Records

OUR RATING SYSTEM:

Great. Buy it.

Fuck this shit. Don’t buy it.

JIM JONES

Dipset Christmas

Diplomats/Koch

I couldn’t even believe this was for real, but it is. Not since “Trapped in the Closet” has a record worked on so many levels, so brilliantly. The titles say it all: “Dipset Xmas Theme,” “Have a Happy Xmas,” “If Everyday Was Xmas,” the mandatory “Ballin’ on Xmas,” and “We Get Money”—maybe that one’s more of a Hanukkah thing. For real, this is the gift that keeps on giving.

MACHO

BEST ALBUM OF THE MONTH

CLUSTER

WORST ALBUM OF THE MONTH

THE SHINS

BEST COVER OF THE MONTH

SONIC YOUTH

WORST COVER OF THE MONTH

YOKO ONO

SNOOP DOGG

The Blue Carpet Treatment

Geffen

This came out a minute ago, but I just got the title now. Everybody’s saying it’s the best Snoop record in years but frankly I can’t really tell them shits apart anymore. That “Vato” track is cool though.

BLACC PACC

PITBULL

El Mariel

TVT

As a rapper Pitbull is kind of corny, but he’s always got the best beats, man. While all these other cats are out there selling snow, dude’s making strictly party records. His whole career is like one long AV8 joint. Come to think of it, he really is the new 2 Live Crew. All his shit is like 120 bpm and up. Did you hear that song where he samples the B-52’s? That’s at like 168, yo. I also enjoy the fact that when dead prez and them were all bigging up Cuba, Pitbull was like “Yo, I’m from there. Fuck Castro. Let’s swim across the pond and become venture capitalists.”

SMUTTY RUFF

YOUNG JEEZY

The Inspiration

Def Jam

I’ll tell you right now: This isn’t as good as Jeezy’s first album. That album was classic. We should’ve given it a classic review. Five mics. You can bump that first Jeezy album from beginning to end and just zone out. You know what’s another great one, come to think of it? Young Buck’s first album. Have you relistened to “Bang Bang” lately? Unfuckingbelievable. Anyway.

The Inspiration

is cool, but Snowman didn’t change his style up one bit. I mean, not even a new ad-lib.

YOUNG NIZZLE

DIDDY

Press Play

Bad Boy

Somebody at the office reviewed this a couple of months ago and said it was shit. That’s why you haven’t heard it. But in fact it’s a very good album. Very festive, perfect for the holidays. It’s also kind of the most innovative hip-hop album of the year, actually. And you really need to get that one track that didn’t make the final cut: “Get Off.” It’s Puff Daddy imitating James Brown over what sounds like a vintage House of Pain beat. And it goes on for five minutes. No verses, nothing. Just one long James Brown imitation. When I first heard it I was like this is either the most retarded song ever made or it’s genius. And upon serious reflection, I’ve decreed it’s the latter.

BUSTA NUT

LILY ALLEN

Alright Still

Capitol

Sorry girls, but female singer-songwriter solo artists that are worth pissing on when they’re on fire are few and far between. Stevie Nicks is in her 60s and she’s still miles and miles and miles ahead of them all. Then just when you realise you’ve spent eight hours trawling through the lyric interpretations on buckinghamnicks.net, this girl pops up out of nowhere—well, with the help of her actor dad, Keith from

Trainspotting

—and knocks out a really sweet pop album that blows all the fey, pretentious, fake riot grrls out of the water. Wow, and it’s from Britain.

CHARLIE CHUCKLES

YOKO ONO

Yes, I’m A Witch

Astralwerks

This CD exists to serve two vital purposes: To show us why certain artists should not try music as an alternative discipline, and to show that remix records always make matters worse no matter what scratching and noodling crap gets contributed. It’s a bummer even trying to rip on this.

RON RENNON

TRANS AM

Sex Change

Thrill Jockey

Try as they might, nobody is ever going to come close to topping the 70s version of the future. Thirty years from now, I bet some cyberteen will still be queuing these guys up in his cochlear iPod and daydreaming of those gay

Logan’s Run

jumpsuits.

