, there it is, the title track. Oh jeez, they’ve gone the Yo La Tengo/Chk Chk Chk route but (and you’ll never believe this) less interesting. Kind of mellow, a sneaky little hook in there halfway through the song, vibe with no purpose other than ordering avocado toast or something. Anyway, there you go, Phoenix, everyone.

• For whatever reason, some of you are really big into Queens Of The Stone Age and buy all their albums, and for that, they thank you, and you’ll want to know about Tropical Gothclub, the new solo album from QOTSA multi-instrumentalist Dean Fertita, streeting this Friday! This fellow also played with Dead Weather, so he’s supposedly seen Jack White eat an entire bag of Wendy’s hamburgers in one sitting, a story he can tell his grandchildren. I expect this will be a set of stoner-rock songs, given Fertita’s liking for stoner rock, but let’s do a quick CSI just to be sure. So the first single, “Wheels Within Wheels,” is, you guessed it, basically a QOTSA song, but with a more boneheaded, King Gizzard-ish psychedelic angle. Good lord, it’s noisy and pointless, I’m unimpressed but will admit it’s better than a lot of the trash out there.

• What in tarnation is the Ezra Collective, fam? I don’t know, I have no idea, let me Google it. Ah, OK, I get it, they’re a jazz band of some sort; their 2019 instrumental single “Quest for Coin” was premiered as a “Hottest Record in The World” on BBC Radio 1’s Annie Mac show. Where I’m Meant To Be, the new album, features the single “Life Goes On,” a weird but irresistible thingamajig combining breakbeat, ska and Fela Kuti. Simply too cool.

• We’ll wrap up this nonsense with Swedish folk-rock girls First Aid Kit’s new LP, Palomino! Not much to say other than if you ever wanted to hear a slightly depressing version of ABBA, you’ll love this. Great stuff.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Nelson, A Nelson Family Christmas (UME Records)

So glad to get the first holiday record of the season into the books, and this one is actually nice, if you like being in a good mood in front of a crackling fire, or eating Hobo Beans out of a can under the Interstate 93 overpass or whatever you’ll be doing this season. No, you’re not seeing things, this is indeed Matthew and Gunnar Nelson, the twin sons of Ricky Nelson, the same photogenic pair of boys who graced the post-hair-metal world with the marginal hits “(Can’t Live Without Your) Love and Affection” and “After the Rain,” the latter of which is the only one I remember at all, it was actually OK. This is a decent holiday album, no knuckleballs or weirdness, and it includes jangly, poppy, rather pretty versions of everything from “Jingle Bells” to “Joy To The World” to (really the only Christmas song I can stand anymore) “Holly Jolly Christmas.” Solid, nice, nothing wrong here. A

Peggy Lee, Norma Deloris Egstrom from Jamestown, North Dakota [50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition] (Capitol Records)

Odd little vintage curio here, the 50th anniversary release of the jazz-pop singer’s final album for Capitol Records, released in 1972. For the most part the tunes were bum-outs about love and loss and everything in between, including “Just for a Thrill,” “Superstar,” “The More I See You,” “I’ll Be Seeing You,” all made fascinating by her unique, somewhat low-throated warble. “Love Song,” a gently finger-picked number, was the biggest song on board; released as a 45-rpm single, it was a minor hit, spending four weeks on the Billboard Easy Listening chart and peaking at No. 34 in October 1972. It was also Lee’s last single for Capitol, nearly three decades after she released her first on the label. This set includes a 23-page booklet, annotated by Iván Santiago, featuring new interviews with Tom Catalano, Artie Butler and Brian Panella, as well as previously unseen photos from the 1972 recording session. A

Playlist

• It’s Halloween, baby, and new albums will hit the streets this Friday, Oct. 28!

We’ll go over And I Have Been, The latest full-length from U.K. singer-songwriter Benjamin Clementine first. He is billed as being “one of the great singer-songwriters of his generation, and the future sound of London,” although critics have had a hard time placing his music in any one genre. After listening to the new single “Genesis,” I’d categorize him as a trip-hop-infused Nick Cage, not that his voice is all that annoying but yeah, it kind of is. The song kind of rips off “House Of The Rising Sun,” and it looks like he’s dancing with his mom in the video, which is weird, but whatever.

• Canadian electro-pop band Dragonette is now a solo act consisting of singer Martina Sorbara, the daughter of a former Member of Provincial Parliament and Minister of Finance in Ontario. Now gather ’round, kids, this little story isn’t going to be about nepotism in rock ’n’ roll or government or whatever, it’s actually a sad tale of love gone horribly wrong, because Sorbara was originally married to the band’s bass player, Dan Kurtz, but that didn’t pan out so much, like maybe he said something inappropriate during some fundraising banquet for the Canadian Prime Minister or he used a salad fork instead of an actual normal fork to eat his royal poutine when the Pope or Finland’s Chancellor came to visit the Canadian White House or whatever they have in the frozen hinterlands of our “neighbors to the north.” And such and so, but the title track of this album, “Twennies,” is OK if you usually like mall-techno, it’s got sort of like an aughts-era Miss Kittin-style house groove, pretty harmless and unoriginal but it’s alright overall, bedroom vibe and all that, decent enough hook, etc.

• Yikes, it’s yet another album from Australian psychedlic-stoner freaks King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard! It wouldn’t be a normal week without a new album from these guys, you know? Ha ha, I can’t stand it, this is their literal fifth album of 2022, their 23rd overall, and it’s titled Changes. Boy, you have to admit, it’s a pretty smart gimmick, the whole idea of being in a band and putting out a bunch of albums, what madness is this, amirite? OK, whatever, it’s Halloween, so let’s go to the YouTube and find a video for one of these new songs and, like Frankenfurter said on The Rocky Horror Picture Show, see what’s on the slab! Ah, here’s one of their new rock ’n’ roll songs, “Oce V,” and uh-oh, look at this video, our boys are in Italy or some other country, whatever, and it looks and sounds like some goofy B movie from like 1971, like dig the funky beat! LOL, these guys are such stoners, if they had a time machine, they’d probably go back to the Jurassic age just so they could watch a velociraptor hatch out of an egg and put a little baseball cap on it, because randomness is so cool.

• We’ll end this week’s rundown with another Canadian indie musician, namely Dan Mangan, whose new album, Being Somewhere, is in the books as of this Friday! He’s done soundtracks scored for feature films (Hector and the Search for Happiness for one), as well as music for things you may have seen on Netflix and AMC. The first single is “All Roads,” which has the same kind of vibe as Modest Mouse’s “Interstate 8,” you know, quirky and half-plugged-guitar-y but not as stupid as Figurine or any of that garbage. Pretty boring, that’s it, folks, nothing much to see here, truth be told.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).