The Bird and the Bee

I first heard this album at the best French restaurant in Bakersfield, California. (It later closed, despite my wife and I being regular patrons, presumably because Bakersfield.) The server didn't even know who the artist was either, but the beguiling "My Fair Lady" then playing faintly in the background seemed a perfect complement to my steak au poivre. Indeed, Inara George's light, breathy vocals are the real treasure on this album, and the best songs are the ones that put her front and centre ("My Fair Lady" certainly, but also "Again & Again" and especially the ethereal, soulfilling "Spark" as the final track). This is exemplified by the album's weakest moment, the obnoxious "F*cking Boyfriend," which is strident and unpleasant and seemed thrown on the album purely as a temptation to edgy DJs ("I Hate Camera" would be a better choice and is much more original to boot). George wears her bleeding heart on her sleeve a bit much lyrically ("I'm A Broken Heart") and Greg Kurstin's production is best when he backs off, but the album's softer moments deftly evade drowning in saccharine and its harder moments may be less compelling but are no less original. If I ever find another good French restaurant in Bakersfield again, I'll recommend this to them, and that ineffably delicious game sausage they used to serve too. (Content: F-bombs on "F*cking Boyfriend.")

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Yello, Zebra

The Swiss technofunk duo's hit the skids lately post-Flag, and this isn't the album that really rescues them from it. Yet those creative doldrums don't entirely overrun this outing and there are some genuinely good tracks amidst the average ones. Dieter Meier has never been a strong lyricist and some of his weakest lines are here (such as "Fat Cry" or the otherwise amusing "How How"), and several of the grooves are recycled multiple times ("Suite 909" in the much better "Tremendous Pain" and "How How"'s later "premix" track), but the beats are fun (in particular the silly throwback "S.A.X.") and the lighter, less overproduced tone is welcome. Blank and Meier have done better work elsewhere and this album doesn't really measure up to their talent, but enough high points balance the lows for even casual fans to enjoy. (Content: no concerns.)

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Diana Ross, Diana

A lot of folks adore this album but on this side of the fence I argue there's just not enough to like. Yes, you have the hits like "Upside Down" (and deservedly so), but even the retconned-gay anthem "I'm Coming Out" takes a little too long to get cooking and "Have Fun (Again)" has a quirky hook but gets stale fast. Likewise, her anthropomorphic "My Old Piano" is essentially the reworked beat from "Upside Down" with less going for it and the slow moments such as "Friend To Friend" and "Now That You're Gone" seem more like perfunctory drama queen anthems than heartfelt appeals to one's soul. The album redeems itself somewhat with the sizzly "Give Up" in the closer slot, but one wonders if that title fits this outing a little too well: Lady Di can hit you in the gut when she wants to but except for brief flashes of brilliance this slick album just doesn't stick. Ross fans will want to find the 2003 deluxe 2-CD set, but don't expect anything special from the alternate takes on the first disc — the collector's interest is actually the second one with a number of rare 12-inch mixes from other albums otherwise unreleased on any modern format. (Content: no concerns.)

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Bernie Sanders, We Shall Overcome

Sorry, Bernie bros: stick a fork in him, he's done for 2020. But we would be remiss to close what may be his last presidential campaign without this odd musical footnote in politics, his 1987 album. In these hyperpolarized times it may be impossible to review this album without a political slant — if you love Bernie, you'll love this album no matter how bad it is, and likewise you'll hate it if you despise him — but let's take it on ear value and see how far we get. If you came to hear him sing, you'll be sadly disappointed because on this album at least, he doesn't. But he pulls no punches; like a socialist northeastern Rod McKuen, he turns his speeches into veritable beat poetry over five spirituals and anthems, berating "The Banks of Marble" and American jingoism asking "Where Have All The Flowers Gone" while reminding us that this land was made for you and me, with "thirty Vermont artists" faithfully playing the choir as he roars from his fiery secular pulpit. I have no quibbles with the polished production (if a bit maudlin) but this album has a specific purpose: it's a call for revolution, and that is its trump (ahem) card while simultaneously its biggest fault. This is red carbon-neutral Impossible Burger meat to be played at rallies and speeches, not relaxing after fattening up the wallets of the man or partying in the shadow of the one-percent. It may be unfair to say it's bad pop when it never really aspired to be, but that's the only non-partisan yardstick I've got. While it's the most fascinating political artifact I've ever encountered to date, as the recording equivalent of an anti-MAGA hat it just isn't good music. The CD reissue omits the "conversation with Bernie Sanders" on the original cassette's B-side which musically doesn't change anything. (Content: as stated.)