HUEY MUMPLESTEIN

THE PSYCHIC PARAMOUNT

Origins and Primitives vol. 1 + 2

No Quarter

A lot of the stuff that ends up lumped together under the whole Acid Mother’s Temple “freak-out” umbrella seems like it’s just a bunch of dudes humping around the stage in whatever zany crap they could find before the show, trying to make whatever weird noises they can come up with at the same time to mess with your head. The thing with these guys, though, is there are only two of them and they actually do make some really weird noises that genuinely

do

mess with your head—like little echoing barn-burners of riffs that needle down into your brain and start rattling around, crossing all the synapses so that when you try to say “How are they doing this, just with delay?” it comes out “Sgurmf… Green is always!”

LEROY GUMPTION

TIGERS AND MONKEYS

Loose Mouth

Little Lamb Recordings

The lead singer of this band is a lawyer, a comedienne in an all-girl comedy troupe, and a raspy-voiced spitfire who writes a mean tune and sings like the dickens. What CAN’T she do? How about make me not listen to this awesome album over and over again and be totally psyched? Hey, I answered my own question.

MEG SNEED

CLOUDS

Legendary Demo

Hydrahead

If I were feeling a little more curmudgeonly, I might rail on these kids for such blatant Sabbathism and storm aimlessly up and down the stairs a couple times grumbling through my dentures about kids coming up with their own ideas and not just leeching off the TV version of youth. But, you know, it’s pretty pleasant out today, and the azaleas are coming in much fuller than last year, and honestly you can’t have too much of this stuff when it’s done right. Here, take these Frisbees I’ve been holding on to back while I’m still in this mood.

OLD MAN CARRUTHERS

PIEBALD

Accidental Gentlemen

SideOneDummy

I was as into that “Hey, we’re part of it” tune as much as the next guy, but this is boring. It almost sounds like they got old, some moved to L.A., and they do fruity stuff like run their van on vegetable oil.

OH HENRY

DEER HOOF

Friend Opportunity

Kill Rock Stars

I can’t tell if this is racist of them or me, but there’s no way this shit would fly without what’s-her-face whoring out her cute Jap-ness up in front. Whoa, light bulb! If she made a tape of random weirdo noises you could dub onto existing music we could make the entirety of Mike Patton’s career listenable. This could be a great day for man.

A. KLANSMAN

THE ETERNALS

Heavy International

Aesthetics

I am certain that people like Perry Farrell, homeless black Gene, and my Aunt Darla all think this band is funky. If that sounds like a cross-section of folks whom you share similar opinions with, get into it.

MARY LOUISE BUTTERS

CLINIC

Visitations

Domino

Being marginally into this record has me questioning myself more than that time I gave a dude a handjob in the locker room and then let his dad tea-bag me in that rented hotel room in the Castro while we listened to Kylie Minogue. I am reeling right now.

ROBERT PARISH

SONIC YOUTH

Destroyed Room

Geffen

They’ve been threatening to do it for years, but finally they got all ornery and old on us and went and done did it: Sonic Youth have finally recorded the score for Sofia Coppola’s IMAX documentary about astronaut fashion. Ladies: When a guy puts this largely instrumental disc on the old hi-fi and it’s just you two hanging out, that’s your cue to start with the out-making.

YORICK TRULY

FLYING CANYON

S/T

Soft Abuse

I seriously have a hard time buying the idea that fuzzing out the bass on two tracks of these inept, “Redemption Song”-sounding moanabouts somehow constitutes “Doom Folk.” If I put a little ceramic skull in the basket of my Rascal does that mean I’ve got “Maniac Cerebral Palsy”? Let’s see… Nope, still just a gimp.

PAULIE ATCHERSON

OF MONTREAL

Hissing Fauns, Are You the Destroyer?

