CD Reviews: The Pipettes, Beirut, Sunset Rubdown And More!
Tuesday October 02, 2007 @ 03:00 PM
By: ChartAttack.com Staff

DEVENDRA BANHART Smoky Rolls Down Thunder Canyon (XL/Beggars)
Devendra Banhart is undoubtedly a gifted musician and I'm not troubled by the arguably pretentious inclusion of songs in five different languages on one LP. This is a Banhart record, after all. What bothers me is his self-concious adherence to the cult of Devendra Banhart. It's frustrating because when he doesn't overthink things, he's capable of some amazing, genre-bending folk-rock. Case in point, the insidiously catchy "So Long Old Bean," where his echo-laden vocals waver to and fro with the irreverent sensibility of a spaghetti western. The cheekily titled "Shabop Shalom" shimmies up and down, revelling in its doo-wop appropriation absurdity. But he falters with the pedantic and meandering "Rosa" and the gospel-inflected "Saved." If Banhart could capture his freewheeling, free-flowin' live show and translate it into a cohesive record, we'd all be much better off. Matt Littlefair

BEIRUT The Flying Club Cup (Ba Da Bing/Outside)
Beirut have managed to faithfully capture the endless romanticism of the most romanticized country on the face of the planet in 13 tracks and 38 minutes. After the widespread embrace of last year's eastern European gypsy-folk inspired opus, Gulag Orkestar, Zach Condon cast a large shadow. By shifting focus west to the bustling metropolises and verdant fields of turn of the century France, Beirut have deftly made their way into the sunlight. With gilded melodies driven by lolling keys, a quixotic brass section and string arrangements courtesy of Owen Pallett, the group's sound is somehow both densely complex and light as air. Whether it's the note-perfect evocation of a red wine-soaked twilight stroll by the Seine on "Sunday Smile" or a tribute to a calamitous relationship on "Cliquot," Beirut have matured with a self-assured grace that leaves no doubt that Condon's well beyond the reach of even his shadow's shadow. Matt Littlefair

BLACK FRANCIS Bluefinger (Cooking Vinyl)
After going by Frank Black for his previous solo albums, the Pixies frontman has gone back to the name he used with that seminal band. On a few tracks, including album opener "Captain Pasty" and lead single "Threshold Apprehension," he's also returned to a more rocking and aggressive sound. Other songs, however, could have fit comfortably on more recent solo outings. "Test Pilot Blues" is a little less frantic, Francis plays harmonica on the jaunty acoustic-based pop tune "She Took All The Money," and "Discotheque 36" is much rootsier than its title would suggest. Bluefinger was inspired by Dutch musician and painter Herman Brood, and "Angels Come To Comfort You," with propulsive drumming from Jason Carter, is an ode to the man. There's also an excellent cover of Brood's "You Can't Break A Heart And Have It." Throw some harmonies from Francis' wife Violet Clark into this mix and you have an album that should appeal to fans of all phases of this man's often-brilliant career. Steve McLean

BLUE RODEO Small Miracles (Warner)
A Blue Rodeo record is essentially a two-for-one deal. The tug-of-war between Jim Cuddy's and Greg Keelor's interests is just as evident on Small Miracles as its ever been, effectively dividing the disc into two distinct halves. As is usually the case, it's Cuddy's vocal tracks that stand out. While he wanders into the occasional ballad, the songwriter is more than content to stick to the self-reflective pop he's been leaning on for years, drifting from the beach party fun of "Mystic River" to the undeniably attention-catching "C'mon." While fans will likely find something to love in Keelor's meandering tunes as well, his vocal turns are the LP's most disappointing. Truth be told, the last time I heard someone say they really liked a Keelor song was my mom after she had a few. That said, Small Miracles is certainly no misstep by this band's standards and will make a welcome addition to their catalogue. Blue Rodeo still know how to put a song together. Scott Bryson

THE CULT Born Into This (Roadrunner/Universal)
The lead-off title track to The Cult's ninth studio album starts by unfurling a heady rhythm track similar to "The Witch" before a snarling guitar line kicks in and well-placed woo-hoos make you recall the Stones' "Sympathy For The Devil." It's all incredibly familiar, but that's the point. The Cult's greatest successes have always come from cribbing other, slightly better rock moments, and this is no different. There's more from the Stones playbook in the "Undercover Of The Night" lick on "Dirty Little Rockstar" and the intro to "I Assassin" could've been stripped straight from Rush's "2112." The low points come when The Cult try to diversify. Ian Astbury's turn as a crooner in "Holy Mountain" is somewhat unfortunate, but he at least makes up for it by going back to the power rock formula ballad of "Tiger In The Sun." Thankfully, the band mostly stick to hard-nosed and fast-paced and avoid sounding soft. No doubt there are younger, nastier, more vicious and more rocking records and bands out there right now, but for a pack of old-timers still aspiring to bang it out, Born Into This is surprisingly vital. Aaron Brophy