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Harpers Bizarre, The Complete Singles Collection

Probably the best known sunshine pop band among the genre's brief 1960s blossoming, this collection is the easiest way for modern ears to access their unusual discography. Fronted primarily by Ted Templeman, more famous later as a producer than a performer, their earlier works as the Tikis and the Other Tikis are best described as undistinguished and their presence on this collection merely counts for completeness. Fortunately, their recordings under their better known name are of far greater quality. To be sure, the band relied on covers almost to a fault ("Chattanooga Choo Choo" and their ponderous take on "Knock on Wood"), but they usually did them competently ("Both Sides Now," "Anything Goes" and Templeman's arrangement of "If We Ever Needed The Lord Before") and frequently as good or better than the original (particularly their big hit "The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feeling Groovy)" but also the lovely Van Dyke Parks track "Come To The Sunshine" and the hypnotically captivating "Witchi Tai To"). Unfortunately their efforts in broadening their oeuvre didn't work so well, such as their vain attempts at going country; "Virginia City"'s faux parochialism clangs (at least it's short), along with "Soft Soundin' Music" to a lesser extent and the out-of-place "Battle of New Orleans." Similarly, while "I Love You, Alice B Toklas!"'s psychedelia-soaked production doesn't wear as badly as those did, as an obvious product of its time it doesn't stand as an eternal classic either. Their artistic sense may not be nearly as sublime as other sunshine acts like the Free Design, but they were at least for awhile better attuned to pop music's fickle demands, and arguably thus aged better in the aggregate. However, this collection faithfully accumulates their highs and lows with equally determined precision, and we all know what that averages out to be. (Content: a couple sly drug references.)

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Radiohead, OK Computer

There is sheer genius here behind that incomprehensible title. It starts right away with gritty violins and the grungily insistent, meandering backbeat of "Airbag"'s intro, giving way to its exalted trilling guitars that nearly submerge Thom Yorke's vocals. There is also the satiny undulation of "Subterranean Homesick Alien," the plaintive stripped down "Exit Music (For A Film)," the mournfully lyric "Let Down," the quaveringly upbeat "No Surprises" and the luxurious sweeping floataways of the closer "The Tourist." Less accomplished, but no less worthy, are the distortion-drowned "Electioneering," the morose if expressive "Climbing Up The Walls" and the sluggish though still fascinatingly contrastive "Lucky." Yet these only comparative lesser moments are swept away by this album's triumphs, the menacingly beautiful "Karma Police" (compare with Cheap Trick's "Dream Police") and its artistic peak "Paranoid Android," a possibly unintentional prog rock throwback with distinct movements, discrete tempos and some of the most layered and complex audio construction since Alan Parsons. Its small faults make it greater; its great moments make it matter, and it is arguable if any of its contemporaries come close. The reissue "OKNOTOK 1997 2017" might as well be an entire second album: besides remastering the original such that it's never sounded better, it leads off with three brilliant unreleased tracks ("I Promise," "Man of War" and "Lift") and eight B-sides. Unlike many shovel-ons these tracks are almost as high quality as the album they didn't make and if I had a six-star option I might even award it. A little over much is the bonus cassette (!) in the boxed set, mostly short odds and sods in progress, though even these not-fully-cooked treats are nearly as tasty and old-school ZX Spectrum owners should put the cassette in their system's tape player for a bonus. (Wait, is that where the title comes from? I had a Commodore 64, you see.) (Content: no concerns.)