Polyvinyl

Western nerds have had it so easy for the past few years it’s actually becoming a really dangerous problem. While their Iranian and North Korean counterparts are toiling away, channeling all their pent-up rage into weapons that’ll scorch an entire continent, our guys have been given so much leeway by bullies that they’re holding Nintendo dance-offs and setting up kickball leagues in public. Fucking kickball! I know it’s considered a little uncouth to make outright calls for pogroms in this day and age, but I think one good

Wedgienacht

may be all that stands between us and nuclear oblivion. Do the right thing, jocks.

ADAM ARTSNSHITS

THE SHINS

Wincing the Night Away

Sub Pop

Hmmm, it may have worked in the past, but I’m feeling like the timid little nursery-rhyme vocals might not be the best match to the soaring, “We’ve made it to the big time, boys” bravado. That’s not to say that after you’ve been on TV and paid off your student loans or whatever you automatically have to gruff it up and start singing about putting diamond runners on your car or how much God disapproves/approves of your life, but it might help you keep from sounding like a Jonathan Fire*Eater tribute band.

ELROY SHNUBSS

MENOMENA

Friend and Foe

Barsuk

You know when you met that crazy girl at that party, and she’s totally nuts and drunk out of her mind, but she’s really into you and ends up taking you home and you have crazy hate-sex on top of her mangy fake fur coat in her dumpy, cat-pee-smelling apartment to a Tori Amos/Dresden Dolls mixtape? And you end up leaving at eight in the morning, kinda embarrassed but stoked because she had a rad body and was totally up for the super-nasty? Yeah, that was cool, wasn’t it? She was totally irritating, but every time you hear this record, it’ll remind you of all the voices in her screwy head and you’re soooo going to go straight to the bathroom and rub one out to the fond reminiscences of your awesome, wasted youth. (BTW: It’s OK to jerk off to thoughts about ex-girlfriends when you’re in a new relationship.)

REINHARDT B. NICKEL

JAMIE T

Panic Prevention

Virgin

If the top half of Pete Doherty had the bottom half of Plan B grafted on to it because of some medical emergency, it would end up sounding like Jamie T. He should marry Lily Allen. They’d have beautiful children together and become the new Eurythmics.

BOBBIE G

MICHAEL CASHMORE

Sleep England

Durtro Jnana

Fragile instrumentals for electric guitar and bass from the man responsible for the majority of the music and arrangement in Current 93’s recent output. Sweetly melancholic and terribly beautiful, it’s like being carried away on a codeine cloud while flaxen-haired angels whisper honeyed promises in your ear. Oh green and pleasant land indeed.

TONY MOLESTER

ADJAGAS

S/T

Ever

Native banjo folk from a pair of Sami tribespeople from the northernmost reaches of Norway. Downtrodden minorities! Escape your shackles by making hipster exotica! Some of it sounds like Palace Brothers if they were born in the Arctic Circle but there’s a couple of tracks I guess are drinking songs where the dude sings like he’s gargling frogspawn.

BASILDON BOND

A MOUNTAIN OF ONE

EP 2

Mountain Music Works

Another epic soft-rock odyssey sprawled across five tastefully cosmic songs made by a bunch of stargazers who dress like the guys from

Withnail and I

. It’s so obviously “all about the music, man” with this band that it’s not even funny anymore, so no jokes, thanks.

THEYDON BOIS

JULIE DOIRON

Woke Myself Up

Jagjaguawar

Lyrics like “I don’t wanna be liked by you, don’t wanna be liked by you” might sail the ship if you’re a black-shagged, Queens-bred goon playing two-minute pop-rock songs. If you’re old enough to be my mom and you’re sitting alone in a room slapping around an acoustic like an autistic kid, you just sound like you have Downs.

