How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
U2
Interscope
The title is a red herring, or perhaps a far-flung metaphor. U2's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb is neither manifesto nor polemic. It is — give or take — a collection of love songs. McCartney's safe, though. These are not silly love songs, but Bono's personalized ruminations on the universal power of love — wrapped around the Irish megaband's best collection of hooks in quite some time.
Atomic Bomb is the most heavily buzzed U2 album since '91's Achtung Baby, due in large part to the quartet's cross-promotion with Apple's iPod that landed the hook for "Vertigo" on TV about a million times. Radio play? Pshaw. Who needs radio play? (Although "Vertigo" has garnered plenty of that, too.)
After being inundated with the iPod commercial, I expected to react to the full-length "Vertigo" with tired ears. I was surprised to discover that the single, clocking in at a crisp 3:13, burst from the speakers, driven by the Edge's unusually punchy guitar and Bono's galvanizing vocal. The song ranks in the upper echelon of U2 singles.
Elsewhere, the band displays its flair for building from smolder to crescendo, which tends to give U2 songs their epic flavor. On "Miracle Drug," the Edge alternates between slurry atmospherics and huge, chiming chords, while Bono's vocal evolves from vulnerable to fervent.
The quartet originally intended the project to be a straight-up rock record, with producer Chris Thomas at the helm, but eventually expanded its scope and brought in the likes of Daniel Lanois, Flood, Nellee Hooper, Steve Lillywhite, Brian Eno and Jacknife Lee. This confluence of sonic styles benefits Atomic Bomb by increasing its textural range. Although the Edge's guitar is the music's instrumental backbone, it's augmented with subtle keyboards and electronics, as well as little diversions like pedal steel and mandolin (both courtesy of Lanois).
They did not, however, forget to rock. "All Because of You" is a flat-out stomping tune, driven by viscerally unprocessed drums and guitar sounds. "Crumbs From Your Table" dials back the tempo a bit, but moves with a pulsing urgency. "Love and Peace or Else" begins with a doomy smear of bass-heavy fuzz and then breaks into a Clash-like strut.
Of the more sedate material, "Sometimes You Can't Make It on Your Own" is a real gem, with a soul-infused chorus that wouldn't sound out of place on the lips of Luther Vandross. The disc's only real miss is the overwrought "A Man and a Woman," with a melody that could've come from Burt Bacharach on an off day (further hampered by Bono overselling the vocal).
But now I'm quibbling. In the '90s, U2's dalliance with irony and aloofness threatened the band's relevance. After a solid return to form with 2000's All That You Can't Leave Behind, the pride of Dublin is not just back on track, but full speed ahead. 
—ERIC SNIDER
The Unfound Sound
SKATING CLUB
Kimchee
Though it's a little jazzier, and a lot more dynamic and electrified, the third full-length from singer-songwriter Aubrey Anderson's Skating Club continues to travel the intimate, rootsy slowcore path mapped on its eponymous 2001 debut and lushly landscaped on last year's Bugs and Flowers. Melancholy and a tired sort of whimsy rub friendly shoulders on every textured track, but melancholy dominates, inspiring resonance without ever dragging you too far down. You don't listen to Anderson's guitar-driven, echoed-out ruminations so much as submerge yourself in them — experiencing The Unfound Sound is like sitting in an expensively appointed lounge after hours, only the air is full of sweet viscous liquid rather than cigarette smoke, and the talented, mellow band onstage didn't quit playing when everyone else left. Those indie-roots fans who prefer their singer-songwriter fare more straightforward and less immaculately (com)posed might find Skating Club a little too hip for the room, but most will enjoy this evocative little suite of tunes as the perfect post-last-call drinking partner. (www.kimcheerecords.com) —SCOTT HARRELL
Love Songs for Patriots
AMERICAN MUSIC CLUB
Merge
Tired of being perennially referred to as the greatest Americana band not too many Americans had heard, San Francisco's American Music Club cut short its already lengthy career 10 years ago. While cult-hero singer-songwriter Mark Eitzel's subsequent solo material generated comparable acclaim from some critics and fans, it also showed that he hadn't been as solely responsible for AMC's greatness as previously assumed. He and his former bandmates must've noticed as well, because the group (which had disbanded amicably) reunited this year with little trouble, and released a record that consistently approaches the quality of its back catalog's most revered moments. The excellent, mildly cacophonic opener "Ladies and Gentlemen" and equally arresting "Patriot's Heart" aside, Songs for Patriots showcases little of the cabaret/lounge-crooner bent that kept cropping up back in the day, and evinces a strongly contemporary eclectipop vibe overall. But the act's penchant for effortlessly defying categorization remains intact — its willful ambiguity is just more about modern sounds and innovative sonic augmentation than blending seminal American styles these days. Programmed drums, fuzzed-out bass and discordant guitars float in and out of the mix, providing enthralling counterpoint to Eitzel's moody, masterful melodies without ever overpowering them. (Well, almost never — it actually does happen on "Job to Do.") For his part, Eitzel augments his well-loved impressions of life through a whiskey glass with some surprisingly upbeat fare, but is always at his best when ruminating with a rueful smile on life's devastating little ironies. It's been a long time, but Songs for Patriots establishes beyond a doubt that American Music Club has always been more than the sum of Eitzel's admittedly breathtaking talent and the minor contributions of a few backing players. And thankfully, that collaborative magic is back, in updated and nearly perfect form. (www.mergerecords.com) 1/2 —SCOTT HARRELL
The Complete Norman Granz Jam Sessions
VARIOUS ARTISTS
Verve
Jazz impresario Norman Granz, founder of the fabulously successful Jazz at the Philharmonic tours, felt that jam sessions were where jazz was most alive. This five-disc set of studio jams cut in the early '50s collects literally dozens of revered players, from legendary titans like Diz, Bird, Basie, Buddy Rich, Roy Eldridge, Johnny Hodges, Lionel Hampton and Oscar Peterson, to talented lesser names like Wardell Gray, Flip Phillips and Herb Ellis. The jams are where old hands met young guns, where swing and bop found common ground, where the mood ranged from convivial to cutthroat. The set abounds with crowd-pleasing licks and hair-raising runs — the players blow over an uptempo blues, a standard or ballad medley. Admittedly, this is a lot — a whole, whole lot — of jamming, with the sole emphasis on go-for-the-gut solos, but the spirit and intensity never wane. 1/2 —ERIC SNIDER
This article appears in Dec 8-14, 2004.
