Who Is This America?
Antibalas
Ropeadope
The multi-racial Brooklyn-based collective known as Antibalas ("Bulletproof" or "Anti-bullets" in Spanish) rolls out its third full-length of Afro-beat, a style carved from the legacy of the late Nigerian musician/rebel Fela Anikulapo-Kuti. To both their credit and detriment, Antibalas does not attempt to reinvent the earthy micro-genre, which was forged from the fusion of American R&B and jazz and a panoply of African styles. The music is built on a foundation of undulating funk (interlocking drums, percussion, bass and guitar parts), driven by a massive, guttural horn-section attack and punctuated by raw solos — especially, in the case of Antibalas, those of baritone saxophonist Martin Perna. Singer Ernesto Abreau drops politically charged lyrics into the mix, often answered by a simple group chant. It's a winning formula kept alive by Antibalas. At the same time, though, the qualities that make Who Is This America? so seductive also make it rather static. Afro-beat is such an open-ended style that it seems ripe for new growth. Antibalas might do better to loosen the Fela tether a little bit. (www.ropeadope.com) 
—ERIC SNIDER
Your Blues
DESTROYER
Merge
When Electric Version, the New Pornographers' offering to the glut of releases promising to "Save Rock Music," appeared on shelves last year, it made a convincing case — it was literate, tight, sexy, and above all, willing to crank the amps' volume without irony. New Pornographer Dan Bejar, who began Destroyer in 1995 as a solo project, rarely caught the spotlight like co-frontpersons Carl Newman and Neko Case, but nevertheless contributed some of the album's most memorable moments. Your Blues, Destroyer's fifth release, reveals more of Bejar's love for all things old and arcane. A decidedly low-key affair, this is an immaculately arranged chamber pop album reminiscent of Station to Station-era Bowie, carnival rides and heart-on-the-sleeve poetry. The Pornographers were more suited for public listening, and by comparison, Destroyer is an outright rejection of it. Which is oversimplifying matters because, as the wide-open orchestration and occasional oddball lyric (akin to Pink Floyd's Roger Waters') suggests, Your Blues is itself a rock album — one that trades the drum kit for a tympani/snare combo and the distorted guitars for an omnipresent French horn. While this road-less-traveled approach is totally admirable, some tracks ("The Fox and the Hound," "Mad Foxes") meander unnecessarily, like an impromptu jam session at open mic night that doesn't know quite when to end. But these transgressions are forgettable, since so many of Your Blues' tracks radiate with the same folksy charm and caustic wit that established Bejar as a great songwriter in the first place. (www.mergerecords.com) 1/2
—MARK SANDERS
Women and Children Die First
REMEMBERING NEVER
Ferret
In the liner notes to this, Remembering Never's second release on rising metalcore indie Ferret, vocalist Peter Kowalsky pens a few conspicuously overwrought lines about how "hardcore" has become "less about the message and more about trends and meaningless poetry." Kowalsky adds that his band may have been a part of that slide; he implies, however, that that's all been left in the past with the controversial — some say blatantly misogynist — murder fantasies of '02's She Looks so Good in Red. The mini-essay might be touching were it not for the fact that, sonically, Women and Children offers absolutely nothing to distinguish itself from the literally dozens of other brutally schizoid death/core/screamo discs to come out in just the last six months. Sure, there are minute differences in vocal inflection, in the number of abrupt time-changes, and the frequency of moshy breakdowns. Overall, though, Remembering Never sounds exactly like every other tight, tortured, cathartic band playing to the hardcore kids while finally admitting a love for metal. They're not bad, but they are pretty damn cookie-cutter, and to call for innovation and purity of expression when your band sounds like it just rolled off some automated metalcore assembly line is just tacky. (www.ferretstyle.com)
—SCOTT HARRELL
Bamnan and Slivercork
MIDLAKE
Bella Union
Hatched in the jazz lab of the North Texas School of Music a little north of Dallas, Midlake sound as if they were inclined to sleep through Miles Davis 101. The group has concocted a cerebral, Anglo/Euro-influenced brand of psychedelic pop that's short on conventional virtuosity, long on wanton creativity. They start with a gauzy weave of cheesy-cool analog synths, buried guitars, shimmering flute sounds, glockenspiels, organ swells and other trippy goo — all of which congeals into a luscious, languid drone. Lead singer Tim Smith then ladles on his weary whine, and out tumble playful non sequitirs like "Some of them were superstitious watching them parade around the town square/ Some of them were praising monicle [sic] men simply 'cause they don't now better." The melodies are at first elusive, but then become sticky, kind of like the molasses of their instrumental tracks. Bamnan and Slivercork is charming and agreeably quirky, although it can be a bit much for one sitting. (www.bellaunion.com)
—ERIC SNIDER
With All My Heart
HARVEY MASON
Bluebird
With thousands of recordings from countless genres on his resume, Harvey Mason surely looked at With All My Heart as something of a dream project. The veteran drum ace, always a willing sideman, drives the beat for 11 separate piano/bass tandems through an array of standards and new tunes, concocting a piano-trio album with a beguiling stylistic range. We get the light buoyancy of Chick Corea on "If I Should Lose You"; the frenetic bopistry of Kenny Barron on "Bernie's Tune"; the orchestral lushness of Fred Hersch on "So Near, So Far"; the somber lyricism of Bob James on "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" and the stately elegance of Hank Jones on "Tess." The headiest performance comes courtesy of Herbie Hancock, bassist Dave Carpenter and Mason on a probing reinvention of the pianist's "Speak Like a Child." The bass slot courses with talent — Ron Carter, Eddie Gomez, Charnet Moffett, Charlie Haden and such — but it's ultimately Mason who proves the star here, providing impeccable groove and color without turning his dream project into an opportunity to show off. 1/2
—ERIC SNIDER
This article appears in Jul 15-21, 2004.