EGGPLANT MCTACOTOE

FLAMING FIRE

When the High Bell Rings

Silly Bird Records

This reminds me of when New York’s underground scene was still “wacky.” Like remember Collective Unconscious? You’d go there and see girls in flapper dresses and striped tights and boys with green sideburns and top hats do a play about an epic battle between unicorns and pirates, you know? Where did all the kooks go? L.A.? Well, at least some of them have stuck it out in the city and they are in Flaming Fire, an awesomely kooky, theatrical band singing songs of biblical plagues and Egyptian sexual practices. Picture the Butthole Surfers, the Residents, the Manson Family, and the B-52’s all running amok in a Kenneth Anger film. They just don’t make ’em like this anymore. So check ’em out and if you are artistically inclined, please consider contributing to their world’s-largest-illustrated-Bible project at flamingfire.com/bible.html. They have 2,849 illustrations complete and 33,816 remaining. So intrepid, these old-school New York zanies!

MEG SNEED

THE FLOWERS OF HELL

S/T

Earworm

Fragrant droning from this London “supergroup” featuring members of British Sea Power and Tindersticks. You can taste the art gallery gig already. Nice to see they’ve taken time out from their hectic schedules to regale us with an album of middle-class meditation Muzak.

JANIE SMODGESON

MIRA CALIX

Eyes Set Against the Sun

Warp

What with all the sinister strings, creaking hinges, dripping pipes, and that spooky children’s choir popping up when you least expect, this sounds like the worst slasher movie Dario Argento never made. Scariest bit is how Mira Calix keeps getting away with this stuff.

JENNIFER JUPITER

THE RESIDENTS

Tweedles

Mute

The Residents are one of those bands that everyone is aware of but no one under the age of 35 has ever heard. I have no idea if this album is consistent with their back catalog or not and I aim to never find out. From the title right down to the shitty typography, there is much to despise: it being a concept album featuring a menacing clown, for instance, or the brief reggae segue, the constant flitting between genres in a desperate stab at diversity, the fact that at its heart this is a smug industrial rock record in the early-90s mold made by people pushing 50. Did I mention the clown and the reggae?

MAURICE DUNHILL

CLUSTER

Sowiesoso

Water

Anything by Cluster is worth getting. Endy-story. PS: Popul Vuh too.

WERNER HAIRZZZOG

OM / CURRENT 93

Inerrant Rays of Infallible Sun (Blackship Shrinebuilder)

Neurot

In deference to the gaps of generations past, it’s really heartening to see two doomsayers from the 80s and 90s play nice and bridge the divide with some solid joint-dirging. It’s the kind of thing that really fills you with hope for all our future, like maybe things won't turn out all right after all.

STASHIUS CLAY

GHOST

In Stormy Nights

Drag City

If you’ve got the patience, there’s actually two to three minutes of solid, tribally sort of psych-jamming that’s pretty enjoyable buried in this album’s endless stretches of stultifying, tedious, mind-melting pseudo-60s-avant-garde horseshit. But after all, that’s what being into music is all about, right? Enduring hours and hours of garbage.

CLEYDON BOISS

SOILED MATTRESS AND THE SPRINGS

Springtime!

Teardrops

Chuck Mangione and Henry Mancini have, until now, been unmined inspiration-fodder for young avant-garde types. Soiled Mattress and the Springs change all that, leading the charge into the dominant young free-jazz turmoil with actual: Songs! Hooks! Chops! Mood! This is swinging, good-times, exuberant jazz coming from an unexpected corner, which makes it all the better. Quite good.

JAY PETERSSEN

KTL

KTL

Editions Mego

This is a six-track droned-out black hole from Stephen O’Malley of SunnO))) and an electronics nerd named Peter Rehberg. You know what? Enough of this stuff. The drone-metal thing was to 2006 what the fake freak-folk shit was to 2005 and we want to be the first ones to say this: Uncle. Give us some fucking tunes, guys. A riff or two at least.

JERRY MCPHEETERBERG

JON APPLETON / DON CHERRY

Human Music

Water

There’s experimenting with weird shit, and then there’s being an expert at it to the extent that every time you open your mouth, God comes out. That’s what Don Cherry was like. This is him playing a range of flutes and percussion while some other guy makes electronic squiggles. It’s from the 70s and it could have been recorded yesterday. Love it.

UNCLE JOHN