JoVia Armstrong, Antidote Suite (Wild Kingdom Records)
The term Afrofuturism — referring to a “cultural aesthetic and philosophy of science and history that explores the intersection of African diaspora culture with science and technology” — was coined by culture critic Mark Dery, an on-again/off-again friend-acquaintance who’s been mad at me for like a year because I clumsily made fun of him on Twitter for his nerdy distaste for sports. Speaking of clumsy, the genre definition offered above — can’t we just say Afrofuturism is Black cyberpunk culture? no? — is a bit misleading as pertains to this album, which, if it’d come from anyone whose musical career hadn’t been borne of a, well, too-academics-driven approach to a life’s mission of spreading awareness about Black struggle in the Information Age, would be immediately classified as chilly, often beautiful but not earth-shakingly original soundscaping. Guests include bassist Isaiah Sharkey, guitarist Jeff Parker, vocalist Yaw Agyeman and rapper Teh’Ray Hale. There’d be no earthly reason for me not to recommend this to anyone; lots of interesting genre-mixing here. A+
Sator, Return of The Barbie-Q-Killers (Wild Kingdom Records)
Here we go, just what I needed right now, an old-school punk band from Sweden. And I do mean old-school; they’ve been together since 1981, originally under the moniker Sator Codex, which points to the Throbbing Gristle/Cabaret Voltaire niche they cite as an influence. Other than that, the record collections of the members’ youth were pretty standard: Motorhead, Chuck Berry, Ramones, Clash and such. Doesn’t matter, though. There are 24-count-’em songs crammed into this release, with most of the songs clocking in at around two minutes, which put it at an A grade before I even listened to any of it. The music is a blur of Misfits/Ramones gloriousness, opening with a punkabilly-tinged “Get Out Of My Way”; a Lords Of The New Church-sounding “Shimmy Shake,” even an obvious nod to New York Dolls in “Pumps, Purse And A Pillbox Hat.” From my seat there’s nothing wrong with this album whatsoever. A+
Playlist
• Gross, it’s freakin’ August already, it’s just going to be hot and insane out and then we’ll have those perfect September days with blue skies and a tinge of autumn in the air. So pleasant and nice, I hate it so much, but it’s on the way, and our first order of August business is to talk about the albums that’ll be in the stores and Pirate Bays and virus-slathered darkweb cubbies on Aug. 5. I usually try to get the least pleasant stuff out of the way first, and this week that’s definitely overrated Scottish club DJ Calvin Harris’s new album, Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 2. No, I’m not saying I mindfully loathe Harris; it’s just that when my journalistic beat was the velvet-rope techno-club scene, Harris was one of those tedious funk guys, and he bothered me the same way Steve Aoki did. Not enough progressive house in his mix, is what I mean; I really prefer progressive house over regurgitated Chicago-style house, which is too heavy on the disco (think Madonna’s “Vogue” for reference’s sake). OK, you’re staring at me wondering what I’m talking about, as if I even know; suffice to say that I’d rather listen to a deep house genius like King Britt than a lowbrow slob like Calvin Harris. And now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, you know what’ll happen next, I’m going to go listen to Harris’s new single “Potion” and it’ll actually be OK. But I doubt it; guest vocalists for this album include ridiculously overexposed lummoxes like Justin Timberlake, Halsey and Snoop Dogg, and — wait, here’s the video for “Potion.” It features corporate-pop diva Dua Lipa with Young Thug, and — yup, there it is breezy after-party music that’s too loud and in-your-face for an after-party. Yuck, it’s too disco-ey, possessed of basically no class. My God, my life would have been so much easier if I’d been born the type of imbecile who’d prefer this over Oscar G or whatever. No one should listen to this song, period. It’s got the vibe of the typical soundtrack to a 1970s porno movie. Barf barf barf.
• Uh-oh, look sharp everyone, it’s British sort-of-tech-metal heroes Kasabian, with The Alchemist’s Euphoria, their new album! If you’re wondering, yes (I just found this out for sure), they were named after Linda Kasabian, the former Charles Manson groupie, isn’t that special, and for the record, everything I’ve heard from them to date has been pretty cool. That brings us to the here and now, with a new song called “Scriptvre,” a noisy, trashy joint that’s a cross between Rage Against The Machine and Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Give It Away.” Definitely something of a ’90s-rock-revival persuasion, which, let’s face it already, isn’t the worst thing that could happen, being that the current ’80s rebirth is well past its sell-by date.
• Blah blah blah what else — ah, here’s one, a new album titled All 4 Nothing, the second album from Lauv, a.k.a. Ari Staprans Leff, a San Francisco-born singer-songwriter! With a title as stupid as All 4 Nothing I’d expected the title track to dredge up memories of Marky Mark or something equally hideous, but it’s not quite that bad, that is unless the thought of an Auto-Tuned Peabo Bryson makes your stomach a bit unstable. Nothing to see here, folks, just a smooth bedroom beat, a millennial whoop thrown in to stupid-check Leff’s target audience, etc. It’s listenable.
• We’ll end with a new live album from ancient folk-pop mummy and dreadful singer Neil Young, Noise & Flowers, I can’t wait, can you? All I know right now is there’s a live version of the tune “From Hank To Hendrix” that’s pretty good if you can get past that wounded-possum voice of his, ack ack.
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).