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Kanye West, Jesus Is King

There is a pernicious problem in religious media (and in these United States, this generally means Christian media) that because it's religious, religious people nod and say it must be good, even when it isn't. This is a big reason why I don't review Christian music here generally, even being Christian personally, because since the dreck isn't skimmed off there's actually more artless junk in Christian record catalogues than secular ones and I don't need to wallow in that sad realization. Yet now and again a religious album appears of such artistic quality and/or sophistication that given how high it stands above its contemporaries I end up feeling terribly wrong in praising it. With at most rare errancy West crystallizes his journey towards and with God into eleven tracks bookended by gospel and livened by hip-hop, and even at its clumsiest the album is smarter than people want to give it credit for. "What have you been hearin' from the Christians?" he asks in "Hands On," predicting accurately "they'll be the first one to judge me." At the same time, though, he shares their same aspirations and voices the common struggle to righteousness, "Made a left when I should've made a right ... told the devil that I'm going on a strike; I've been working for you my whole life." His metaphors on Christian reliance may be a little hamfisted in "On God," and his alleged tribulations might ring hollow to the struggling masses, but how else could a net worth of $250 mil pass through the proverbial eye of the needle? (On the other hand, although I'm hoping "Closed On Sunday"'s Chick-fil-A references were tongue-in-cheek, it just comes off as kinda dumb.) Musically, however, the production is exceptional as it splices more traditional gospel pieces to wrap around the singles (the rich "God Is" being the best example), and the performance quality is stellar. If it weren't for the fact it's unforgivably short, almost EP length, I would be seriously faced with the prospect of giving an album half this readership merely on principle will despise a full five stars. I don't know what's gone on in Kanye's life and I don't know how to walk a single inch in his shoes. I won't judge what he believes and I won't know how long he'll believe it. But here is a religious album that is still as scrupulously professional as his other productions yet unambiguous in his belief that it's his time to stand up for God. What he's saying here will bother or offend many and this album's unapologetic proselytizing makes it deeply controversial, yet he's determined he's still gonna say it and say it with the highest artistic level of quality he can muster. My beliefs may be my bias, but to my great personal astonishment I too nodded and said it was good, because it is. (Content: as stated.)

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Wham!, Make It Big

Exuberant fluffy nonsense, but it's good exuberant fluffy nonsense. The music is relentlessly upbeat to a fault and the lyrics are mostly throwaway, but it's slick, well-produced and irresistibly irrepressible. The slower moments are not exactly their best ("Like A Baby" does little for me and "Everything She Wants" is distastefully bitter) but the updated take on bubblegum pop in "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go," "Freedom" and even non-singles like "Credit Card Baby" will bring a stupid grin to just about anyone's face. Of course, the capper is "Careless Whispers," now completely ruined by Deadpool to the point where an otherwise straight if similarly cheesy song now makes me helplessly snigger whenever it comes on the radio. Who doesn't love a review with a happy ending? (Content: no concerns.)

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The KLF, The White Room

The final album in this duo's multipartite ode to themselves is this soundtrack they didn't release to a film they didn't make before they blew up their entire catalogue and burned a million quid. Or, rather, unreleased except for this modified form, some of its original structure apparently intact, complete with their usual level of self-aggrandizement, layered sound and raucous atmosphere. Indeed, its soundtrack origins die quite hard; the programming and changes in tempo feel like you hit the third act right on time around the last third of the album. Plus, while I'm sure this gives myself away as merely a casual fan, I actually found the self-referential callouts wore out their welcome awfully quick. Yes, dammit, we know you're the KLF and the Justified Ancient Grand Pooh-Bah Vizier Knights of Cincinnati or whatever and the joke was funny exactly once; I don't need to be informed of this and/or whether you're still in the building/business multiple times in the first half, but the groove tightens up when they dial down the self-promotion and the music is overall sharper and more focused (compare with, say, Chill Out). My favourite moments are the slow jams, in particular "Build A Fire," "No More Tears" and "Justified And Ancient," because they're light, airy and melodic in all the ways the harder moments aren't; "Make It Rain" and "White Room" aren't bad either for much the same reasons, though of the faster and trance-ier tracks, only "Last Train to Trancentral" has enough going for it to overcome all the other ways the in-your-face production is obnoxious. I'm concluding this petulant flameout was their way of quitting while they were ahead but Arista is allegedly still pressing this CD in the States, and on balance there's still more to like than not, so I'm sure they'll make that million pounds back soon enough. (Content: no concerns.)

