Semipop Life: Manufacturing idiosyncrasy
Steve Swell & friends, Dua Lipa, Sonic Youth, Kiwi Jr., and more!
Steve Swell Quintet Soul Travelers with Leena Conquest: Astonishments
The foremost astonishment on this free jazz super-ish group’s second album (never heard the vinyl-only first) is the two Swell poems are concrete and strong enough to thrive via Conquest’s emphatic singing. The first is a plainspoken tribute to “lives well lived” by Roswell Rudd, Cecil Taylor, and others, the second is about modifying the America that actually exists through actual existence, an idea I condone as long as that includes posting. Like his mentor and friend Rudd, Swell’s avantisms spring from long engagement with traditional forms; he and Jemeel Moondoc play tight in unison and loose in counterpoint, and solo well above the industry standard. Dave Burrell, entering his seventh decade of finding ways to not quite sound like Cecil Taylor, goes through phases where he appears to be more concerned with rhythmic and melodic shapes than with exact notes, only to hit a chord so right as to imply that so was everything else. William Parker is at his best engineering the most solid of ground from which Conquest can declare “I am here now,” and Gerald Cleaver is as busy as always.
Grade: A (“Astonishments”, “For Mondays”, “Being Here”)
Dua Lipa & the Blessed Madonna: Club Future Nostalgia
As someone who both wishes more dance music was pop music and has unsuccessfully lobbied to give poptimism a Disco Sucks* wing, I am happy to report this remix album sounds a hell of a lot less (hmmm, not allowed to use “mechanical” as a dis) algorithmically generated (take that) than the original. The very fact that it’s mixed—intelligently, by the Madonna Formerly Known as Black—is a fjuck-you to the world of stream maximization and just-slap-DaBaby-on-it. The distinct personalities of the producers come through, allowing genuine whimsy, like Gen Hoshino and/or Zach Witness not quite avoiding an explicit lyrics warning or Dimitri from Paris trying to convince those of us who voluntarily listened to Jamiroquai in the ’90s we weren’t virtually insane. The approach does flatten out the megahits “Don't Start Now” and “Physical”, but it also means that when “Buffalo Stance” comes on, it doesn’t sound obviously better than the rest of the album, though it is. Lipa herself transforms from a multi-purpose tool to an impresario, inviting in Madonna for a quickie torch-passing, then hustling her off stage so we can get to the Missy verse. And the star herself finally makes being good in bed plausibly worth the emotional labor.
Grade: A (“Boys Will Be Boys” (Zach Witness remix), “Good in Bed” (Zach Witness & Gen Hoshino remixes), “Break My Heart/Cosmic Girl” (Dimitri from Paris edit))
Sonic Youth: Live in Los Angeles 1998
A full A in Joe Yanosik’s live SY consumer guide, a Christgau B+; call me Joe Manchin ’cuz I’m staking out the centrist position (or better yet, call Joe M. and plead for filibuster reform.) They were always more of a jam clan than true improvisatory masters, but being the latter is hardly essential for a good-to-great live rock band. Strong material to spring from—and A Thousand Leaves certainly qualifies—matters more, as does their longstanding search for new accents, new emphases. Lee’s guitar and Kim’s vocals are in especially fine form, Shelley is a rock, and Thurston wasn’t fucking anyone he wasn’t supposed to. Preceding all of A Thousand Leaves except “Snare, Girl” is the rescued-from-SYRdom “Anagramma”, revealed to be rock after all. The encores are not not “Snare, Girl”; EVOL’s “Shadow of a Doubt”, reborn as Leaf 1001; and “Death Valley ’69”, finally nice.
