Janelle Monae – Metropolis: The Chase Suite CD / CD+LP (Bad Boy)


Janelle Monáe’s uniqueness was not apparent from the beginning, as heard on Big Boi’s second Got Purp compilation. The neo-electro remake of DeBarge’s “Time Will Reveal” and the Off the Wall-emulating pop-funk of “Lettin’ Go” were standouts — even amidst nuggets like Konkrete’s “Shit Ya Drawers,” believe it or not — but Monáe seemed destined to be one of those artists who appears on a glorified mixtape and either disappears or makes one under-promoted album prior to fleeing the industry. Even after spotlights on OutKast’s Idlewild, it could not have been known to many outside Monáe’s Atlanta circle that she was much more in line with Nona Hendryx and Afrofuturism than Ciara and 106 & Park. She probably has more time for Octavia Butler than Perez Hilton. Inspired by Fritz Lang’s 1927 science fiction classic, Metropolis, Suite 1: The Chase is the first of four planned releases designed as easily processible EPs detailing the life of a rebellious soul-equipped android who risks disassembly by falling in love with a human. Strip away the concept, the packaging, and the equally entertaining and deep lyrics dealing in class/race, slavery, isolation, and love — all of that material, as crucial as it is to the whole — and there remains a handful of magnetic songs transferred through theatrical soul, 21st century new wave, ice-coated opera, and brassy hip-hop funk. The disc’s center is made of “Violet Stars Happy Hunting!!!” and “Many Moons,” conjoined songs that trump anything on the André 3000 half of OutKast’s Speakerboxxx/The Love Below. “Sincerely, Jane” is dressed up in all the fantastical instrumentation of an otherworldly Broadway production but is as grounded in grim realism as Marvin Gaye’s “Inner City Blues” or 2Pac’s “Brenda’s Got a Baby,” and like those two songs, it is fueled by despair rather than self-righteousness. Monáe’s voice is knockout level throughout, likely versatile enough to handle any style with effortlessly expressive ease. [The “Special Edition,” released by Bad Boy nearly a year after the original independent version, adds two bonus tracks. “Mr. President,” a protest song, has a relaxed Hi Records throwback arrangement and a neo-Ernie Isley guitar flame-out; “Smile” is a skeletal, gently uplifting ballad.]

-allmusic.com

Pop Evil – Lipstick on the Mirror CD (Pazzo) - Hailing from Grand Rapids, MI!

August 12, 2008
Street date for Pop Evil’s Lipstick on the Mirror.
Goals from here forward are hourly, demanding and inspiring, guided by the memories of eight years of funky bars, sleeping in cars and miles of highway leading to another strange city.

They wouldn’t trade it for the world!
“We watch the bands opening for us,” states bassist Matt DiRito, “and we not only remember what it was like for us in that slot. We know that band is warming up the crowd for us and in turn, there will always be something for us to learn from them.”
Lead vocalist Leigh Kakaty carries a video recorder with him at all times as the ideas for melodies or lyrics happen constantly.
“There is no separation from my life and my music,” states Leigh. “Pop Evil is lifestyle; leading instead of following and having your opinions matter. It is about being heard when no one wants to listen to you. It is about trying to fit in when no one has room for you. It is about overcoming obstacle after obstacle and knowing how to reward yourself for the little things when there are no rewards from your peers. Pop Evil is about making the world BELIEVE.”
Time for you to believe.
Welcome to Pop Evil.

Nine Inch Nails – The Slip LP (Null) – Includes 24-page book!


Mercilessly tight and efficient where Year Zero was majestic and sprawling, The Slip is the most user-friendly Nine Inch Nails album ever. At only ten tracks, there is no fat on its bones. It does not offer a slow build, it leaps into action with the lacerating “1,000,000,” maintaining a blistering intensity for half the record before eventually winding its way to softer moments for the album’s conclusion. There is no learning curve to The Slip, it does not require effort to decode a narrative, it does not slowly unfold its own internal logic, it comes on with a tightly controlled force that’s present even in the quietest moments, as they pulsate with coiled tension. The Slip is so easy to digest because Trent Reznor is in consolidation mode, relying on his strengths instead of punishingly pushing himself forward. Such obsession with progress weighed down The Fragile and With Teeth, turning them into intricate puzzle boxes for devotees, but Reznor began to break free with the quite magnificent Year Zero, whose dense narrative likely alienated many fans. Here on The Slip, he retains the sense of urgency that flowed through Year Zero, but as it’s a lean album, it’s easier to appreciate his mastery of darkness and light or his ability to construct throbbing melodic hooks out of noise. Here, he’s no longer a stylized, self-conscious innovator, he’s a working musician enraptured by making music, and he’s so invigorated by creation it’s hard not to get sucked in as well.