Desaparecidos
Read Music, Speak Spanish

Wow. Conor Oberst's previous band, the dynamic, heart-gazing Bright Eyes, was pretty damn good, but the songwriter's new, rowdier five-piece is simply amazing. And Read Music, Speak Spanish — a wrenching look at the emptiness that may well hide behind the facade of consumer culture's American Dream — is easily the most compelling rock album you've heard in months. Remorseful and anguished yet sublimely catchy, the disc follows a character's life from youth's limitless possibilities to an ultimately purposeless existence of unfulfilled dreams, frayed love and suburban sprawl. The music is crashing and iconoclastic, juxtaposing fuzzed-out bass lines with fragile guitars and burying the hooks in a wash of tuneful noise. Oberst's tortured vocals convey an almost tangible sense of frustration and loss, from his deadpan baritone to a larynx-shredding howl. Man and Wife, the Former (Financial Planning), Greater Omaha, Man and Wife, the Latter (Damaged Goods) and Survival of the Fittest/It's a Jungle Out There connect most viscerally, but everything here is substantial, moody and memorable. A near-perfect release. (Saddle Creek/www.saddle-creek.com)
Desparacidos play the Orpheum on Jan. 31 —Scott Harrell

Bobby Previte & Bump
Just Add Water

One of the original figures on the New York downtown scene of the early '80s, Bobby Previte has distinguished himself as not only a drummer of considerable prowess but an accomplished composer as well. For Just Add Water, Previte works with longtime collaborators Wayne Horvitz (piano) and Steve Swallow (drums), along with tenor saxophonist Marty Ehrlich and trombonists Ray Anderson and Joseph Bowie. The ensemble swaggers through a variety of feelings with a winning combination of muscle, finesse and sensitivity. These guys segue from soloist to soloist like a well-drilled relay team passes the baton. Previte, who wrote all but one of the tunes, pens material that sounds initially familiar to the jazz vernacular but then winds into intriguing side roads, back alleys and detours. The opener, Put Away Your Crayons, manages this delicate dance with a tantalizing opening section built on a floating rhythm and slow, unwinding melody, which ultimately gives way to a breezy Latin-esque groove and a series of thoughtful solos. Previte's ambitious compositional approach does make for some potential skids. Everything I Want, while loosely hinged on New Orleans gutbucket, fails to find a focus for more than nearly 10 minutes. In fact, Just Add Water's most successful piece is its most linear: the film noir ballad Nice Try, which showcases Ehrlich's dramatic tenor, evoking scenes of cars on rainy streets after midnight. These days, acoustic jazz is all too often a rote, predictable exercise. Just Add Water enlivens its foundation of skill and control with an air of recklessness, and for that it stands apart. (Palmetto, www.palmetto-records.com)
—Eric Snider

The Chemical Brothers
Come With Me
Remember, about five years ago, when electronica was gonna be the new rock 'n' roll and The Chemical Brothers were contenders for the Next Big Thing? Phew. Dodged that one, didn't we? There's no need for further worry, either, because the Brothers' new Come With Us is another bloated slab of bombastic breakbeat with a few bells and whistles thrown in that make it even more heavy handed. Virtually every song has a handful of carefully timed breakdowns that give way to an electro-percussion flourish and then — bam! — back into the big beat groove. Yeah, this is an expected rave convention, but c'mon, it shouldn't be a blueprint. When the Chemical Brothers attempt to stretch, it gets even worse. The swirly space-ballad The State We're in, with vocals by Beth Orton, is so overtly psychedelic that it sounds like it could've been written and recorded by a computer program. (Astralwerks, www.astralwerks.com)
—Eric Snider

Jay-Z
Unplugged

Jiggaman takes his greatest hits to the live stage, eschewing the DJ to be backed by hip-hop's best live act, the Roots. Drummer ?uestlove adapted all of Jay-Z's songs for the 11-member ensemble, and Jigga delivers the lyrics better over real players than most MCs do in the studio. Mix in Jay-Z's humorous stage banter, guest shots by Mary J.Blige and the Neptunes' Pharrell, not to mention the funkiest version of Big Pimpin ever, and you've got a fun show, which translated perfectly to tape. (Roc-A-Fella)
—Dan Fenwick

Hope Sandoval & Warm Inventions
Bavarian Fruit Bread

There's something lazily erotic about Hope Sandoval's vocal delivery. It's as if she's lying next to you, whispering stories into your ear as you slip into some dream. The shame is that such a seductive voice goes to waste on consistently uneventful music. It hasn't always been so. She put it to perfect use on Mazzy Star's first album, She Hangs Brightly. Unfortunately the two following albums from that group and this new pairing with former My Bloody Valentine drummer Colm O'Closoig have all suffered from an overwhelming sense of boredom. Bavarian Fruit Bread presents no new ideas. At times it almost sounds as if it was a chore to make this music. Still, a sprinkling of tracks linger in the mind. Particularly Suzanne, Drop and Charlotte. They're sparse, ethereal and disorienting enough for a temporary diversion. The album is quite pleasant at times, but falls short as a whole. (Rough Trade)
—Ashley Spradlin

Mobb Deep
Infamy

There's a reason people feel Mobb Deep who don't dig other thug hip-hop: They always keep it raw. Their new banger is no exception. With production mostly by Mobb's Havoc and Dr. Dre/Roots co-producer Scott Storch, Infamy's beats are dark and sparse, leaving rapper Prodigy plenty of room to spit his murderous rhymes. Prodigy and Havoc show growth with the words as well, covering topics like family, romance and politics, along with their typical street bravado. It's tough to rap about C-Span and still sound bad-ass, but they pull it off. (Loud/Columbia)
—Dan Fenwick

This article appears in Jan 31 – Feb 6, 2002.