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Trouble Funk, In Times of Trouble

A solid if unexceptional effort from one of the better go-go acts out there. This is not nearly as tight as Drop the Bomb, and too much funk at the time (including this one) was succumbing to the more synthesized feel embodied by Bootsy and other such contemporaries, but it'll still get you moving almost just as well. "Spintime" is the synth-heavy lead in, but it's got an amusingly tricksy beat and the beat don't quit either there or in the title track immediately following, a bit more of a party jam with stronger vocals and brass. (That one-two punch is then followed by the pleasant "Share Your Love," old-school and conventional yet still satisfyingly smooth.) On the other hand, "Good Times" is funky but not all that special, and "Say What" doesn't get off the leash enough for a good go-go going on; plus, the track that really had me scratching my head was "Freaky Situation," Dyke Reed trying for a weird Lou Rawls-Barry White feel making references to his lover's smell (!) and saying she could be "my X-rated movie star, because I know how freaky you are." After that kind of creepiness it's good that "Funk N Roll" is there to close out the album, the hardest-edged track of all but the one with the best melody line and some witty commentary on changing music trends. This might not be the funk I'd reach for in my times of trouble, but while there are better examples of go-go out there (even from this very band) you'll still get good mileage out of this one. The CD reissue adds the instrumental backing of "Funk N Roll" but also two live show jam recordings apparently abridged from their Saturday Night Live live album. I usually find live bonus tracks tedious, and the recording quality is poor, but while they take a little while to get cooking they're actually rather fun for a party atmosphere and aren't just retreads of the earlier cuts. (Content: adult themes on "Freaky Situation.")

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Oingo Boingo, Dark At The End Of The Tunnel

This is another of my road albums, usually for late night driving in the California desert when the only things to keep me company are tumbleweeds and Coast to Coast AM. I suspect this was about when Danny Elfman was starting to notice his hearing was going (and his appetite for high energy mischief with it) given how sedate in general it is compared to their prior albums. There are touches of the old brass-heavy moments in tracks like the opener "When The Lights Go Out" and "Flesh 'N Blood," which could have come off Dead Man's Party if it were about double the tempo, but this outing's overall feel is more congruent with the balladic and longer groove styles of "Skin," "Out of Control" and the bittersweetly lyric "Is This." Indeed, it's those more anodyne hooks and smoother jams that make this a better driving album while at the same time coming off as somewhat less sophisticated; the rhythm sections almost piece together too well in their homology, a strange observation to make about a composer as prolific as Elfman. While I was less enamoured of tracks like "Glory Be," "Dream Somehow" and "Long Breakdown" largely for relative want of distinction, they still flow as well as the others, and I'm not really reaching for the skip button much when they're up. The LP omits "Right To Know," a rather well-realized bunch of meditations on afterlife's uncertainties, but the album's closer "Try To Believe" has a strange but welcome gospel feel, touches of zydeco, fuller brass and a hopeful, aspirational air. I'm not sure who Elfman was singing it to (himself?) and I'm not sure how much of a light at the tunnel it ends up being (the title on the spine notwithstanding), but the album is more idealistic than it pretends to be even if the craftmanship doesn't quite get there, and that song's always a nice one to arrive to. (Content: no concerns.)

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They Might Be Giants, Apollo 18

More sophisticated and musically daring than Flood, their immediately preceding crossover hit, the darker tone and more inscrutable songsmithing will be simultaneously more delightful to TMBG fans desiring a less FM-friendly feel yet less appealing to that album's residual casual interest. Not that they care, I suspect. The lyrics are their usual amusing doggerel, though "I Palindrome I" gets particular points for its actual palindromic vocals; it's more the variety of their musical dressing that distinguishes this album especially. In that vein particular standouts along with said tortuous example of wordplay include "My Evil Twin," "Turn Around" (delightfully ghoulish), "The Statue Got Me High" and my personal favourite "Dinner Bell," a joyful bounding ode to Pavlovian overindulgence. (I would also be remiss not to mention "Spider," in a whole new category of weird, with bass-heavy crushes and vocals like the dub from some long-lost Toho monster flick.) If you don't like a particular track, just wait, because they're all pretty short -- and this is taken to a rather startling extreme with the album's damnedest feature "Fingertips," an end-to-end gapless collection of tracks 17 through 37, all just a few seconds long, each unique and distinct like some tantalizing clip from a DJ cart before your dad switches stations to something else. The album cover will be your guide: if you are puzzled, nay, repulsed, by its juxtaposition of a lunar lander, a giant squid and a sperm whale then you should take it as representative of what you're about to hear and move on. But you'd be missing out, madam. (Content: mild language in "I Palindrome I"; a couple songs might be a little too ghastly for very little ones.)

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