Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks – Mirror Traffic
Despite originally wanting to title the album L.A. Guns and putting the hard-rocking “Senator” forward as the first single, Malkmus largely lays off the Guitar Hero: The fretboard theatrics are used more sparingly and deployed to much greater effect on “Forever 28” where a “Mr. Blue Sky” bounce is interrupted by Thin Lizzy runs, or in the thrilling summertime riff of “Stick Figures in Love”. Only three songs break the five-minute barrier, and these feel far less claustrophobic than the extended tracks on the last three Jicks records. “Share the Red”‘s shambolic waltz, for instance, goes down easier than the 10-minute-long interlocking duets of “Real Emotional Trash”. Read the full review on Pitchfork
Beirut – The Riptide
You see, “The Riptide” is a demonstration. It’s an explanation that, from here on out, the band know exactly what they’re doing; they have the style, they have the skills and they have the willpower. But “The Riptide” is not the full execution. It’s a map; an overview of what is to come.
It makes sense that this is the album to finally see a release of “East Harlem” – a song Condon originally wrote when he was seventeen. Though it appeared on the “Live in Williamsburg”, it was not in finished form. Condon has been tweaking this song for years, performing different variations of it live, adding and dropping things, changing what he had (I personally had the pleasure to hear this final version of the song live in June, and can testify to how surprised I was by their changes); but it was always recognisably the same song. Of course it’s “The Riptide” when he decides to set in stone the final version of the song. The album’s about Beirut growing up, and “East Harlem” is the perfect song to represent that. Most notably, Condon’s flat singing really finds its sense of place now – becoming a layer of the music rather than becoming an imposing lead. Read the full review on The Silver Tongue
Jay Z & Kanye West – Watch The Throne
The album’s highlight, and an instant classic, is “Made in America,” a solid, slow-paced Frank Ocean-teamed jam about the American dream that reveals the main difference between West and Jay-Z: humility. Above a weirdly magnetic synthetic beat and dots of pretty piano clusters crafted by producer Sak Pace of the Jugganauts, Ocean begins by gently listing a string of saints — “sweet king Martin, sweet queen Coretta, sweet brother Malcolm … sweet baby Jesus” among them, and West offers a verse that starts off humble, but by the end he’s bragging about his power and slamming his critics — while Ocean sings “We made it in America.” Read the full Review on The LA Times