Grade: A MINUS (“Karen Koltrane”, “Hoarfrost”, “Female Mechanic Now on Duty”)
Tee Grizzley: The Smartest
Early on he begs our pardon for making his previous album too commercial; I never played that one despite A-listing two of his previous efforts, so I’m sorry too, Tee. Not that this doesn’t have an eye on his streaming numbers, as evidenced by the Big Sean, Meek Mill, and Lil Baby guest spots, all of which are solid even if they don’t exactly stick to themes—at least Lil Baby wears a mask on the COVID song. Regardless of whether he’s the smartest (nothing here proves he isn’t, though he needs tougher quiz questions than name a cold place: “Alaska”), he has enough confidence in his smarts to let you to read him like a book or a lyric sheet, straight up telling his freaks he’s taking them to McDonald’s—“all that money shit, I do it for the ’Gram.” The payoffs are greatest in the last and angriest two tracks: a tribute to his aunt, murdered in a drive-by apparently aimed at him, and "Mr. Officer", aided by the Detroit Youth Choir.
Grade: A MINUS (“Mr. Officer”, “Satish”, “I Apologize”)
Luís Lopes Humanization 4tet: Believe, Believe
Starts off with a soul jazz Eddie Harris hat-tip written by Spike Lee’s dad before launching into a balls-to-the-wall free funk fest. Guitarist Lopes and tenor Rodrigo Amado improvise together and alone, in and out of tonality, with perhaps the highlight appearing eight minutes in with a long rising note by Amado that should be used in an ED ad. They don’t attempt to sustain this pace throughout, though one feels the González brothers rhythm section would be up for it. Lopes has his name on the front and skronks and distorts well, but it's the hardest working sax player in Lisbon whose quick-witted ripostes and barely controlled spasms are most memorable.
Grade: A MINUS (“Eddie Harris-Tranquilidad Alborotadora”, “Engorged Mosquitoes”, “Replicate, Pt. 1”)
Parquet Courts with enhanced tunefulness and no content—as much as I dis college rock, maybe Leslie shouldn’t have dropped out before learning a better rhyme than “knowledge.” If that sounds uncomfortably close to… not Pavement or even the Clean, since Malkmus or Kilgour weren’t as gormless as they play-acted, but the Strokes, well, the Strokes were pretty good that one year they were firing on five cylinders. Football Money’s hit rate is very high, with songs that, whether or not they mean anything, feel thoroughly written. Still, since it’s 2021 and their year may be up, I’ll wait until the weight of hyperbole becomes unbearable before I get around to Cooler Returns.
Grade: B PLUS (“Salary Man”, “Comeback Baby”, “Swimming Pool”)
Kahil El’Zabar’s America the Beautiful
The shock top ten finisher on the Expert Witness readers’ poll starts with an Aylerian or Ivesian or maybe just out of tune rendition of the title anthem. It’s one of several covers by one of El’Zabar’s two bands on the record, including an anthemic “Express Yourself” and a “How Can We Mend a Broken Heart” pluralized to include both homeboy Al Green and the naturalized Barry Gibb. The other band crosses potted Afropop with a string quartet, which as someone who spent a year complaining Vampire Weekend were inauthentic I’m not nearly as fond of. Still, borrowing and recombining influences is the American way, even or especially when it isn’t an improvement.
Grade: B PLUS (“Express Yourself”, “America the Beautiful - Instrumental”, “How Can We Mend a Broken Heart”)
Emma Swift: Blonde on the Tracks
Good singer—certainly miles better than Bob is now, and capable of finding new DNA evidence on some well-bloodied tracks. Still, the live versions on the deluxe are unnecessary, and I don’t know if I need to hear “Sad Eyed Lady” from Bob hisself anymore, let alone an Australian redeemer. “I Contain Multitudes” doesn’t require many plays to count all its sixes and sevens, “Going Going Gone” isn’t one of the one tracks on Planet Waves worth saving, and “The Man in Me” and “You’re a Big Girl Now” are better in the context of their albums. So a good EP, though a little short.
Grade: B PLUS (“Queen Jane Approximately”, “One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)”, “Simple Twist of Fate”)
*after 1980