DRAGONETTE Galore (Mercury/Universal)
This is what happens when a Canuck folk singer and electro artist — both toiling in the semi-obscurity — get married, move to the U.K., form a band and decide to go totally commercial while having as much fun as possible. Martina Sorbara reinvents herself as a naughty pop tart while hubby Dan Kurtz (The New Deal) along with Will Stapleton and Joel Stouffer, lay down dangerously catchy electro pop beats in the same vein as Gwen Stefani or "Toxic"-era Britney Spears with nods to '80s chart-toppers Pat Benatar and Olivia Newton-John. Dragonette's lyrics celebrate promiscuity and bad behaviour — the hallmark of any music that's fun to dance to. The undeniably addictive "Competition" will get even the most jaded of club-goers on the floor. Shannon Whibbs

THE PIPETTES We Are The Pipettes (Cherrytree/Interscope/Universal)
Finally released in North America, We Are The Pipettes is the most perfect piece of pop you'll hear this year. Distancing themselves from the automatic '60s girl group revival tag by adding a noticeable indie-rock twist to their songs, foxy lead ladies Becki, Rosay and Gwenno and their all-male backing band The Cassettes manage to squeeze in anthemic dance floor crashers ("Pull Shapes"), sweet and heartbreaking slower numbers ("A Winter's Sky"), and wickedly sassy rockers about bitchy bullies, one-night stands and uptight boys. The two keyboard-happy bonus tracks included on the North American version only prove the band have an endless amount of pop tricks to supply. With their randy English accents in tow and distinct personalities up front, The Pipettes aim for a catchy-as-hell sound on this debut. Those who choose to look any deeper into it are missing out on one of today's most refreshing pop bands. Phil Villeneuve

SUNPARLOUR PLAYERS Hymns For The Happy (Baudelaire/Outside)
Toronto-based trio Sunparlour Players self-released Hymns nearly a year ago, but by no means is it the same record as this, their first proper label issue. While retaining the same gruff edges that make the Players so entrancing to watch live, revamped arrangements have added a smack of shine and made Hymns more expansive. The Players' gut-bucket country twang is seated in an old school rock aesthetic. Though sometimes mired in that same rock ethos ("Dyin' Today"), the band excel on "If The Creeks Don't Rise," a stunning elegy of a farmer's tenuous relationship with his land. Andrew Penner's ability to effortlessly shift from a menacing growl to a lilting, but roughed-up tenor seeps into every crack and crevice on the LP and is the natural adjunct to the textured instrumentation. Hymns is a riveting collection of country punk that just about approximates their raucous shows. Matt Littlefair

SUNSET RUBDOWN Random Spirit Lover (Jagjaguwar)
Where do you start with Spencer Krug? Known for his distinctively haunting vocal delivery and a propensity for musical experimentation, the Wolf Parade keyboardist and singer/songwriter is a bit of a wild card. Though he toned down the lo-fi minimalism that defined the early Sunset bedroom recordings for last year's propulsive Shut Up I Am Dreaming, he's veered back in that direction for Random Spirit Lover. For Krug, accessibility seems like a most daring sort of experimentation, which is why at times Random Spirit Lover feels more like a regression than a progression. If nothing else, he's unpredictable, like the opening stanzas of "Up On Your Leopard, Upon The End Of Your Feral Days." There's an eerie carnival from hell sort of aesthetic, but then it's a return to Krug's brilliance as the twittering, jaunty melody melts into a flourish of keys and an honest to god guitar solo that provides a moment of catharsis that reminds me why I listen to music in the first place. Matt Littlefair

TWISTA Adrenaline Rush 2007 (Atlantic/Warner)
Have a short listen to Twista's previous work and you'll realize that his notably fast delivery is more of a gimmick than a tolerable rap style. Unlike Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, who implement dual vocals and switch up their speed, Twista has been a one trick pony. It looks like he's taken a lesson from Bone Thugs for Adrenaline Rush 2007. Here, he implements a little more rhythm and varying tempos, ranging from his typical auctioneer style all the way down to a chopped and screwed drawl. When Twista puts it into sixth gear (on most of the album), guest appearances by Pharrell, R.Kelly, Cee-Lo and T-Pain help temper the speed and give songs some balance. The Bone Thugs guidance is most evident on "Ain't No Hoes," where the crew make a guest appearance backed by a very BTNH-sounding beat, helping Twista execute the highlight of the record. It looks like Twista realizes that slow and steady wins the race. Well, slow-er. Andre Mihsin

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