An Acute Case: 23 June 2023

Just spray some water at the ocean if it's burning

Algiers: Shook
If you struggle to tell the ludes from the interludes on this three-parts-Atlantan-one-part-British-Malay quartet’s fourth album, figure it’s part of the design. Already stylistically evasive, here their response to the collected tragedies of modern racism goes even longer on texturalism and plurality. Moody colorations from multi-instrumentalist jazzers are lit up by the fiery polemics of rappers, poets and (ahoy there) rhythmanalysts, with further disturbances in the form of voice clips that catch the speakers in various phases of fury and forgiveness. Frontman Franklin James Fisher is too worldly to reduce the themes to a party line, but his unschooled gospel resonances and jittery hooks provide something to rally round. “Bite back the hand that feeds you when it’s poison” and “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me” are a good summation of the collective feeling. As proceedings get wayworn in the second half, the latter’s actually kind of reassuring. Then again, as it comes immediately before a song about Fisher's experience of being stopped by police as a young black man, it’s also kind of disturbing. A MINUS

Atmosphere: So Many Other Realities Exist Simultaneously
Forget the half-aborted narrative concept about the universe committing suicide, the unflagging ambition of 25-year vets Sean Daley (rapper) and Ant Davies (producer) reveals itself through the equitable give and take between emcee and beat-maker, deceptively simple instrumentals that lay trippy melodies over beats that click clack as much as they boom bap, songs that descend into drift, and drifts that ascend into songs. Over an hour and twenty songs, this gets progressively more introspective and less hooky, so it’s a good thing Daley’s lyrics are never less than captivating. Not only is he “still writin rhymes like somebody got the time for that”, those rhymes concern the psychological implications of having “crash landed where the woke intersect with the exhausted.” From the despair of “Just spray some water at the ocean if it's burning” to the pragmatism of “I don't believe the protagonist really wants to die / But I imagine they're probably in need of a nap and some pain relief” to the tainted romance of “In the event that this is truly the apocalypse / I don't wanna miss that midnight kiss”, every line is packed with vivid imagination, personal truth, and tragicomic wit. None of life’s difficulties get easier by the end, but he at least has the good grace to reprise an opening sentiment that’s probably more wish than certainty: “It’ll be okay.” A MINUS

Kaitlin Butts: What Else Can She Do
The guitar tone, twang, cheatin, pill poppin, and big dreams in small towns say country, but the aesthetic just as much alt-rock. Evidence includes the same Ledbelly cover as Kurt, some indie typography, and a surplus of slow builds and loud payoffs. ** (“it won't always be this way” “what else can she do” “in the pines”)

The National: The First Two Pages of Frankenstein
Created after Matt Berninger’s bandmates ended his near three-year writer’s block by coaxing him into the recording booth and telling him to just improvise something dammit, none of these eleven cuts are likely to zap you into another dimension but all are absolutely maven. Bryce Dessner’s subtle orchestrations go some way to filling the narrative lacunae in Berninger’s snapshot lyrics, most of which concern shaky relationships and the shakier fallout when they don’t go swimmingly. Which, in the mind of someone who understands human frailty this well, is often. Meanwhile, programmed drums provide the textural variety due from a band with the audacity to name one song “New Order T-Shirt”—at one point, they even sound like a slide projector flapping through the photos in Berninger's mind. Concluding this minor monument to song writing as salvation is his offer to return help received. Whether you're in a psychiatric greenhouse with slip-on shoes or at glass top table selling your ideas, send for him. Whenever, wherever, “I'll know what to do.” I don’t doubt it. A MINUS

Quinnie: Flounder
Sweet-voiced New Jersey strummer capable but not always inclined to go beyond whisper exhibits plenty of sexual candour. Best in show: "He's so pretty when he goes down on me.” Can’t believe no one’s thought of it before. * (“man” “touch tank” “flounder”)

Lil Yachty: Let's Start Here.
Promises something new under the sun. Is just another dark side of the moon. * (“the BLACK seminole.” “the ride-” “IVE OFFICIALLY LOST ViSiON!!!!”)

Jessie Ware: That! Feels Good!
This 38-year-old mother of three got over her career hump by diversifying into epicurean podcasts and was so successful she now treats music as just another asset in her portfolio. Here she hooks up with Madonna and Dua Lipa magician Stuart Price to create the groove album What’s Your Pleasure? was too solemn to be. While she isn’t a redoubtable personality, she’s not without spirit. Or, more importantly, immaculate timing. She doesn’t miss cue to preen or pout, fan herself or flaunt her, er, wares, and by such consummate means glides towards her dancefloor imperatives. Which she better, because disco is no use as a show home and this thing is almost dangerously well appointed. But with the help of some easy-reach innuendo and plenty of flex in her disco interpretations, she achieves the feat of being classy not lofty, cheekier than appearances suggest, and every bit as indulgent as the appetite that precedes her. A MINUS

Yo La Tengo: This Stupid World
After 30 years in the same line-up, they know how to do this thing inside out and back to front—so that’s how they play. Keeping the diffracted promise of titles like “Sinatra Drive Breakdown”, “Fallout”, “Until It Happens”, and “Brain Capers”, the scribbled guitars and scribblier lyrics are rich in minerality and beautiful in their own way, which is the only way they care to be. All told, too ambivalent to sustain interest. But their faith in ambivalence is so absolute that even when their final destination is “Miles Away”, it’s still a trip worth taking them. B PLUS